My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 102: Heaven And Back (18+)

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My lips found Ethan’s again, urgent, as I swallowed the soft moan he let out. I pressed harder, whispering "shh, shh," thinking maybe a kiss could hush us both.

Every thrust of his hips sent a shock through me, denim rubbing against denim, the thick outline of him moving over mine in slow, motions. I could feel my own cock pulsing, trapped and leaking, the friction maddening—yet it still didn’t feel like enough.

’God, it’s too much, but not enough.’

Ethan’s hands were all over me. One slid under my shirt, flat against my spine, tracing each vertebra as if he was mapping me out. His fingers were warm, and when one dipped to the small of my back, pulling me closer, I couldn’t help but arch into him, shuddering. The other hand went lower, cupping my ass, guiding our rhythm... up, down, circling, until I was instinctively rocking against him, my thighs trembling.

I bit down on his lower lip to muffle the whimper rising in my throat. In response, he inhaled sharply, his hips bucking against mine, making the thin walls of the stall shake slightly. ’They’ll hear us. They’ll hear.’

That thought shot through me like fire, but I couldn’t stop. The carpet scraped my knees, the air heavy with the scent of new clothes, Ethan’s cologne, and the faint musk that showed just how turned on we were.

His thumb brushed the waistband of my jeans, teasing the skin above it, and I jolted, pressing down with a silent gasp. "Right there."

Each movement brought us together in a way that made my vision blur at the edges. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to tilt his head back, and I kissed him deeper, our tongues dancing, desperate to keep quiet, to stay hidden.

Ethan’s breath hitched against my mouth. His hand squeezed my ass, fingers digging in, setting a rhythm that felt like it was unraveling me. I realized with both panic and thrill that I was going to come—right there, panicking and exhilarated, in a changing room, fully dressed, with Vanessa and her minions just a few feet away.

And for a split second, I wondered how they would react once they caught Ethan and I like this.

Yeah, I don’t fucking care.

I buried my face in his neck, lips brushing against a fresh hickey I’d left earlier, letting the next grind pull a soundless cry from my chest. The pressure coiled tighter, like a hot wire twisting in my belly. Ethan’s hips snapped up, once, twice—each grind teasing the head of my cock against the seam of his jeans, and I totally lost it.

It hit me like a wave crashing down, sudden and overwhelming. My whole body locked up, my thighs clamping around his as I stifled a scream behind clenched teeth. Pleasure rolled through me in thick waves, spilling hot and wet into my boxers. I felt every pulse, every uncontrollable jerk of my hips as I came undone against him.

Oh God, I’m coming. I’m really coming...!

The thought spun in my mind, both frantic and euphoric. My vision went white for a moment, ears ringing, all the sounds of the store fading to nothing. Ethan’s hand on my back pressed down harder, grounding me as I shuddered through it, rolling my hips in tiny circles to chase those last sparks. My forehead pressed against his neck, breath coming in ragged gasps against his skin.

A few minutes later, his own hips faltered under me, a low sound vibrating in his chest. I felt warmth spread through his jeans, the way he tensed and then relaxed, fingers gripping my ass like he was holding on for dear life. We stayed locked together, trembling, the aftershocks rippling between us.

’Wow...’ My thoughts blanked out. ’That was my first.’

My first orgasm with someone else.

I’d never experienced anything like it—the powerful rush, the way I still buzzed, oversensitive and floaty. Ethan’s hand moved to cradle the back of my head, thumb gently stroking through my hair. I held onto him, heart racing, the evidence of what we’d just done warming my jeans.

Vanessa’s voice broke through the haze. "Shannon, hurry the hell up!"

I flinched, reality crashing back. But Ethan just pressed a gentle kiss to my temple, murmuring, "You okay, pretty boy?"

I nodded against him, too overwhelmed to respond, still riding the high of my first orgasm in his arms. We stayed tangled on the carpet, my head on Ethan’s shoulder, his arms wrapped firmly around me, making the outside world feel like it was miles away. His lips brushed my cheek... soft, lazy kisses that sent shivers through me.

"You okay?" he whispered again, his voice rough yet gentle.

I nodded, my throat dry. "That was... amazing." My voice was small, filled with awe. My body still buzzed, heavy and relaxed, like I’d been recharged. "I didn’t know it could feel like that."

Ethan chuckled softly, nuzzling me. "First time’s always a wild ride." He kissed my cheek again, then my jaw, slow and tender. "You were perfect."

I melted into him, exhausted, my eyes half-closed. The warmth in my jeans was starting to cool, but I didn’t care—at least not yet. I just wanted to stay right there, wrapped up in him, breathing in his scent.

Eventually, the voices faded, Vanessa’s sharp laugh, Shannon’s murmuring response... they finally disappeared, footsteps receding. Silence spread through the boutique like a comforting blanket.

Ethan shifted slightly, listening. "Coast’s clear," he murmured but didn’t make a move to get up. He held me a little longer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.

Finally, with a soft groan, he eased me off his lap. "Come on, pretty boy. Time to get up."

I wobbled as he helped me stand, my legs shaky, face flushing when I looked down to see dark, obvious stains on both our jeans. "Oh God, no."

Ethan just smiled that charming, lopsided grin that always made my stomach flip.

"Battle scars," he teased, brushing a thumb over my cheek. "Totally worth it."

He grabbed a pack of wipes from a display near the mirrors, thank goodness for boutique samples and cleaned us up as best as he could, gentle and efficient, like he’d done this many times before. I stood there, dazed and blushing, letting him take care of me.

"These are... pretty wrecked," he remarked, eyeing our ruined jeans. Then, with a wink: "Guess we’re going shopping for real."

Ten minutes later, we walked out with two new pairs soft, dark denim for me, slim black for him. The cashier didn’t seem to notice or care much... I guess something like this is just part of the scene in a boutique.

Ethan paid, his arm casually draped around my shoulders, like we hadn’t just fallen apart in a changing stall.

As we left the store, bags swinging, he leaned down and whispered, "Next time, we’re doing that without an audience outside."

Oh, next time...

I buried my burning face in his broad back and laughed, feeling light and giddy.