Page 35 of Masquerade Mistake

“Then I’m so tired I can barely move,” I laugh. “I should do a whole moisturizing regiment, but usually I just collapse in bed until my alarm goes off at six.”

“Holy hell, girl. How do you manage on so little sleep?”

“I’m used to it, and I usually fit in a nap in the afternoons. Naps are highly underrated.”

“I haven’t taken a nap since I was a kid,” he laughs. Then he scoots closer, resting his hand on my hip as our noses graze each other’s. He squeezes my hip, then pulls me even closer. “But if I were napping with you, I think I could do it every day.”

I swat at his hand, but don’t move when he kisses me. It’s soft and tender, and I know it’s a goodnight kiss. He doesn’t try anything else except to turn me so that I fit against him. I can feel the t-shirt riding up behind me and my skin touching his boxers. I can tell he’s still turned on, but he doesn’t do anything except pull me tighter against his chest.

“Goodnight, Claire,” he whispers.

“Goodnight, Ethan.”

I listen to him breathe, feeling lulled as it slows. Feeling safe, even though we barely know each other. Feeling like this is where I belong.

I’m the first one to wake, my eyes adjusting to the low light of morning sun streaming through the blinds, my dream running through the barrier between sleep and awake. I’d been dreaming of Finn’s father. It wasn’t the first time I’d dreamed of him, but it was the first that combined the boy I’d met years ago and the man that’s sleeping behind me now.

I’m surprised Ethan’s arms are still around me, mostly because I’m used to sleeping on my own. But Ethan serves as a cocoon, and I remain still as his heart beats against my back. I could stay this way forever, except my bladder says otherwise. I hold out as long as I can, but eventually have to maneuver out of his hold. He stirs as I do, then pulls me tighter as I try slip away.

“I have to pee,” I whisper, laughing. He groans but lets go.

I finish my business, and he’s still in bed when I slide back into the sheets. His eyes are closed, but he opens his arms and I fit within them, pressing my face against his chest. He smells like morning, like skin and soap and something earthy that’s both comforting and familiar. His hands drop to my waist, and then to my backside, and he inhales when his hand meets skin. He starts to pull away, but I put my hand on his, leading it back to my bare ass.

He opens his eyes, and I see the question forming in his expression.

Everything feels different this morning. Last night, I was resolved to proceed with caution and to put the brakes on if anything progressed to fast. But much of that slipped away after spending the whole night in his arms. Maybe it had to do with my dream, the way he coached me through our first time together—my first time ever—and the gentle way he touched me. Just recalling it, I can feel the yearning grow inside me, making it hard to breathe unless he’s breathing for me.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper.

“Are you saying…” He breaks off, and I nod. Then he leans in and kisses me. It’s soft and hesitant, and I can tell he’s holding back, that he’s treating me with care in case I change my mind. I’m not going to change my mind. As nervous as I am, as much as this feels like the first time all over again, the need inside me is greater. I press into him, wrapping a leg around him and pulling him closer. It’s all it takes. He flips me onto my back and claims my mouth, taking my air and giving me his. I arch my back as his hands grasp my hips, pulling me closer so that I’m flush against his solid erection. His skin is hot through my shirt, which he’s now tugging at.

“I want to feel you,” he says. It’s a statement, not a question, and I lift my arms up so he can pull the shirt over my head. For a moment I realize just how naked I am, even though I’m still wearing a thong. No one has ever seen me like this, not even Ethan of the past. I fight the urge to cover up, though one of my hands strays near my breast. He slips his hand into mine, pulling it back over my head as he looks down at me.

“Damn, Claire. You’re incredible.”

His words trigger something in me, especially when I see the hungry look in his eyes. It matches my own quiet anticipation, a feeling that’s growing by the second.

He lowers his head and grasps my nipple with his lips, his tongue lighting over the tip as I burn beneath him. My breath comes out in short spurts as he drags his mouth over my belly, trailing it across my hip as he pulls my thong slowly down my thighs and over my feet. I don’t have a chance to process this new level of nudity before I feel his hot air at my core, soon replaced by his mouth.

“Oh, God!” His warm tongue swirls over me with wet caresses, and I swear I’ll come undone if he stops. It takes everything in me to not buck against his mouth. He increases the pressure, his mouth now devouring me in ways that make me lightheaded and frantic. The warmth spreads from my core, sliding across my skin until my mind erupts and my whole body turns to flame. I cry out as the orgasm takes over, as he steadies his rhythm, as the tremors ripple over me in waves.

I can barely open my eyes as he slides off his boxers. I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper. Then I feel him pressing against my core. My eyes open wide as he presses in, pain blending with pleasure as he slowly enters me.

“Am I hurting you?” He remains still inside me as I get used to his presence. It’s tight, just like the first time. But there’s no tearing. No pain that’s too much. I want to feel so much more of him. I pull at his hips as I lift mine, the pain subsiding as my need grows.

“It feels good,” I whisper, moaning as he starts to move. He stays slow, his hands tangling in my hair as he kisses me, as my body remains pressed against his, as we move together like it’s a dance. The feel of his chest grazing against my bare breasts is more erotic than anything I’ve ever felt. The way his hand clutches my back as he moves against me, I want to feel him deeper. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it doesn’t matter. He guides me where I need to go, my skin tingling in the wake of his wandering hands.

This is nothing like our first time, and everything like it. There was only so much we could do in a cramped car, but the way he held me then is much like the way he’s holding me now—his hands grasping me with calm control while his touch remains tender and slow. Like he’s savoring this. Like he never wants it to end.

And yet, older Ethan has a sureness about him that young Ethan couldn’t know. He whispers soft words in my ear, telling me I’m beautiful and how good I feel, sometimes just saying my name. His kisses match the urgency I feel. He moves inside me like he’s known me forever. As the warm waves of my orgasm ride over me, I feel him swell while he groans against my neck. He thrusts harder as I cry out, then slows as the aftershocks make me tremble. When he’s spent, he lowers onto me and rolls us to the side, remaining connected as we recover in each other’s arms.

“Good morning,” he whispers after a while, and I grin at him. He pulls out but stays facing me, his hand smoothing the hair away from my face before he traces my cheekbone with his finger.

“Good morning,” I say. “That was incredible.” I feel silly as soon as I say it, not sure if you’re supposed to comment on sex or not. But he grins before nodding.

“That was everything I expected it would be, and more.” He flips the covers over, and I get an eyeful of his length. He’s still hard, and he grins down at himself, then back at me as he gets up.

“Potty break,” he says. “But stay where you are. We’re not done.”