He stops spinning us around and puts me down in front of him, looking at me expectantly. “Mmm?”
“Can you kiss me already?”
This sound I can only call an impatient groan—one that’s raspy, full of need—greets my ears and within another second, one of his huge hands is wrapped around the back of my head and he pulls my face into his. He slowly, slowly takes my mouth with his, closing his lips so softly around my top lip, and I hear another of those groans from him, but this time Ifeelit against me, too. The response in my body is instant; need floods my system, and I’m clawing at his biceps where they wrap around me.
His mouth moves against mine slowly, so fucking slowly, like he’s sampling an expensive bourbon, trying to appreciate every single hidden note contained within its secret formula. Like he can figure out the age of the barrel if he just takes another slow sip, and then one more for good measure.
I’m ready to just get drunk. Treat this like a frat party, like a game of beer pong. Fuck me up, let me pass out from the instant high of it all. Give the medics a reason to pump my stomach, idc. We have forever to take things slow. Right now? I just wantallof him.
Instead, he’s relishing each and every kiss, each tease, like it’s some sort of payback for not getting to partake sooner. And actually, I’m positive this pace will absolutely be the death of me if he keeps this up.
The lips I’ve dreamt about more than I could possibly quantify are on mine, moving in a way even sexier than I dreamed they’d be, commanding me to open for him, and then his tongue touches mine, and I’m putty.
He’s delving, tasting, taking me in, and our mouths are moving together like they were meant to for all these years. I can hardly keep up with the need being created deep within my abdomen from his brand of torture.
While my brain catches up to all of the new experiences my mouth is currently enjoying, my attention spans across the rest of my body—and his, where ours are joined—taking stock of each and every sensation I’m currently reveling in. His hand that isn’t gripping the back of my head is roaming up and down my back, all the way to my hips and back up again, so damn delicate. My hands have found their way to his chest, squished between our torsos, with absolutely no room to breathe between us. I bring the right one up to cradle his jawline, touching him there reverently, still kind of not believing this is my reality, like a waking dream. My left hand traces those muscles under his shirt, the firm pecs there, the indentation between them, and he shivers under my touch.
His tongue is sweeping mine gently, exploring, like he’s mapping it for future excursions; getting to know this part of me intimately, just like he knows the rest of me—all the parts no one else ever has.
Now I need him to get acquainted with the very last bits of me he’s yet to learn. Urgently. Think his need is just as dire as mine, if that hardness pressing into my belly is any indication. He’s just showing a level of self-restraint I don’t think I possess at this point. I need him tosnapand join me on this level of desperation.
When he brings the kiss to a close with a satisfied noise from somewhere deep in his throat, I open my eyes to find him staring deep into mine.
“Please,” I beg him. “Please take me to that bed in there and break it and me in.”
His eyes darken with heat, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched as he shakes his head just once.
“God, no, Gem. I’m going to take my time with you. Savor every single second you give yourself to me.”
My eyes flutter backward at his words, that tone, just as my knees give out.
Aaron’s arms are still around me, and he doesn’t let me fall. He does chuckle at me though.
“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” My voice is a little weak, but can you blame me?
He walks me backward until I’m pressed against the balcony railing, supported by both it and him. My heart beats in triple time out of fear for just a few seconds, until I feel how steady and secure it is underneath the weight of our bodies. And then my heart keeps beating in triple time for a completely different reason.
Aaron’s got his right arm behind my body, holding me to him, while his other hand sneaks around to my front, teasing the skin underneath the hem of my soft sweater, stroking it delicately, and causing shivers to break out all along my midsection. I don’t think I’m the only one that can feel my nipples tighten with how close our chests are pressed together.
He brings his mouth back down to mine, taking my breath away as he brings that one hand farther north, where he touches every inch of me that he can reach, my stomach, my side, all of it reacting to him like it’s a lot more than an innocent area he’s touching.
I don’t know how much oxygen a living person needs to remain conscious, but I know that I’m not getting it. I also know that I don’t fucking care. If this is my time to go, I’m ready. This is all I’ve ever needed, and now that I have it…I’m set.
His mouth moving against mine, that tongue plunging into me with such promise…I’m losing consciousness, but still I’dtrade that for more of this, more of him. I might actually faint if he keeps this up, but I amnottelling him to stop.
Minutes, hours, maybe lifetimes later, Aaron pulls his mouth away from mine, my face gripped tightly between his hands, both of us gasping for air, my thin body held up against the railing by his firm one. I need him closer, so my hands start clawing at his shoulders, trying to pull him nearer to me. I never want a shred of distance between us again.
Lucky for me, he brings his head even closer still, those swollen, skilled lips of his making their way to the side of my head, where they press against my ear, the hair hanging over it. The contrast of his scratchy jawline against my silk and softness sends another bolt of desire through me, and I shudder to imagine the state of my underwear right now. Rip. You went out in style, old gal.
The voice he uses? I’ve never heard it from him before—not on-screen, not off. It’s raspy, delicious, and I commit it to memory.
“I’ve wanted to taste you so bad, Gem. Been dreaming of getting my mouth between your legs. Getting you off with my tongue. Can I? Please?”
I’m mumbling, murmuring, might be seeing the gates to heaven behind my eyes right now. Doubt anything leaving my mouth is intelligible, but he must’ve heard what he needed to, because he’s chuckling at me again, and that handfinallyworks its way up to my chest, beneath the material of my shirt. He palms one entire breast firmly (one definite perk of being smaller-chested), before swapping to the other, trailing his fingers down below the thin cup of my bra and rolling my peaked nipple between his finger and thumb. It’s like he’s working me for something, demanding a response from my body, but I don’t know what else he wants from me. I’d give him everything, but he already has it from me. My head falls back, over the railing,and I don’t even spare a thought for the safety or integrity of this damn structure. The only thing that matters right now is his hands on me, his mouth on me. All of him on all of me.
“That feel good?” he asks in that same raspy tone.
“Mmm,” is the only thing my brain is capable of getting my vocal cords to say.
