Eyes Wide Open: The Blackstone Affair, Book 3
Eyes Wide Open: Chapter 1

Ethan’s eyes held on to me as he mastered my body, his grip firm on my hips, his thick flesh filling me up and moving inside me, his mouth all over me, his teeth on my skin.

All of this from the man who had broken though the walls I’d built and captured me. They were demonstrations of touch and pleasure, a means of cementing the connection between us, of keeping me close to him. It was his way. He didn’t need to worry, though.

Ethan had me.

Despite the whole mess tonight, he had me in his arms and underneath him, his commanding strength taking charge in the way it’d been from the beginning. Holding me safe. That night on the street when he’d coaxed me into his car and the later phone calls demanding I acknowledge him were just the start of my understanding of Ethan Blackstone. There was so much more to the man than I ever imagined back then.

I wasn’t going anywhere. I was in love with him.

“I want my cock in you all night long,” he rasped, his blue eyes flashing against the moonlight as he moved. Looming over me, he plied my body in every which way as the light shone on our naked flesh through the balcony window. Hands, mouth, cock, tongue, teeth, fingers—he used them all.

Ethan said things to me like that during sex. Shocking stuff that made me hotter than hell, nourishing my confidence, and showing me how much he wanted me. It was precisely what I needed. Ethan was my answer, and he knew exactly what I craved. I don’t know how he understood me so well, but he did without a doubt. Tonight had confirmed that message loud and clear. I guess I could finally admit that I was in need of another person in order to be happy.

That other person was Ethan.

I’d let someone in. The hard shell around my heart had been compromised, and very thoroughly too. Ethan had done it. He’d worked on me, and pushed me and demanded my attention. He never gave up on me and loved me in spite of my cavern of emotional issues. Ethan did all that for me. And now I could revel in the fact that I was loved by a man whom I loved in return.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he commanded on a harsh breath. “You know I have to have your eyes when I take you!” His hand had moved up to grip my hair and he tugged. He never hurt me when he pulled it, though. Ethan knew just how much pressure to exert and was fully aware it sent me over the edge. I did know about his need for my eyes being on him and I held onto his fiery blues with everything I had.

But Ethan knew more about me than I knew about him.

“You’re going to come first!” he gritted out, thrusting deep and hard, replaceing the sensitive spot within me needed to accomplish his directive.

As I felt the pressure build I let myself go to that perfect place of ecstasy, pinned beneath Ethan’s body, which was burrowed in mine, his blue eyes just inches above me. He took my mouth as the orgasm ripped into me, filling another part of me, making me accept more of him, binding us together more deeply.

His orgasm followed mine within seconds. I could always tell he was close from how he tightened to inhuman hardness right as he was about to come. The feeling was out of this world and intensely empowering. That I could pull such a reaction from him and elicit such feeling in another person did something to me. Something that healed me a little bit each time it happened—I kept getting better inside my head because of Ethan and the ways he showed his love for me. I had some hope about myself that I could be happy and live a normal life.

Ethan had given me that.

“Tell me, baby,” he exhaled in a harsh whisper, but I could hear the vulnerability that accompanied the boldness. Ethan wasn’t without his own insecurities, he was just a mortal like the rest of us.

“Always yours!” I truly meant my words as I felt him let go inside me.

When I opened my eyes sometime later, I realized I must have dozed a bit. Ethan had rearranged us halfway on our sides, but we were still joined together. He liked to stay buried inside me for a while afterward. I didn’t mind, because it was something he desired and I loved making him happy.

I just wish he’d tell me more about his dark place. He was afraid to share, and while it bothered me, I mostly understood his fear. I often wondered if his reasons for needing to touch me all the time and possess me so thoroughly during sex, and afterward too, had something to do with his time as a prisoner. They tortured him and scarred him and hurt him. It pained me just remembering how he’d been that night when his dreams woke him up in a panic.

I trailed my fingers over his shoulder and back. I imagined the angel wings of his tattoo and the words below them. And I felt the scars too. Ethan flicked his eyes open and pegged me hard. “Why wings? They’re beautiful, you know.”

“The wings reminded me of my mum,” he said after a moment or two of silence, “and they covered over many of the scars.”

I leaned forward, kissing his lips with a soft touch. I cupped his jaw and decided to take the plunge. I didn’t want to scare Ethan away from talking to me if he was in a mood, but figured I had to try again at some point. “And the quote? Why that one?”

He shrugged and whispered, “I think I died a little tonight.”

So much for him opening up and sharing. He wasn’t up for any more delving into his past. I could tell. “What do you mean you died a little?”

“When I couldn’t replace you after that message came in on your mobile.” He traced my cheek and then my lips with his finger—just the lightest touch, and I felt a shiver roll through me.

“Well, you did replace me eventually, and no dying allowed, mister. That would be a real major buzzkill.” I tried to tease him into a lighter mood, but it didn’t seem to be working. When Ethan was in a serious frame of mind, he didn’t just switch out of it easily.

“I’m glad you feel better,” he paused and thrust his hips with a renewed erection, sinking in deep, “because I needed this with you, badly.”

“I’m here and you have me,” I murmured against his lips as he draped my legs over his shoulders and took charge of another round of pleasure. Once was rarely enough for him.

Ethan made me feel desirable. He made me feel beautiful and sexy, from the words that came out of his mouth to the touch of his body in mine when he made love to me. And afterward, when he held me against him like I was precious.

Somebody wanted me, despite all that had gone down in my past. Someone was willing to fight for me. I was important to another person. To Ethan I was. The power in that knowledge was life-changing.

Ethan’s particular brand of attention was intense and a lot to accept at first, but it worked for me. Ethan worked for me. He could show me how much he wanted me, and for the first time I had some hope that we could really make this relationship work. The “let’s go slow” part hadn’t happened at all like we’d agreed when we first met. But if we had gone slowly, I very much doubt I’d be naked in bed with him at the Somerset coast, in an English manor fit for a king, which happened to be owned by his sister, and being fucked to the brink of another magnificent orgasm right now. A girl has to take things as they come.

It took a bit for me to rouse myself after the second round of sheet-clawing sex, but I managed to wriggle out of his hold to head for the bathroom so I could clean up and prepare for sleep. I loved how he touched me all the time. I needed it, plain and simple, and Ethan knew that. It was just another way in which we were emotionally compatible.

I filled a glass of water and took the pill Dr. Roswell had prescribed for my night terrors. I had a routine. Birth control and vitamins in the morning, sleeping pill at night, once I was ready to actually sleep. I smirked into the elegant bathroom mirror that looked like something out of Buckingham Palace, realizing that bed and sleep were never synonymous when sharing with Ethan. We spent a great deal of time together in bed not sleeping, but I wasn’t complaining.

I didn’t expect to replace him awake when I came out of the bathroom, but his eyes were open, tracking my every movement as I settled back into bed. He reached for me and held my face, something he did often when we were close like this.

“How come you’re still awake? You must be exhausted after that long drive,” I paused for emphasis, “and all that superb shagging—”

“I love you and I never want to let you go,” he interrupted.

“So don’t.” I looked into his blue eyes, which seared me in the dim light.

“I never will.” He said it with some hardness and I felt that he really meant it.

“I love you too, and I’m not going anywhere.” I leaned in to kiss his lips, the rasp of his beard stubble well familiar to me now. He kissed me back, but I could tell he had more to say and could feel the edge in him, which was surprising considering the orgasms he’d just pounded into me.

“The thing is I—I need something more permanent with us. I need you with me all the time so I can protect you and we can be together every day . . . and night.”

I felt my heart begin to thud rapidly, whispers of panic taking hold. Just when I got comfortable with one aspect of us, Ethan pushed for more.

He’s always been that way . . .

“But we are together every day now,” I told him.

He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes a fraction. “It’s not enough, Brynne. Not after what happened tonight and that fucked-up message from God knows whom. I have Neil working on your mobile trace right now and we’ll get to the bottom of it, but I need something more formal that tells the world you are off limits and untouchable by whatever designs they might have on you.”

I swallowed hard, feeling his thumbs start to move over my jaw as I tried to imagine where he was going with this. “What do you mean when you say ‘formal’? How formal are we talking?” Man, my voice was thready, and my heart felt like it would leap out of my chest the next moment.

He smiled at me and leaned in for a soft, slow kiss that calmed me some. Ethan had always calmed me, though. If I was unsettled or scared, he had a way of comforting me and easing the stress of the moment. “Ethan?” I asked when he finally pulled back.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said soothingly, “everything will be all right and I’ll take care of you, but I know what we need to do—what needs to happen.”

“You do?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He rolled us over and held my face again, propped on his elbows and trapping me beneath his sculpted limbs, hard and smooth against my softer parts. “I’m sure of it, in fact.” His lips dropped to my neck and kissed up to my ear and then down my jaw, over my throat, and back to the other ear. “Very, very sure,” he whispered between gentle kisses. “I realized it tonight as soon as we got here and I saw that you were wearing this.” He kissed the spot where the amethyst pendant he’d given me lay in the hollow of my throat.

“What are you so sure about?” My voice was faint, but every word rang out clear as a bell in the short distance between us, as if I’d shouted my question.

“Do you trust me, Brynne?”

“Yes.”

“And you love me?”

“Yes, of course. You know that I do.”

He smiled down at me again. “Then it’s settled.”

“What is settled?” I implored against his gorgeous face, which had mesmerized me from the first, one side of his beautiful mouth turned up confidently, holding me firmly beneath him in a possessive hold so typical of my Ethan.

“We’ll get married.”

I stared at him, sure the words that just came out of his mouth were out of a scene from a romance novel. Maybe I was having a dream. I hoped.

Ethan shifted on top of me and shot that idea to hell. Holy fucking shit!

“It makes perfect sense,” he said with a slow grin, “we make an announcement that goes out big, have you move in with me officially, and let everyone know your fiancé is in the security business—”

“Are you insane?” I cut him off and saw his eyes moving over my face, studying my reaction to his words. “Ethan, I can’t get married. I don’t want to. I’m just getting used to being in a relationship. It’s way, way too soon to even consider something like that for us . . .”

He grinned down at me, utterly calm and confident. “I know, baby. It is far too soon, but the world doesn’t have to know that. To them it looks like you’re about to be the wife of the former-SF, high-profile CEO of Blackstone Inc. To whoever is out there with an agenda, they get a message loud and clear. That they need to keep the hell away from you; that they won’t be able to touch you in any way, shape or form, and that they won’t get close enough to even blink at you, let alone deliver threats like that fucked-up shit from last night.” He kissed me softly, looking very proud of himself. “It’s a brilliant plan.”

I just kept staring at him, sure he was a figment of some fantastical dream I was having. “It’s also dishonest, Ethan. Have you even considered what you are asking me to do? To lie? To mislead our families and friends into believing some fiction that we met two months ago and now we’re getting married?”

He stiffened above me, and his jaw got that stubborn set to it. “When it comes to protecting you, I’ll do whatever I need to do. I’m not taking the risk with you—it’s too late for that. I told you I was all in, and that’s not changed in the last hours.”

His glaring expression was more than a little intimidating, even in the dim light. I tried to explain myself. “Well, no, my feelings haven’t changed either, but that doesn’t mean we can . . .”

My words trailed off as I tried to process what he’d just so confidently declared—that getting married would be a good idea—just like eating more vegetables or wearing sunscreen was a good idea. I had to wonder if the stomach bug that had got to me tonight was making me hallucinate.

“There’s no reason we can’t.” Ethan looked a little wounded as he studied me carefully, and it gave me a pang of regret, but only for about two seconds. What he was proposing was absolutely insane. I could barely wrap my head around being in love with a man who’d stormed his way into my life, audaciously and without apology, a mere two months ago. How in the hell could I agree to a marriage based on my protection from some mysterious threat of unknown motivations by unnamed people?

“I—I’m—you’re absolutely out-of-your-mind crazy right now! Ethan, do you realize what you are proposing here?”

He nodded at me, his face just inches from mine. I couldn’t really tell what he was thinking right now either. He wanted his way, I could guess, but his motives were what surprised me more. I knew he loved me. He made sure to tell me often. And I know my feelings for him were the same . . . but . . . marriage?! I was sure he couldn’t have suggested anything more of a shock to my fragile emotional grid than this. Surely Ethan didn’t want a wife. This was way too soon.

“Yes, Brynne, I very much know what I just said to you.” He kept his face neutral but firm, giving away nothing.

“You want to marry me, a woman you just met eight weeks ago, who has relationship phobias and—and a fucked-up past—”

He shut me up with a dominating kiss, the kind that left no doubts about the seriousness of his proposal. God! Am I in Bizarro World here? I let his mouth plunder mine for a moment, then brought my hand up to the back of his head. I tugged him back and cupped his cheek, seeking his eyes again.

“Baby . . . that thing tonight spooked me,” he whispered. “I didn’t plan this out; I just know what feels right. I want you with me. You won’t need a work visa any more. You can live here and work in London somewhere in your field. You’ll have time to replace the perfect job without pressure to wrangle the immigration laws, and most important, we can be together. It’s what I want. I can shield you as your husband. I can make sure you’re always protected. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. I love you. You love me, yeah? What’s the problem? It’s the perfect solution.” He tilted his head at me and squinted his eyes like I was being illogically stupid.

“I’m not anywhere close to being ready for that, Ethan, despite how I feel about you.”

“I’m not either, and the timing is horrible, but I think it’s our only good option.” He softly brushed my hair back from my face with a gentle touch. “I’m willing . . . and I think you should at least consider it.” He gave me the eyebrow look. “I’m not enduring another episode like we had tonight at the National.”

I started to protest but he shushed me with another demanding kiss that was so very typical of him. He held me beneath him, pressing me into the soft mattress and stroking into my mouth with a skilled tongue. I let him kiss me and just floated along for a bit, trying my best to process what he’d shared.

“Before you get all feisty and worried, I want you to just think about it for now. We could have a long engagement, but the announcement is what will make people sit up and take notice. We had a tough night and there’s a ton of shit to be sorted, but in the end, we’re together and that won’t be changing.” He kissed me on the forehead. “And you’re moving in with me.”

I just stared at him and took in his words.

“That last part is not a request, Brynne. What went down tonight was utter madness and we cannot be living in two places.”

“God, what am I going to do with you?” I stifled a yawn and realized the pill was making me sleepy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to continue this conversation much longer. The idea flashed through my mind that he might have used that fact to his advantage. Ethan wasn’t good at poker for nothing.

“You’re exhausted, and quite frankly I am too.”

I yawned again and agreed with him. “I am . . . but I still don’t know what to even say about what you’re suggesting,” I told him, speaking into his eyes, which were just inches from mine.

He snuggled me against his body in preparation for sleep and buried his face in my neck. “You’re going to go to sleep right now, and think about it . . . and trust me . . . and move in with me officially.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

“Yeah, just like that.” His lips moved against the back of my neck. “It’s simply the way things have to be.” I felt his stubble graze my skin as he pressed close. “I love you, baby. Now go to sleep.”

Ethan’s strong arms folded around me did feel magnificent, despite the fact that I thought he was out of his ever-loving mind. But knowing that he would do something so drastic for me just to keep me protected, that he loved me that much, made the small smile on my face feel quite fucking fabulous, to quote my soldier-mouthed lover.

I did sleep then, safe in his arms.