“Tada.”
Aiden’s eyes sweep across my face. A devastating wildfire blazes behind the hazel, and he hums his approval. The noise reverberates across my chest and settles between my legs.
“Maggie,” he says. The tone is reserved for repenting sinners, making a deal with a deity for eternal salvation. And he’s using it onme. “You are so beautiful.”
THIRTEEN
AIDEN
“Can I—”I start.
“Please,” she says.
I look at her and soak her in, taking my time to rake over the luxurious lace decorating her body. It’s green, a deep hue that brings out the brightness in her eyes. Her skin is tan, like she’s spent hours on a beach or sailing the Mediterranean on a catamaran, letting the sun kiss her body and making it glow.
The triangle top cuts across her chest with exact precision. The fabric is thicker over her nipples so they aren’t visible, but you can see the outline. The hint of rosy pink. The tease of pebbled peaks. My imagination runs wild, dreaming about how they would taste under my tongue or feel pinched between my fingers.
The top portion stretches halfway down her stomach, stopping well above her belly button. There I find the first spot of bare skin, unhidden by the scraps of material I want to rip off. Her stomach is slightly softer, morphing to a cinched waist and voluptuous hips. Sinister, wretched,fuckablethings.
I wonder how they’d feel to hold. How they would look decorated with my fingerprints as she sinks onto me and controls the pace. Languid, intentional, slow to savor the moment.
Fucking wonderful, if I had to guess.
A pair of underwear covers her bottom half. It shows off some of her ass, classy, yet taunting. Breathing, I discover, is difficult. Erratic at best, and coming in through quick gulps.
Maggie seems to interpret my silence as disgust or disappointment. She shifts on her feet and folds her arms across her chest, a one-person hug to keep herself hidden.
“I’m, uh, I know I’m not—” She stops abruptly. My attention moves away from the dip of her thighs to her face. There’s raw vulnerability in her eyes, a frown on her lips. “I haven’t been to the gym in a while. I know I have love handles and some cellulite. My thighs touch, too.”
It dawns on me, then. At some point in her life, Maggie has had to make herself appear smaller, less wonderful, to make others happy. And that makes my blood boil.
I blow out a breath and step closer. I place my hands on her shoulders, running my palms up and down her arms, erasing the goosebumps sprouting on her skin. “I’m going to tell you something embarrassing. It’s vulgar, and you’re going to have to forgive me, but you need to hear it.”
Maggie nods and her lip quirks, the frown evaporating. “What is it?”
“I’m hard as hell, Maggie. Because of you. I’m dying a slow death being this close to you and not being able to do anything about it.” She doesn’t try to hide the glance down at my briefs. The obvious strain, the tightness I so badly want to relieve. All because of her. “Don’t think for a second your body is anything less than goddamn perfect, because it is.”
Before I can blink, her lips are pressing on my cheek, a kiss to my beard. “Thank you, Aiden.”
I pat her shoulder. It’s the least sexy move I’ve ever done in my entire life, but if I grip her hips like I want, if I touch her back and cup her ass like I want, I’m going to throw her on the bed, unable to control myself. Shoulders are safe, a neutral territory that won’t get me in trouble and lead me to burying my face in her legs, burning the inside of her thigh with my stubble.
“Whenever you two are ready, we’ll start.” Jeremiah is kind this time, not rushing us along. “I’m only having three assistants help with these shots. I didn’t want you two to feel overwhelmed.”
I drop my forehead to hers. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” She nods and finds my hand. “Ready.”
Giving her palm a squeeze, we walk to the bed. Rose petals litter the sheets, and full-stemmed flowers are scattered across the pillows. I let her climb on first and keep my eyes on the floor instead of the swell of her ass as she bends over in front of me. She gets comfortable on the mattress, using her elbow to prop herself up. I sit on the edge and swing my legs over, lying parallel to her. Jeremiah moves to the foot of the bed, with one of his assistants remaining on the side. Another woman leans over and arranges Maggie’s hair out of her face before stepping back and disappearing.
“Hey,” I say. There’s a rose with a stem full of thorns close to her arm. I brush it away so she doesn’t get hurt.
“Hi.” Maggie smiles.
“Want to hear something pathetic?”
“Always.”
“I haven’t been in bed with a woman in almost five years,” I admit.
