Page 58 of That Rush

His thumb drags over the same spot, and my head falls back against the cushion.

“Then tell me what you want now.”

I look into his dark, focused eyes.

“Do it again.”

He does.

This time, his thumb moves in a slow circle, and the pressure is so precise it dissolves the clever response forming in my head. My fingers tighten around his wrist while my hips press into his hand.

“Like that?” he asks.

“You know I like it.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Of course he does. Aiden pays attention with an intensity that feels like he’s memorizing me, collecting details I haven’t even noticed about myself.

“Yes. I like it.”

“Good girl.”

The words come out low and rough, more approval than command, and a fresh wave of heat pools low in my stomach.

His mouth closes over mine as he strokes me through my underwear. Each pass becomes firmer, and every time I think I understand the rhythm, he changes it just enough to pull a different sound from me.

I slide my hand beneath his shirt. The muscles in his stomach tense under my palm.

“Take this off,” I say.

Aiden sits back and pulls his shirt over his head.

My eyes trace the broad planes of his chest, the dark hair narrowing beneath his belt, and the way he watches me, knowing exactly what I see.

“Finished?” he asks.

“No.”

I run both hands over him, then settle my palm over the thick length straining beneath his jeans. The controlled line of his mouth tightens.

“Getting difficult?”

“Worse.”

“Good.”

He catches the back of my neck and kisses me until the smugness disappears from my face.

His fingers work open the button on my shorts. He pauses with the zipper beneath his hand.

“Keep going,” I whisper.

“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

The endearment is intimate in a way the command isn’t. My body reacts to both.

I lift, and Aiden draws the zipper down before pulling my shorts and underwear along my legs. Cool air touches my bare pussy, followed by the heat of his palm sliding up the inside of my thigh.