“You absolutely do.” She yanked the button free, and he lifted his hips so she could push the denim down. “Better start talking.”
His eyes followed her hands as they moved down his stomach to wrap around his cock. She stroked her tongue along the underside, base to tip, and he gave a hissed “Fuck.”
“That”—she smirked up at him—“was not an apology.”
His hips twitched forward, then he jerked again when she repeated the motion along the top of his cock. She reveled in the power she had to command his whole body with these small, soft touches.
“I’m sorry I disappeared,” he gritted out. “I won’t do it again.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She rewarded him with another long lick, but this time she ended it by swirling her tongue at the top while she curled her fingers around the base and squeezed.
He groaned, and the back of his head hit the cushion of the chair. “I’m sorry you felt neglected.” His words emerged through clenched teeth. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“You absolutely will.”
This time she took his full length into her mouth and lost herself in the sensations: the loose grip of his hands in her hair. The slide and retreat of his cock between her lips. The hollowing of her cheeks and the flutter of her tongue. The pulse between her legs that ached to be filled by him.
She glanced up and found his eyes closed, the tendons in his neck taut, and for a moment the hurt of the past week roared back. Was he withher, or was he in his own world where she was just another hookup, some anonymous woman in the lineup?
But almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, his eyes opened, and his bright gaze found hers. “Killer.”
He breathed that ridiculous nickname with so much affection, with so much warmth in those hazel eyes, that for a moment she lost the rhythm of her hand and her tongue as she worked him. He took the opportunity to grab her shoulders and haul her up his body. His arms crushed her against him, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, the delicious invasion mimicking what she was desperate to have him do to the rest of her.
“Clothes off,” he murmured, pulling her shirt up and over her head.
Within half a minute, they were both naked and he’d produced a condom from his wallet. Without a word, Aiden spun her so her back was to his front, and he guided her down to straddle him until she was impaled on the full length of him as they both faced the silent river beyond.
She whimpered at the rightness of being so full of him, surrounded by him. Night had fallen, and the room was bathed in silvery light. She was the princess in her castle, and he was her glimmering prince, once remote and untouchable as the moon outside but now alive and responsive as quicksilver under her fingers.
She braced herself on the arms of the lounger and rocked against him as his clever fingers roamed over her front, brushing her nipples, circling her clit, stroking and teasing, pinching and soothing. He chanted her name as if it was something sacred, and her breath came in pants as her pleasure built and built. She circled her hips, the motion becoming jerky and uncoordinated when his fingers moved exactly where she needed them on her breast, between her legs. When his teeth grazed the back of her neck, the lightning bolt of her orgasm raced through her. After the spasms passed, he pulled her tight so her shoulder blades pressed against his chest, and she tipped her head backward to meet his mouth in a kiss as his thrusts quickened and he followed her over the precipice.
For a few long minutes, the only sound was the nighttime chirps and whirs of the insects behind the window and their breaths winding down into relaxed drowsiness.
“Am I forgiven?”
She felt the words vibrate under his rib cage almost as much as she heard them emerge from his lips, and she turned her head to nuzzle into his neck. “I forgave you back in the kitchen.”
“Scammer.” He pinched her nipple lightly, and she shivered. “Let’s head upstairs so I can keep apologizing.”
* * *
The next morning,Thea woke up all tangled in Aiden. It was an experience she’d recommend to anyone—if she were willing to share him, which she definitely wasn’t. She allowed herself the luxury of watching his relaxed face until he slowly stirred into wakefulness under her gaze.
He blinked as his eyes focused on her, then smiled drowsily. “Imagine if we were waking up under a skylight.”
The words in his rough morning voice made her laugh. “You and your skylight obsession.” She slid an arm around his waist and propped her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. “Want to tell me about yesterday?”
She held her breath, not sure if he’d share with her after he’d slammed a metaphorical door in her face earlier in the week. But to her delight, he spilled every detail of his trip: his dad’s progress, his mom’s tentative foray into big-city living, their decision to retire, even his brotherly reckoning.
“So I guess I’d better find us a good cooking class,” she said when he was done.
“Yep. You’ll like Ashley. Her only real flaw is marrying my brother.”
She giggled and smacked his chest lightly. “So the other stuff you said yesterday. About the agreement.”
“What would you say if we just… kept doing this?” He rolled to his side and smiled down at her. His hair was sleep-tousled, and stubble covered his jaw. He’d never looked more perfect.
“Me. Sleeping withAiden freaking Murdochon a regular basis.” She tried the sentence on for size, but her words made him close his eyes in a wince.
