But this was different. Aida was different.
She pulled her lips away from mine, her eyes half-open. “Lorenzo.” Aida placed her hand on my face, her small fingers scratching against the scruff I hadn’t shaved this morning. She stared at me, her eyes holding so many questions, but she didn’t ask a single one of them. Instead, she placed her lips back onto mine, soft and gentle.
I didn’t do soft and gentle, but at that moment, I allowed her to have it. I allowed her to take a piece of me, knowing that what we had in this room right now wouldn’t last. It’d be a blip in my life. A blip I wouldn’t forget.
I turned and sat on the bed, keeping her body pressed against mine as I trailed my hand to her waist, lifting up her T-shirt and groaning at the feel of her naked skin against my fingers. Her hips rocked against me, her body knowing exactly what it wanted.
“Fuck,” I murmured as our lips disconnected. I yanked her T-shirt over her head, revealing her pink lace bra. Her nipples peeked through the material, enticing me. I leaned forward, closing my mouth over her nipple and the bra, sucking on it and cursing that I hadn’t just ripped the damn thing off.
Her hand pushed through my hair, holding me in place as her hips continued to move against my cock. I was so hard, but I didn’t want inside her, not yet. I never did foreplay, not with the other women, but something in me wanted to do it with Aida. I wanted to watch her squirm as I made her orgasm. I wanted to stare at her as she writhed beneath me. I wanted to commit the image of her naked body to my mind so I’d never forget.
I popped her nipple out of my mouth as I darted my hands behind her and pulled at the back of her bra, not having the patience to undo it properly. Her breasts sprung free, a handful that I grasped immediately. I rolled my thumbs over her nipples, staring at her and demanding, “Take my shirt off.”
She bit down on her bottom lip, her shaky hands reaching for me. Slowly she undid the first button, then the second, revealing part of my tan chest. She shuffled back a little on my thighs, her body leaning forward so she could get to all the buttons.
“Your pants?” she asked, moaning as I pinched her nipple. I smirked, loving the way she sounded. It wasn’t fake, wasn’t put on to make me think she was enjoying it. No. This was real. She was real.
“Undo them.” She flicked the clasp and undid the zipper, letting my shirt free. Her gaze lifted, connecting with mine as she slowly pushed my shirt off my shoulders, letting it land in a heap on the bed. I wrapped my arms around her, slamming her chest against mine as I twirled us so that her back was on the bed. I needed to be inside her. I needed to know what it felt like to have her pussy wrapped around my cock.
My hands slid down her waist and to her jeans, where I popped her button and undid her zipper. Her lightly tanned skin glistened as I pulled the denim off of her. We were a frenzy of hands and lips, neither one of us able to hold back.
“You drive me fuckin’ insane,” I told her, yanking at the material of her panties. They tore, the sound like a cannonball blasting through the air. She was bared to me, lying naked on my bed, and it was the most glorious damn sight I’d ever seen.
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” she replied, squirming as I stared down at her. “I never know where I stand with you.”
I trailed my palm down the center of her chest, over her stomach, then cupped her pussy. “Good.” I breathed, trying to stay in control as I slipped my finger over her clit, finding the bundle of nerves that I knew would drive her even crazier.
“You blow hot and cold,” she stammered out, jerking her hips in response to me pushing a finger inside her. She bit down on her bottom lip, not breaking my stare for a second as I pressed my thumb to her clit. I grinned down at her, unfastening my zipper the rest of the way and pulling my slacks down. My cock sprung free, the glistening head begging to be inside her.
“Lorenzo,” she gasped as I pulled my finger out and spread more of her wetness over her clit.
I stroked her with one hand and my cock with the other, wondering what the fuck I did to deserve her. Nothing, I told myself. I’d done nothing to deserve her, but I was going to take her anyway. I was going to steal what shouldn’t have been mine. I was going to ruin her for anybody else. Because with the ring on her finger and the look in her eyes, I knew I had her where I wanted her.
Leaning closer to her, I lined my cock up with her entrance, my hand rubbing her at lightning speed, and as soon as her back bowed with her impending orgasm, I pummeled inside her. She screamed, not expecting it, her pussy clamping down on my cock so hard I was afraid she’d cut off the blood supply.
She was tight, tighter than I thought she would be. “Fuck,” I gritted out, watching her as the pain from me intruding her mixed in with the pleasure of her orgasm. My hips thrust forward, then back, my eyes squeezing shut at the intensity from being inside of her.
It was too much for me to handle. And I was beginning to think she was too much for me to handle. Had I taken on a task I wasn’t ready for? Had I made the wrong move in choosing her?
It was too late now.
Too late, now I knew what her lips against mine felt like.
Too late, now I knew the feel of her pussy.
I thrust inside her again, picking up speed as her muscles loosened, and when I finally felt like I wouldn’t snap, I opened my eyes back up, shocked at seeing her staring right at my face. She didn’t say a word, not when I pumped in and out of her, not when she reached up and placed her hand on my chest over my heart, and not when I lost control, coming inside her.
“Fuck.” I yanked my cock out, wide-eyed. “Fuck!” I clenched my hands, backing away from her. “I didn’t use a condom.”
“You didn’t…” Aida laughed and sat up, grabbing the nearest thing to her—my shirt—and wrapping it around her body. “You didn’t wear a condom?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I made a mistake.” I always wore protection. Always. But I’d been so wrapped up in her that I hadn’t even thought about it. She’d made me forget. She’d made me forget my own rules.
AIDA
“I made a mistake.”
His words spun around and around in my mind. Someone had clicked the repeat button because I couldn’t get them out of my head as I stared at him. He was an Adonis who stood in front of me naked, his abs tensing as he backed away another step, his hands outstretched as if he was trying to find his way.
I stood, my stomach rolling and threatening to bring up everything I’d eaten that day.
He’d made a mistake.
Shaking my head, I stepped toward his bedroom door, noticing how he was still staring at the bed as if he could change what just happened.
He’d made a mistake.
My chest heaved as I walked away from him and across the hall, hearing his murmurings as I went. My backpack sat in a heap next to my door, but I didn’t have the energy to pick it up. Instead, I quietly opened my door and stepped inside my room.
He’d made a mistake.
No.
I had made a mistake.
I’d made a mistake thinking he was anything but an asshole. I’d made a mistake in saying I would marry him. I’d made the mistake when I’d let him slip the ring on my finger.
I swallowed, trying to make the lump in my throat disappear, but it was no use. I’d let him have a part of me. I’d given myself over like I was worth nothing. I hated it. I hated him. But more than that, I hated myself.