My Hottie Neighbor

Chapter 10

Nathalie's body felt utterly exhausted, teetering on the edge of tears, yet Ethan wasn't finished with her. The tentative movements and cautious glances that marked their first few nights had vanished. It was the final night of their week together, and both were acutely aware of it. Despite the emotional and physical strain, so intense she felt sure she must be bruised, her longing for him was stronger than ever.

Ethan guided her to her knees at the edge of the bed, positioning her exactly as he wanted. With her head buried in the blankets and her legs spread wide, he caressed her, lightly slapping before delivering a sharp smack that made her gasp with a mix of pain and desire.

Throughout the week, Ethan had been building to this moment. Each new experience, each small increase in intensity was met with careful attention to her responses, ensuring she enjoyed every minute. On this last day, he seemed sure of what she wanted, understanding how pain intertwined with her desire. He'd already made love to her twice that night, with a fervor unmatched by prior encounters. Though her body longed to collapse, Ethan had other plans.

She groaned as he struck her again, alternating between gentle rubs and sharp slaps, sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through her. When her moans turned to softer cries, he moved behind her, the familiar sound of foil ripping signaling another condom.

He thrust into her with force, allowing no time for her to adjust. His grip on her hips asserted control over their rhythm, over everything, yet she lacked the energy to resist even if she'd wanted to. She simply moaned as he took her for the third time, smiling internally when he reached his climax, breathing her name.

As he withdrew, Nathalie rolled to her side, panting. Despite the lingering desire to continue until morning, her body demanded rest. Her jaw ached, and her body begged for reprieve. Her legs trembled, unable to support her any longer.

Ethan collapsed beside her, pulling her close and gently rubbing her back in slow, languid strokes. He was finally done. She felt his nose burrowing into her hair, inhaling her scent as she did the same with his. His smell—intoxicating, a mix of heavy cologne and his own unique essence—was something she wanted to remember. She cherished his coffee-flavored kisses in the morning and the impromptu moments when he'd pull her in for a kiss or playful squeeze. The memory of his deep green eyes, darker than grass and sparkling like emeralds, would stay with her.

"I'm going to miss you," he whispered into her ear, his voice laced with an emotion Nathalie struggled to identify—perhaps regret?

"Me too," she replied, planting a weary kiss on his chest, too drained to reach his lips. She wanted to savor their final moments together, but exhaustion weighed heavily on her, making even speaking a challenge.

It had been an unusual week for Nathalie. She spent a lot of time with Ethan at his parents' apartment, helping to pack up their belongings. Whenever someone visited to pick up furniture, Ethan ensured Nathalie stayed out of sight, almost as if he wanted to keep her a secret, though she surprisingly didn't mind. It was on the third night that they finally discussed the nature of their relationship. Nathalie had been probing for details about Ethan's life, but he consistently held back.

"I have a daughter," he reminded her, his brows knitting together. "This week, I'm distracting myself from my life. While you are a wonderful distraction, we both know this is purely physical, right?"

"Right," Nathalie agreed promptly. "I'm starting fresh, focusing on a new job and managing bills." Quietly, she acknowledged an ex-boyfriend she needed to move on from. "We have no future."

"Exactly," Ethan had agreed with a nod. "Seventeen years is a significant gap, Nathalie. I'm not searching for a stepmother for my daughter, and I can't afford distractions from raising her and maintaining my job to keep a roof over her head—not even for something that's just s*x, no matter how amazing it is."

Nathalie remembered biting her lip at his words, unaware that those initial days were just the beginning of what awaited. Ethan made her feel so secure that she could completely relax in his presence, allowing them to explore together freely. They experimented with different positions and levels of intensity, discovering what excited her the most, whether with his fingers, his mouth, or a tantalizing combination of both.

They had an agreement. Ethan had a life to return to once the apartment was empty and ready for new occupants, and Nathalie had a new chapter to begin, including her first steady job as a teacher with her own class. Their connection was about s*x and companionship. Ethan needed assistance in clearing out his parents' apartment and wanted a distraction from his father's loss. Nathalie could use any furniture he didn't need and appreciated the company during her first week in a new town where she knew no one. Moreover, they both craved the physical connection, as Ethan had correctly pointed out, it was incredibly fulfilling.

Despite their arrangement, Nathalie's curiosity about him persisted. She yearned to know more, yet understood his reluctance. He wanted to remain unattached, captivated by the excitement of their relationship. In knowing someone more deeply, you risk either growing attached or encountering something off-putting. By maintaining a light conversation and keeping physical intimacy at the forefront, they circumvented such risks.

"Hey, are you crying?" Ethan moved to glimpse her face, cursing softly as he noticed her tears. "Did I hurt you?" His eyes searched hers with concern. "I shouldn't have gotten carried away. I thought you liked it." His confidence faltered, replaced by guilt.

"I did," Nathalie reassured him, wiping her tears away with a smile. "I'm just exhausted. You wore me out, Ethan."

Ethan gave a faint smile. "Well, I'm feeling a bit drained myself, Nathalie."

"I don't like it when you call me that," Nathalie admitted, realizing it didn't truly matter since they both understood that they'd part ways tomorrow morning.

"Then what do you want me to call you?" he asked. "Sweetie-pie? Pumpkin? Sugar?"

"Don't be silly. Just call me Nathalie." He was one of the few people who always used her full name, and she liked it. It made her feel like a woman rather than the lost girl she often felt she was.

"Okay, sweet Nathalie," he agreed. "I will remember you like this forever. Curled up against me, naked, asking me to call you Nathalie. And trust me, I will never forget this week."

Part of Nathalie wanted to ask him to continue seeing each other after tonight, forget their agreement, and keep meeting. She didn't even need his last name. They could make a pact to meet up every Saturday night or something.