We barely speak on the walk back to my loft, but Aston’s hand is locked around mine, his fingers interlaced with my gloved hand. His grip is tight like he’s afraid I’ll bolt, and he wants to keep me from running away.
When we reach my building, he pulls me back against the brick wall next to the door. Before I can even draw a breath, his mouth comes down on mine.
It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s rough, desperate, and thick with the lingering taste of winter air and the raw adrenaline of our argument. His hands come up and cup my face, as his lips part mine with demanding pressure.
My hands move up his chest and grip the neck of his hoodie, pulling him in closer until his chest is pinning me up against the brick wall. He kisses me like he’s trying to reclaim every single inch of me he’d given up over the weekend, his tongue sliding against mine in a deep, dirty rhythm that has my knees instantly going weak.
“Upstairs,” he mutters against my lips, his breath ragged as he pulls back. “Now, Eva.”
I don’t answer. I just unlock and open the door, tugging him through the doorway. He scoops up my bag, and we climb up the stairs, our shoes clapping loudly against the concrete stairs.
When we get to my door, I turn and insert my key and push it open with enough force that it hits the brick wall inside, then toss my keys on the counter
Aston pushes me into the loft, his hand gripping my hip. Then he drops my bag as I shed my coat. He catches me by the waist, lifting me off my feet until I wrap my legs around his hips, his mouth crashing back down onto mine with animalistic hunger.
We stumble against the kitchen island, the keys I’d just tossed there, dropping to the floor. He sets me on the edge of the counter, his hands immediately tearing at the buttons of my shirt, he licks up my neck to my jaw as he rips the fabric off my shoulders. Then removes my bra with one hand.
“Aston,” I gasp, my hands finding the hem of his hoodie and lifting until he takes over, reaches behind his neck and pulls it off in one swift move.
His mouth finds my skin again, sucking and licking, until his teeth bite gently into the sensitive skin above my collarbone.
“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice gravelly against my skin. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
I look down at him through the haze of my desire as he removes his T-shirt, exposing the beautiful canvas of his chest and shoulders. He’s truly magnificent.
He doesn’t wait. He moves his hands to the button on my jeans, pops it open, pulls down my zipper, and I lift my hips so he can remove them from my legs. He takes my underwear down with them, and my ass hits the gold stone of the island.
His hands slide up my inner thighs, and the heat of his touch is like an electric shock against my cold skin. He leans forward, his mouth seeking mine again in a deep, sloppy kiss, his tongue driving into my mouth while his fingers meet my already wet center, and I spread my legs wider for him.
I let out a cry against his lips, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Aston, please.”
“Look at me, Eva,” he pants against my skin. “Tell me I didn’t lose you.”
“You didn’t lose me,” I whisper, my hands moving down his neck, my fingers digging into the thick muscles of his shoulders. “But you’re going to make it up to me right now.”
“Damn right I am,” he smirks, but his eyes turn dark. “I’ve been going crazy thinking about you. I thought I lost you. Ruined the best thing I’ve ever had. And now I’m going to show you how sorry I am. I’m going to worship you until you can’tcatch your breath. Until you know you’re the only thing that matters to me.”
“Aston …” I groan against his lips as he lifts me off the counter and carries me into my bedroom.
He lays me on the bed, covering his body with mine, our lips never leaving each other as we fall. But then he pulls away abruptly.
"Come sit on my face, Honeybee," he commands, rolling onto his back.
I don't hesitate to straddle his face and grab on to the headboard.
He holds on to the back of my thighs and squeezes hard enough to leave bruises.
"Goddamn, Eva. Your pussy is soaked for me. I know you want my cock, but I need to taste this pretty pussy first." He swipes his tongue through my wetness. "Now ride. And don't you fucking dare stop," he says against my skin, sliding two fingers inside me, stretching me while his tongue wrecks me in a filthy and frantic rhythm. "Paint my face with your cum, Eva. Let me feel you lose control and soak me. Drown me in your honey.”
His tongue moves against me in long strokes from my opening to my clit.
“Fuck Eva, you taste so good,” he says, his voice muffled as he swirls his tongue over my clit. “So fucking sweet.”
He drives me higher, using his mouth with brutal precision, and his fingers hit that spot inside that makes my head spin.
“Aston, it’s too much. I’m going to?—”
“No! Don’t you dare stop,” he mutters, his fingers and tongue continuing their delicious torture on my pussy.
