Chapter Twenty-Nine
My kiss is tentative. Experimental.
It’s the first time I initiate a kiss. The first time I kiss Aiden without him basically forcing it on me.
At first, it’s a slight press of my lips against his firm ones. Then, my tongue darts out and I lick his bottom lip over and over. Gaining more boldness, I pull myself up and slightly nibble on it before trailing soft kisses on the corner of his mouth.
The whole time, Aiden watches me with hooded eyes. Both his arms are taut as he leans his hands on the bed.
He’s not touching me.
My bold phase shrinks a little. Maybe he changed his mind, maybe —
“Fuck this,” Aiden groans as his lips crash to mine.
His kiss is the complete opposite of my gentle ones. Aiden kisses like a madman searching for his sanity. It’s always out of control. My breathing ceases when he thrusts his tongue inside my mouth and devours me.
That’s what Aiden does. He devours. He shreds me apart and strips me bare until he owns every part of me.
Now that he’s taking charge, I feel like I can… let go.
Let go.
What a weird sensation.
I was never tempted to let go before. If anything, I did everything by the rules so I wouldn’t have to let go.
Aiden’s body is all over me. His legs barge between my trembling thighs. His chest flattens my aching breasts. His hands are all over my hair, my cheeks, my face.
He’s all over me.
His raw intensity seeps under my skin and shoots straight into my veins. It’s contagious.
He’s contagious.
Aiden wrenches his mouth from mine, and we both pant, breathing each other in.
I’m caught in his stormy gaze.
Since the beginning, he’s always looked at me differently like we’re connected.
Like he knows me better than anyone else.
And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to know him better than anyone, too.
He breaks eye contact to fling my pyjamas’ top over my head. The cloth rubs against my hard, sensitive nipples, sending a chill of pleasure between my legs.
He palms one breast with a rough hand and grunts. “Did I tell you how much I love these?”
His fiery gaze never leaves mine as he sucks a nipple into his mouth and pulls at it with his teeth. He doesn’t bite, but the threat is there.
My eyes droop and a moan spills from my throat.
Still teasing with his teeth, he pinches the other nipple. His stormy eyes stay transfixed on me as if he’s challenging — or taunting me.
My fingers slide to his hair and I pull on the jet black strands. I don’t know if it’s to push or pull him.
And I don’t get to decide.
Aiden wraps a firm hand around my throat and bites down on my nipple so hard, pain shoots across my spine and pleasure pools in my core. His tongue laps around it, soothing the ache before he does it again. I cry out, my back arching.
I can’t move much because he’s imprisoning me by his grip on my throat.
It’s like falling down a cliff. There should be nothing pleasing about that because when I hit the bottom, I’ll be dead. But right now? I don’t think about the landing. I’m suspended in the act of falling. Beyond fear and self-imposed shackles, there’s a thrill, excitement. The… unknown.
I’m becoming addicted to it.
Still biting down on my nipple, Aiden reaches the other hand to yank down my pyjamas’ shorts. His fingers find my slick folds and he groans as he teases his way down.
My body feels like it’s been lit on fire while still falling down that cliff. A thousand goosebumps cover my skin and seep into my bones.
“Aiden…”
He lifts his head. Lust and something else I can’t put my finger on contort his face.
My fingers curl into his T-shirt and I attempt to pull it over his head. He clutches my fingers over his T-shirt, stopping me. Something crosses his handsome features. It’s fast, and maybe if I weren’t so much under his spell, I would’ve figured out its meaning.
The expression vanishes as fast as it came, and he yanks his T-shirt over his head.
He’s an athlete so the six-packs shouldn’t be a surprise, but the perfect proportions are a bit unfair. It’s like he’s shooting for a magazine.
Now that he’s bending his arms, the arrow tattoos seem to be pointing straight at his heart.
Or mine.
When my gaze slides back to his, he’s watching me with a hard expression like he’s waiting for me to pounce.
I have no doubt that if I do fight, he’ll fight back.
Depending on my choice, he’ll make it as ugly or as pretty as he deems necessary.
A queen or a pawn.
My fingers trace up his hard sides and to his taut stomach. I don’t know when touching him has become an addiction.
A pleasure.
A necessity.
What would it feel like to engrave myself under his skin?
That’s… a scary thought.
Aiden yanks down his trousers along with his boxer briefs.