I catch her wrist again, pulling her hand away from my dick, ignoring her whimper of protest. “Lie down,” I say, my voice rough.
She obeys without hesitation, moving to the centre of the bed, her legs trembling slightly. I kneel in front of her, my hands sliding up her calves, over her knees.
She’s shaking now, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her hands clutching the edge of the mattress like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. I press a kiss to the inside of her knee, then higher, my lips trailing up her thigh, my tongue darting out to taste her skin. She’s salty, sweet, her scent thickening the closer I get to her centre.
“Aaron—” Her voice is a plea, desperate, needy.
I glance up at her, my breath warm against the damp fabric of her knickers. “You smell so fucking good.”
Her face flushes darker, but she doesn’t look away. She watches me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as I hook my fingers into the waistband of her knickers and tug them down her legs. They’re soaked, the fabric clinging to her but then they yield and the sight of her pussy framed by glistening dark curls makes my cock ache.
I toss her underwear aside, my hands sliding up her thighs, pushing them further apart. She resists for a second, her muscles tensing, before she lets me open her up, her knees falling to the sides. Her pussy is perfect—smooth, swollen, her lips flushed dark pink, already slick with arousal. I can see how wet she is, the way her juices glisten in the light, the way her clit is peeking out from its hood, tight and begging for my mouth.
“Fuck,” I groan, my thumbs spreading her open further. “Look at you. So pretty. So wet.”
She whimpers, her hips lifting slightly, like she’s trying to get closer. But I will take my time, even if it costs me all of my strength. This woman needs to be worshipped, not taken.
Chapter 17
Eve
His eyes are lockedon the dark triangle between my legs. He seems to admire, almost worship it. Who knew this was a thing. I am trying to ready myself for him to touch me there but then his mouth is on my mouth again.
His kiss is nothing like I expected. It’s not rough or demanding—it’s soft. Coaxing. His lips move against mine with a patience that sets all my nerves on fire, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth until I part for him on a shuddering breath. The slide of his tongue against mine is electric, sending a jolt straight between my legs, and I moan into his mouth, my hands flying to his shoulders.
Aaron deepens the kiss, his tongue tangling with mine, teaching me without words how to move, how to take. His hands slide down my back, lifting me from the mattress and pulling me flush against him. I can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach. The knowledge that he’s just as affected as I am sends a thrill through me, and I kiss him back harder, my nails digging into his back.
He groans, the sound vibrating against my lips, and then he’s pulling back, his breath ragged. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he mutters, pressing his forehead to mine.
I whimper, my lips swollen, my body throbbing. “Aaron—”
“Shh.” His lips find my jaw, then my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. I gasp, my head tilting back, giving him better access. His hands slide down, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist before dipping lower, between my thighs.
I freeze.
His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as his fingers brush against my folds. “Trust me,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot.
I do. God help me, I do.
His fingers part me, slipping through the slickness there, and I moan, my hips jerking forward. He groans, his lips finding mine again as his fingers explore me, teasing my entrance before sliding inside.
“Oh God,” I gasp against his mouth, my fingers clutching at his shoulders. He’s inside me. His fingers are inside me, stretching me, filling me in a way I’ve never—
“You’re so tight,” he growls, his fingers curling just right, hitting a spot that makes my vision white out. “So fucking wet.”
I can’t form words. All I can do is moan, my body moving against his hand, chasing the pleasure building low in my belly. His thumb finds my clit, circling lazily, and my breath hitches.
“Aaron, I—” I can’t finish. The words dissolve into a whimper as his fingers crook inside me, his thumb pressing down just… there.
“Not yet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. And then he’s pulling back, his fingers slipping free, leaving me empty. Aching.
I whine in protest, my hips lifting off the bed, but he chuckles, the sound aroused and knowing. “Patience,” he says, standing.
I watch, dazed, has his hands go to his boxers, pushing them down his hips, and—
Oh.
Oh, my.
