Ethan Frome Mga Nobela at Kwento

I bent over and showed my ass, then rolled my hips slowly and seductively. Fingers ran down my crack, around my rim, and then inside. I was slowly fucking myself with two fingers while I moaned for the dark figures watching. Then the door swung open. The frame was filled with a tall figure. Cigar smoke swirled around him. He moved forward into the light. Grey eyes. Hair that is both salt and pepper. Suit made to fit. Elliott. My fingers froze inside me. My pussy clenched so hard it hurt. He didn't smile. Did not talk. Just stared at my open thighs, my slick fingers deep inside, and my arousal dripping down my thighs.

Ethan whispered. I looked up and nodded. "Yes, why not?" His gaze shifted downwards and that's when I realized I was gripping his arm. "Sorry." I released it.. It felt like we were inside a giant globe.Al that was missing was the snow. But instead of snow, we had golden lights. "Ethan Wilder." A man in a white tuxedo, a gruff voice and white hair and beard stopped in front of us, leaning on a brown cane and a steel wolf head. He had a glass in his hand.

Ethan stood behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Do you remember the night we met?" he asked softly. "I remember the rain," she said. "And the wolf. And you stepping out of the car like you owned the storm." "I didn't own anything," Ethan whispered. "I was a King with no country. I had money, power, land... but I was hollow. My wolf was screaming in an empty room." He turned her around to face him. "Then you fell into my chest. Muddy. Terrified. carrying another man’s child."

Ethan spent the next two months in a daze, drifting through life like a shadow. He began to leave the house frequently, always returning exhausted. My spectral form grew weaker by the day, unable to withstand direct sunlight, so I had no idea where Ethan was going or what he was doing. Until one deep night, when Ethan left the house again. I followed him to a cemetery by the sea. In front of a gravestone with my photo attached to it, I saw the inscription:

Now standing in front of the door, Ethan had his hand on the knob, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. He didn't know how to face me or Theo, and he didn't even know how to explain years of terrible behavior. Only when the toy in his hand was nearly crushed out of shape did he finally summon the courage to step inside. But what welcomed him was not two familiar figures—it was just darkness and suffocating silence. Ethan's expression froze. He flicked on the lights and searched through every room. But the apartment was barely 900 square feet, and there wasn't much to search for.

ETHAN The rain leaked heavily through the cracked roof of the abandoned warehouse, little water pools under my boots showing me a reflection of my face. The Informant said she was in here hiding out, she didn't look like a high - society Luna anymore or the girl i knew in Eldenridge. She looked like a drowned, frantic rat, her hands shaking violently as she aimed a stolen gun towards where I stood. Having been watching her for the longest, since i entered this warehouse. “Come out!” She shrieked, her voice shaking as she panicked further. “I know you're there,Ethan! I can smell you! I'm not afraid of you!”

Mary Jane took a deep breath as she walked over to Ethan and Clifford’s table. The cosy café, with its warm lighting and comforting smells, suddenly felt too big and too small all at once. Her heart raced, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her apron. Ethan Cogsworth wasn’t just any customer; he was a billionaire, known for his powerful place in the business world. And she was just a barista, trying to get by.

Vauxmoor's Bar & Grill was trendy but not boisterous to the point where we had to shout to talk. I mostly just enjoyed my view anyway. Seated over his plate of steak, Ethan was the picture of polite English gentleman. One supremely hot English gentleman. Gone was the heat and promise of sweaty sex we'd shared at the elevators. He'd turned that off just as quickly as he'd turned me on. "How did an American find herself at university so far from home?"

Ethan leaned against the doorframe, and put one leg in front of the other. - "Yes" - "What's wrong with you?" he asked directly. - "We have a friendship" - "A friendship?" the man frowned. Ethan's eyes were always a mystery. The man had been trained not to feel or show anything. His eyes shone, but they conveyed no emotion. They were a beautiful mountain of ice. In that position, the rays of light that passed through the window reflected on Ethan, and made his silhouette appear golden. It was a very beautiful irony. He, with all his darkness, illuminated by the brightest light the world had ever known.

I was thinking about something else. "So, your name is Ethan?" I asked him, looking directly at his eyes. "Why did you lie to me? Why were you hiding your name?" I was feeling kind of betrayed as I spoke to him. I looked at him. He tried to open up his mouth to say something but it was already enough for me... "I'm going at the stream. I need to take a walk! You don't have to worry that I am gonna escape! I don’t have wings like Mr. Fatso!"