Aaron stepped closer.
His hands rose of their own accord, though he made them move lightly, deliberately. He traced the line of her collarbone with a fingertip, memorizing the way her skin warmed beneath his touch. She trembled, barely, and satisfaction curled low in his spine.
She wanted him. Badly. And he wanted her just as fiercely.
He lowered his mouth to her shoulder, brushing a kiss against her skin. Soft. Controlled. A warning and a promise in one. The faint taste of her, sweet, warm, and maddening, nearly pulled a groan from his throat.
Not yet.
He kissed her again, slower, letting each touch build heat without giving in to haste. Her breath hitched. Her fingers hovered at his shoulders, not clutching him, but nearly.
Perfect.
He slid his hands to her waist, letting his thumbs stroke small circles along the fabric still shielding her. Her body leanedtoward him in a helpless, instinctive way that made restraint feel like a blade pressed to his own throat.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, though every part of him prayed she wouldn’t.
“Don’t stop,” she said and looked up at him with wide, desperate eyes that told him exactly how far she’d fall if he let her.
He exhaled slowly. Then he took her mouth, drawing a small, broken sound from her that fed something primal inside him.
He guided her backward onto the bed, bracing himself above her, ensuring she felt his strength without the full weight of his want. His mouth wandered along her throat, savoring the flutter of her pulse as his hands continued their measured exploration while never slipping where he shouldn’t, but skirting close enough that her body tightened beneath his.
She arched helplessly, seeking more pressure, more contact, morehim.
Good. Let her feel the wanting.
Aaron let his lips trail to the sensitive hollow beneath her ear, allowing the barest scrape of his teeth before soothing the spot with a kiss. Her soft gasp nearly undid him.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, letting his hand ghost down her ribs, feeling every shiver he caused. “Is that for me?”
She swallowed, and her breath was unsteady. “Aaron … please …”
His control thinned dangerously at the sound of her pleading, but he grasped it, held it tight, because he knew the effect of restraint. Knew what anticipation did to her.
“Say it again,” he whispered against her skin, savoring the way she shivered. “Let me hear you ask.”
Her whisper came ragged, urgent, utterly undone. “Please.”
A victorious heat surged through him, dark and intoxicating, but he kept his voice low, steady, perfectly in command.
“Good.”
And with a slow, deliberate touch, he gave her exactly what she begged for, guiding her toward release with expert patience. His fingers slowly thrummed on the tight bud between her thighs. A slow, deliberate rhythm that caused a flush of red to bloom across her chest.
When he felt she was nearing the edge, his hand stilled, and a cry of frustration tore from her. He eased a finger into her folds, and he watched the shift in her expression. His finger slid deeper and quicker into her, over and over, until she finally broke apart beneath him, beautiful and breathless.
Aaron held her through the shuddering aftermath, letting the storm in her settle even as the storm in him raged.
Control. He would keep it. For both their sakes.
He lifted her wrapper and helped her put it back on, smoothed her hair, all while she watched him with dazed eyes.
“You’re not him,” she whispered.
Aaron’s hands stilled. “What?”
“Your father. You’re not him.” Louise touched his face with trembling fingers. “He would have taken what he wanted without thought. You give pleasure while denying yourself. You protect even when you claim.”
