thirty-three
LUCY
Ibreathe him in, savoring the faint trace of sea salt that always lingers on his skin, wondering if it will always be there or if one day it’ll fade. Isla’s tucked in bed, the house is quiet, and we’re curled up on the couch.
“I’m sorry we don’t get much time alone,” Aidan says quietly.
I tilt my head up from his shoulder. “Don’t apologize. I love every second with you, whether we’re alone or not.”
His lips twitch, amusement dancing in his stormy eyes. “Aye, but I wouldn’t mind a bit more time where we don’t have to worry about tiny ears overhearing things they shouldn’t.”
Heat prickles up my neck, memories flashing through my mind of whispered confessions, rough hands, and the way his voice turns molten when he tells me exactly what he wants. And how I never hesitate to give it to him.
I swallow, trying to ignore the way my pulse kicks up. “Well,” I murmur, letting my fingers trace absent patterns against his chest, “when you put it like that, I wouldn’t mind an evening with you, either.”
“Just an evening? I’d need at least a full day to do everything I have in mind.”
Heat coils low in my stomach, and before I can stop myself, I drag a teasing finger up his thigh. “Well, can I get a little preview tonight?”
He huffs a low laugh, but the sound turns into something rougher. “That’s a bit forward, lass.” His voice drops, turning to pure sin. “But fuck yes you can. Head upstairs and get ready for me. I’ll be up soon.”
A sharp pulse of need shoots through me, and I scramble to my feet, nearly tripping in my rush. My heart is hammering as I climb the stairs, each step sending a new wave of anticipation through me. My skin hums, tingling with the kind of energy that makes my breath come short, goosebumps rising despite the heat of the house.
I’m still getting used to this version of me that comes alive under his hands. Even now, I can feel him like a phantom touch, setting every nerve ending on fire before he’s even laid a finger on me.
I fumble with the buttons of my shirt. Each piece of clothing that slips from my body only heightens the thrill coursing through me. By the time I perch on the edge of the bed, my skin is flushed, my breath uneven.
Every creak of the floorboards downstairs makes me jump. I picture him taking the stairs two at a time, his jaw set with that delicious determination, driven by the same urgency I’m feeling.
The soft click of the door pulls my breath out of me. Aidan’s there, framed in the hallway light, broad shoulders just catching the glow. His eyes lock on mine.
“Goddamn,” he exhales. “You’re…unreal.”
His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate, leaving no inch of bare skin unacknowledged. I’m exposed, yes, but powerful,too. I could ask him for anything right now, and he’d give it to me.
He finally stalks toward me, shedding his clothes along the way. My pulse pounds as, inch by inch, he reveals his broad shoulders, the sculpted lines of his chest, and the strength coiled beneath his skin.
He stops in front of me, his warm, calloused hand cradling my cheek, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and hungry, lock onto mine as he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“You like it when I tell you what to do, don’t you?” His voice is a low rumble against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Words, Lucy,” he commands softly. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I like it.”
His lips curve into a smile against my neck. “Good girl.”
Those two simple words make my entire body flush with heat. He knows exactly what they do to me, how they make me melt.
He lays me back onto the bed, his body following mine until I’m pinned beneath his weight.
“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he admits, his mouth trailing down my throat. “Couldn’t focus on a damn thing.”
His hands slide down my sides, gripping my hips as he flips me over. My breath catches as I find myself pressed against the mattress, his chest a warm wall against my back. His fingers tangle in my hair, gently tilting my head back.
“I want you like this,” he growls, his voice rough with need.
