Page 81 of The Love We Make

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Page 81 of The Love We Make

We both moaned in pleasure, in relief.

It was like we had been waiting forever for the very moment we could touch each other once again. And when we did, we felt the relief flooding through our veins. Like that first massage on a sore muscle. Or that first sip of coffee in the morning.

The kind of relief that only made you want more.

Ethan slipped a finger inside of me and caused me to shutter. I knew all I had to do was say stop, and he would, but that isn’t what I wanted. I wanted him to take me all the way, as far as he could. I rationalized that I was still holding true to my condition because I was never actually seeing him. I had yet to look at his face.

“Fuck, Maddy, fuck!” Ethan whisper-yelled, pain flooding his tone. “Keep your hands on the counter.”

I could hear him undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans. I knew what was coming. Despite the fact that this was, on some level, wrong. That it could lead to more drama. More trouble with our friendship. And despite the fact that I was here with another man, I wanted what was coming. I wanted it more than I wanted my next breath.

“Please,” I begged, knowing he loved it.

He withdrew his finger and slid my panties further to the side. It didn’t take him any time to push himself inside of me. Tears pricked at my eyes.Relief. He breathed a sigh, contentment laced with pleasure. Then he took hold of my hips and started pumping in and out of me.

His hands slid up my body and cupped my breasts over the dress I was wearing. Then he took one hand to my neck, pulling me back toward him. His lips sucked on my neck and he bit his way down my shoulder.

Never losing his rhythm.

Never losing his focus.

It wasn’t long before I could no longer stand, no longer stay in a position that allowed him access to my neck. I kept hold of the counter but bent at the waist more, causing him to hit somewhere deep inside of me. That was all it took for me to combust.

My orgasm made me loud enough that anyone standing outside the door would know what was going on. I couldn’t find it in me to care.

Ethan didn’t stop. He didn’t come with me. He kept going, harder. He took a hand to my sensitive clit and rubbed, causing me to reignite.

“When you head back out on yourdate,” he said with disdain, “you’re not gonna be able to think of anything else but this. You’re not gonna be able to get wet for anyone else but me. You’re not even going to be able to fucking dance because your legs are going to be so fucking weak.”

I believed him. I knew after this, I didn’t even want to see Ty, much less talk to him or dance with him. Ethan was ruining me.

Again.

But I didn’t care. I knew I would probably regret this later, but it was too late to stop now and I wanted more.

I stood back upright the best I could and Ethan grabbed hold of my neck once again, his tongue finding my ear. Another wave of pleasure threatened to detonate from within my stomach and down to my core.

“Come, baby,” he whispered, somehow sounding like my best friend despite his words. Caring and sweet. Loving. “I’m gonna come with you this time.”

Knowing he was ready, that he was on edge was the push I needed and I came again. This time I saw stars sparkling in the darkness. I wasn’t as loud but the magnitude of the orgasm was stronger. It didn’t just hit my body, it hit my heart.

Ethan kept his word and came with me. His motions getting jerky and his moaning getting louder. When he was finally spent, he stayed inside of me for just a minute more before gently pulling out of me.

My panties snapped back into place and caught the cum that had begun sliding out of me. Both of us mixed together.

My hands were still on the counter and I was trying to get my breathing under control. I could hear Ethan zipping himself back up behind me.

His lips landed on the back of my head when he was done, kissing my hair. The sudden urge to cry again came over me. I felt satisfied and lonely at the same time. I felt good, but at the same time, I wanted more.

Not just sex.

I wanted him. My best friend.

“I love you,” he whispered, before backing away.

He loved me,just not the right kind of love, I repeated to myself. I knew that. Nothing had changed. But instead of making me smile, his words sliced me. Hurt me.

I was suddenly thankful for the darkness, that he couldn’t see my face. I tear ran down my cheek but I left it there, knowing the movement to wipe it away would give me away.




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