Reborn to Replace My Cheating Husband

13

Ethan’s thumb traced the curve of her jaw, featherlight, as if she might shatter under too much pressure. Something shifted in his expression, the hunger still there, banked now, controlled.

“You’re not going to forget again,” he said.

Diana’s breath caught somewhere high in her chest. Her fingers still rested against his stubbled cheeks, and she could feel the muscle ticking in his jaw beneath her palms. The kitchen light hummed overhead, a soft fluorescent buzz that suddenly seemed deafening in the silence stretching between them.

Ethan stepped back. Just half a step. Just enough for his hands to find the hem of her dress.

He didn’t pull it up. Not yet. His knuckles brushed her thighs, back and forth, back and forth, a rhythm so hypnotic Diana found herself swaying toward him without meaning to.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured.

The words landed low in her belly.

“You,” she said. The syllable cracked on its way out. “I want you.”

Ethan’s eyes darkened. His hands stilled against her thighs. Then he was moving again, but slower now, achingly slow pushing the fabric of her dress upward inch by torturous inch. Diana lifted her hips without being asked, and the sound of cotton sliding over skin filled the kitchen. Ethan pulled the dress over her head and let it fall somewhere behind him, a soft crumple of fabric on tile.

Cool air hit her bare shoulders. Her bra followed next, his fingers working the clasp with a patience that made her want to scream.

“You’re shaking,” he observed quietly.

Diana’s laugh came out strangled. Ethan smiled, a private, devastating curve of lips before he leaned in and kissed the hollow of her throat. Her head tipped back against the cabinet. His mouth traced downward, over her collarbone, between her breasts, lower still until his tongue found the edge of her n****e.

She arched into him instantly.

His name left her lips like a prayer.

Ethan took his time there. His tongue circled once, twice, then his lips closed around her and pulled, and Diana’s hands flew to the back of his head to hold him in place. The suction sent a direct line of heat straight between her legs. She was already slick, already aching, and he hadn’t even touched her there again yet.

“Ethan, please.”

He released her with a soft pop and looked up. The sight of him, lips parted, eyes glazed, kneeling between her thighs on her kitchen counter, nearly undid her right there.

“Please what?”

The bastard wanted her to say it.

Diana’s cheeks flushed hot, but she didn’t look away. “Please f**k me.”

Something in Ethan’s control fractured. He rose in one fluid motion, his mouth crashing against hers while his hands worked his belt. Leather hissed through loops. The clink of the buckle hitting the floor was the loudest sound Diana had ever heard. She reached for him, his shirt, his shoulders, anything she could touch and helped drag the fabric over his head.

Bare skin met bare skin.

Diana gasped at the contact. His chest was warm and solid against hers, dusted with dark hair that scraped her n*****s in the most perfect way. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, grinding against the hard ridge straining behind his boxers.

Ethan groaned into her mouth. “You’re going to kill me.”

“At least you’ll die happy.”

His laugh vibrated against her throat. Then his hand slipped between them. Diana’s hips bucked when his fingers found her center, still wet, still desperate from his mouth earlier.

He stroked her once and she whimpered.

“Look at me,” Ethan commanded softly.

She did.

His gaze held hers captive while his fingers circled her c**t, featherlight, never quite giving her enough pressure. Diana’s thighs trembled around his hips. Her nails dug into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

“I want to watch you,” he said. “Every second. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t look away. I want to see what I do to you.”

Diana couldn’t have looked away if she tried.

Ethan hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down her legs, letting them fall to the floor with everything else. Then his boxers followed, and he was stepping between her thighs again, naked and unashamed and so hard Diana’s mouth went dry.

He paused.

“You’re sure?”

The question was soft. Real. A crack in the dominant facade that revealed the man underneath, the one who’d kissed her forehead and called her beautiful and meant it.

Diana cupped his face in both hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Ethan kissed her once, tenderly, before positioning himself at her entrance.

The first inch stole her breath.

He pushed in slowly and Diana felt every ridge, every vein, every pulse of heat as he stretched her open. Her head fell back against the cabinet with a soft thunk. Ethan’s hands gripped her hips, steadying her, grounding her, even as his own breath came in ragged gasps.

“Good girlll.”

“Keep going,” she begged. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

Ethan sank into her inch by devastating inch until he was buried to the hilt, their bodies flush together, his forehead pressed to hers. Diana could feel him throbbing inside her, could feel every tiny shift of his hips as he gave her time to adjust. The fullness was overwhelming. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

He kissed them away before they could fall.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“More than okay.” She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist. “Move. Move, Ethan.”

He did.

The first thrust punched a broken moan from somewhere deep in her chest. Ethan pulled out and pushed back in, faster this time, finding a rhythm that made the counter creak beneath them. The kitchen filled with wet, obscene sounds, skin against skin, her gasps and his groans, the distant rattle of something falling off the counter that neither of them bothered to catch.

Diana grabbed the edge of the counter for leverage. Ethan grabbed her hips for the same reason.

He drove into her relentlessly, each stroke hitting a spot that made lights dance behind her eyes. The pleasure built fast and sharp, coiling at the base of her spine. Diana’s moans turned into something closer to sobs.

“Right there,” she choked out. “Oh God, right f*****g there.”

Ethan obeyed. He angled his hips and thrust harder, deeper, until Diana was clawing at his back and chanting his name like it was the only word she remembered.

The pressure inside her crested.

“Ethan…”

“I’ve got you.” His voice was wrecked, barely recognizable. “Let go, Diana. I’ve got you.”

She shattered.

The orgasm ripped through her in waves, leaving her blind and gasping and clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in existence. Ethan rode her through it, his thrusts never faltering, never slowing, drawing out every last tremor until Diana collapsed against his chest.

He wasn’t finished.

Diana felt him pull out and lift her off the counter, and then she was being turned around, bent forward, her palms slapping against the cool granite. Ethan’s chest pressed against her back, his breath hot against her ear.

“Again,” he growled.

She was still throbbing, still sensitive, still barely coherent—but the sound of his voice sent a fresh wave of need crashing through her.

“Yes,” Diana gasped. “Yes, don’t stop.”

Ethan entered her from behind in one smooth thrust. This angle was deeper somehow, more intense, and Diana’s knees nearly buckled at the sensation. He wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady, his other hand tangling in her hair and tugging gently until her back arched.

“Look at you,” he murmured against her shoulder. “Taking me so well. Made for this.”

The dirty praise sent electricity down her spine.

His rhythm changed, slower now, grinding rather than thrusting, each circular motion pressing against a spot that made her vision blur. Diana’s moans turned guttural. Her fingers scrabbled against the counter, searching for purchase, finding none.

“You feel that?” Ethan breathed. “You feel what you do to me?”

She could feel it. She could feel him swelling inside her, feel the way his rhythm stuttered, feel the sweat-slick glide of his chest against her back as his control began to slip.

“Inside me,” Diana heard herself say. “Please. I want to feel you.”

Ethan’s groan was animal.

His hips snapped forward once, twice, three more times and then he was burying his face in her neck, his whole body tensing as he spilled into her with a broken cry of her name. The hot pulse of his release triggered something primal in Diana’s core, and suddenly she was coming again too, clenching around him, milking every last drop.

Ethan’s weight pressed her into the counter, warm and solid and still trembling. Diana could feel his heart pounding against her spine, could feel their combined slickness dripping down her thighs.