Sliding his hand down my bare stomach, he inserts one finger inside of me. “So wet for me,” He growls, making me tremble within his strong arms.
I say nothing. I’m nervous of what’s to come. Willing, of course, but very nervous.
He pumps his long fingers and I moan each time he goes a little deeper.
“I love that you’re sitting on my hand right now.” His eyes are wild as he takes in my euphoric expression. “You have no idea how badly I want to be inside of you.”
“Please, Aiden,” I beg.
He shifts underneath me, grabbing his massive length in one hand, and I gasp when I see him in all his glory.
He chuckles. “You sure you want to do this? I feel how tight you are. I don’t want to hurt you.”
His voice is sincere, but the sight of him stroking his length, getting himself ready for me pushes me over the edge. I throw caution to the wind.
“Please, I need you.” My eyes plead with him. I’ve never experienced this want before, this lustful ache or attraction. I can feel the burning desire for him deep in my core.
His features darken as his breathing grows heavy. His voice is deep and filled with lust. “When I fuck you, you’re mine. Got it?”
I hope his words are true. I can’t think straight, and I’m wishing I was better equipped at sex.
“Yes,” I finally say.
An encouraging chuckle escapes his lips. “Good girl.”
He brings himself to my opening and barely gets the tip in before I let out a yelp, not expecting the discomfort.
He retreats instantly and I whimper at the loss. “Why did you stop?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His chest rises and falls quickly.
“I’ll be fine. It’ll hurt anyways, right?” I pout slightly, looking up at him innocently when he doesn’t respond. “You don’t want me?”
He bites his lip, sliding a hand around the nape of my throat. “You know better than that.”
I dig my nails into his back and rock forward, satisfied when I hear him let out a soft moan.
“Later,” He promises, bringing a solitary finger to my lips to silence me. “I want to take you properly. For now, let me make you feel good.”
With that, he lifts my hands above my head and pins them down with one hand while the other slides down my body towards my core. His fingers push into me, stretching me, and I have to admit this is a much more comfortable feeling. I moan his name when his thumb strokes my clit while his long fingers simultaneously pump in and out of me.
“Fuck. I love it when you say my name,” He rumbles into my ear before returning to lavish his attention on that spot on my neck. Moans spill from my lips as my body comes undone from the overwhelming pleasure his fingers bring, my legs shaking.
“Come for me,” He demands.
And I do, just as his mouth crashes down on mine.
∞∞∞
I smile as I wipe the steam from the mirror, watching as Aiden walks up behind me. He pulls my hair away from my neck and kisses the spot he’s been paying a lot of attention to. When he lifts his head, I spot a large purple spot.
“Aiden! You gave me a hickey,” I snap, thinking of ways to cover it up.
“Just marking what’s mine.” He smirks before kissing it once more.
∞∞∞
I can’t believe that just happened. I can still feel his hands on my hips, thighs, neck and between my legs. I shiver as I remember the pleasure he brought me.
Needing a way to collect myself, I throw on one of Ian’s T-shirts over my tank top and a pair of soffee shorts before going to do my laundry. I’ll burn his shirt once I have something clean and comfy to wear. But first, I need some coffee.
Aiden is leaned against the kitchen counter, flipping through some documents as worry lines crease his forehead. He’s dressed smartly for work, all black of course. I take a moment to admire how his tattoos peak through. I’ve never thought much of tattoos before, but they are sexy on him.
I tiptoe around the kitchen as I get myself a cup of coffee, careful not to disturb him. However, my presence is made known when the mug slips from my hand and shatters against the hard tile.
Aiden looks up, his concentration turning to anger as he stares at me. He sets down the papers on the countertop and takes a deep breath.
“What the fuck is that?”
Taken aback by his unexpected anger, I frown slightly. “Umm...I’m sorry, it slipped.”
He straightens, eyeing me. “No, sweetheart, not the mug.” He gestures to me impatiently. “That shirt you have on. I know it’s not yours.”
“Oh, I didn’t have any more clean clothes and Ian’s shirt was all I had.” I state nonchalantly.
He makes his way to me in two strides, emitting a deep, almost territorial laugh. He places his hand out and demands, “Off.”
I take a step back and bump into the countertop. “It’s just a shirt,” I snap.
“You’re mine.” He growls, his eyes darkening.
Rolling my eyes, I slip it off, thankful I have a tank top on underneath. I watch as he takes it from me and chucks it into the trashcan with a smug look. I bend down to pick up the broken shards, but he redirects me to the counter before grabbing the dustpan and doing it himself.
“Come,” He beckons me to follow and I oblige.
He can be demanding but that’s what I like about him. He knows what he wants, and I’m more than happy to follow his commands.
He seats me on the armrest of the couch before laying his luggage out, revealing an array of neatly folded black T-shirts. He grabs one and slips it over my head, his fingers greedily stealing a touch of my skin as he does so.
I blush when he kisses my forehead and whispers, “Better.” He gestures to the coat rack. “If you want it, my hoodie is over there. Wear it whenever you like.”
The delicious scent of his cologne invades my senses making me dizzy.
“Thanks. Why did you get so jealous? It’s just a shirt,” I question out of curiosity.
He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Remember our shower?” His warm hands make their way to the nape of my neck.
I nod as butterflies erupt in my stomach.
“I told you, you were mine. I meant it. I may have not gotten to fuck you properly, but I will. You’re mine now. It’s that simple.” His voice is smooth like silk as he kisses his mark on my neck.
My body trembles with need as I eye the bulge in his pants. A sense of satisfaction washes over me, knowing that he wants me as much as I want him.
He uses his knee to nudge my legs apart as his mouth crashes down on mine, his tongue caressing mine. His knee presses against my core and I moan at the flash of pleasure. I’m surprised by how easily he turns me on. I rock my hips, grinding myself against his leg as whimpers escape me, begging him for relief.
He pulls away with a chuckle.
“Why did you move?” I whine, needing more.
He caresses my inner thigh, his thumb lingering dangerously close to where I want it to touch. “I’m going to be late for work if I stay any longer.”
“When will you be back?” I blush, pressing my thighs together to alleviate the ache. I probably sound desperate, but I don’t really care.