Chapter 2 One Night Stand

Amanda's POV

"Holy fucking shit, haul your ass in here!" Ethan yanked me into the suite, gripping my wrist so tight I'd probably have a mark tomorrow. Door clicked shut, and I slammed him against it, crashing my mouth into his, no messing around. He let out this deep, sexy groan that sent a shiver tearing down my spine.

"Someone's wound up tight," I teased, biting his lip between wet, sloppy kisses. He didn't say jack—just grabbed me, lifted me up quick, my legs locking around his waist. He stomped over to the bed, tossing me down so hard the mattress bounced under me.

"You've been killing me all night, Amanda," he rasped, voice all rough and torn up. "That dress? Fucking illegal—too damn hot for its own good." His hands slid over the silk, rough, hungry, making me shake all over.

I flipped us fast, shoving him flat on his back with a smirk. "Oh yeah, big guy? What you gonna do about it?" I ripped his tie off, chucked it across the room somewhere. Ethan's eyes went dark, total lust, staring at me while his hands slid up my thighs, digging in hard.

Our bodies just clicked, moving together smooth. Every touch burned me up, every kiss had me itching for more. "Jesus Christ, you're so fucking gorgeous," he panted, sitting up to kiss me again. It was hot, messy, demanding, spinning my head quick. I ground my hips against him, slow, dirty, and he sucked in a sharp breath, hands twitching on me.

His fingers grabbed my hair, pulling just enough to sting as he flipped me onto my back, pinning me down. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled against my neck, kissing hard, leaving wet spots that had me arching up into him. He yanked the dress down, went straight for my tits—sucked my nipples, flicked his tongue over them until I was gasping, scratching at his shoulders.

I felt his cock through his pants, hard, pressing into me. Slid my hand down, rubbed him through the fabric, feeling him throb. "Ethan, fuck," I whispered, voice all wrecked. "I need you bad, right now."

He groaned loud, hands shoving my dress up over my hips in one fast tug. "Goddamn, you're wet as hell," he muttered, fingers sliding over my pussy, finding my clit, rubbing slow circles that made me yell out, hips jerking up into his hand. "Yeah, you want it, don't you? Soaked for me."

I couldn't even talk, just moaned loud as he yanked off his pants and boxers, cock popping out, thick, ready. I grabbed it, lined him up. "Now, Ethan—fucking now," I begged, shaking with how bad I needed him inside.

He slammed into me, one hard thrust, both of us shouting. His cock filled me up good, hitting deep, pleasure crashing through me. "Holy shit, you're tight," he groaned, starting to move—deep, rough thrusts that rattled the bed.

We fucked hard, room full of wet slaps, moans, curses. Ethan's hands were all over—grabbing my ass, squeezing my tits, pulling me closer to pound me deeper. "You're fucking unreal," he panted, leaning down to suck my clit again while still thrusting, tongue teasing me until I was screaming, right on the edge.

Then he switched it up—pulled out, flipped me onto my stomach. "Ass up, baby," he said, voice rough as hell. I got on my knees fast, shoving my hips back, and he slid in deep from behind, hitting spots that made me see stars. His hand smacked my ass, sting mixing with the pleasure as he fucked me hard, growling, "You take it so damn good."

I pushed back into him, matching every thrust, sweat dripping off us. "Harder, you prick," I gasped, and he went for it—grabbed my hips, slammed into me fast, balls slapping against me. He reached around, fingers on my clit, rubbing quick, sloppy, until I was moaning nonstop, pressure building up insane.

But he wasn't done. Pulled out again, spun me around, shoved me against the headboard. "Legs up," he ordered, grabbing my ankles, throwing them over his shoulders. He slid back in, fucking me deep, the angle making me yell out as he hit that spot over and over. "Fuck, look at you," he grunted, one hand pinning my wrists above my head, the other squeezing my tit.

I was losing it, thrashing under him. "Don't stop, asshole," I panted. Ethan grinned, biting my neck, pounding me hard. Then he pulled out, dragged me off the bed, shoved me against the wall. "Bend over," he growled, kicking my legs apart. I braced my hands, ass up, and he slammed in, fucking me standing, fast and rough, grunting loud.

"Ethan, shit, I'm close," I gasped. He reached around, rubbing my clit hard. I came screaming, shaking, loud enough to wake the damn hotel. He lost it too, thrusts wild, coming hot and messy inside me with a groan.

We stumbled to the bed, sweaty, panting. I wasn't done—climbed on top, smirking. "Round two, stud," I said, sliding down slow, taking his cock deep. He groaned, hands gripping my hips as I rode him, slow then fast, bouncing hard.

"Fuck, Amanda, you're killing me," he panted, eyes glued to his cock sliding in and out. I leaned back, hands on his thighs, teasing until he cursed. "You loving this?" I said, tightening around him. He moaned loud.

He flipped me onto my side, hooked my leg over his arm. "My turn," he growled, thrusting in deep from this angle, making me yell. His fingers hit my clit, rubbing fast. "Come again," he said, voice rough. I did—shaking, cursing, coming hard while he kept going.

He pulled out, shoved me on my back, straddled my chest. "Suck me," he said, cock in my face. I sucked hard, tasting myself, his hands in my hair guiding me ‘til he groaned, "Fuck, yeah." He flipped me again.

"On your knees," he said. I got up, ass out. He slid in from behind, pulling my hair, smacking my ass, fucking me deep. "You're so fucking hot," he grunted, speeding up, bed creaking.

I pushed back hard. "Give it to me, Ethan," I gasped. He slammed in ‘til I came again, yelling, shaking. He followed, thrusting wild, coming hard with a groan.

We crashed, sweaty, wrecked. Ethan kissed my shoulder sloppy. "Fuck, you're something else," he said.

I grinned, tracing his chest. "Takes a badass to know one."

"No shit," he laughed, fingers teasing my ass. "You'll end me."

I climbed on again. "Round three, big guy," I said, biting his ear, riding him slow. He groaned, hands on my tits. We came together, collapsing.

The morning sun hit me hard, stabbing through my skull as I peeled my eyes open. I squinted around—big bedroom, all grays and blues, floor-to-ceiling windows showing off a city that wasn't mine. Not my bed. Not my house. Where the hell was I?

Last night started crashing back in chunks. Nathan's betrayal—caught on video, no less. Dad's bullshit ultimatum about marrying Harold Wilson. Then the bar, drowning my sorrows, and… oh crap. Ethan Blackwood. That guy I pegged as some slick escort. Did I seriously propose to him? A total stranger?

My phone buzzed on the nightstand—Elizabeth's name glowing. I let it ring three times before picking up. "Where you at?" she snapped.