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As if I could. I kissed him to cut off any other warnings. I didn’t want common sense right now. I wanted him.
Aiden’s hands tightened at my waist, then reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in one swift motion. It was warm in his apartment, the balmy evening air floating in through his open balcony door. Still, my skin prickled under his gaze, and my nipples tightened up into hard nubs.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” I whispered, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. I couldn’t wait to feel his skin against mine.
Aiden gripped the hem and yanked it off as quickly as he had mine. I took a moment to admire the sight of his bare chest again. His muscles were sleek and well defined, his shoulders broad, his waist tapered. He was a man, and now I realized I’d only ever been with overgrown boys. I couldn’t wait to touch him. Explore him. Make him mine.
I took my time doing so, running my hands around his hard torso, tracing a particular scar that cut across his shoulder. I knew he’d grown up in a bad part of town, but that was the extent of it. “What happened?” I whispered. As much as I wanted every part of his body, I wanted his stories even more.
“Broken bottle,” he muttered absently, as if it was nothing. “When I was sixteen. Street fight.”
I pressed my lips to it. I tried to picture it. Aiden, younger and wilder. Just as tall, but without the heft of muscle. Had he gone to the hospital or tried to sew it up himself? If I had to guess, it was the latter. Maybe my imagination was running away with me like it did so often when it came to him, but right now I felt so close to Aiden that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was seeing his memories. Reading his thoughts.
And I think it made him uncomfortable. This was an intimacy he wasn’t ready for.
Aiden’s hands had been stroking my back, now they stopped at the clasp of my bra. Now his eyes held the question. I nodded, and he tugged it free. Bare from the waist up, I pushed my hair back so he could see all of me.
His gaze heated. Past wounds were forgotten.
“You’re too good for me, Layla.”
“Don’t say that.”
Aiden ran his hands up and down my body and filled them with my breasts. I arched my back when he rolled my nipples between his fingers and a jolt of lust hit me right at the apex of my thighs. It felt like I was literally melting, my insides pooling into my panties. I reached for the zipper of his pants with shaking fingers. I wanted him inside me so badly that I could hardly stand it.
He was hard and ready as his pants fell from his waist. Then he pushed down his boxers and stood before me, naked and gorgeous as ever.
“My turn,” Aiden whispered as he reached for the top button of my jeans. There were two more after that. His fingers grazed my mound as he undid each one, and I got wetter and wetter. They slipped off my hips, and I stepped out of them, standing before him in just my red panties.
He backed me up until I was braced against the wall, then slipped his hand down between the fabric and my skin and parted my slippery folds with one finger.
“Yes,” I groaned, pushing against his hand. He was going exquisitely, painfully slowly like he could wait for his own satisfaction for hours. I gripped his shoulders and leaned my head back against the door as he moved his fingers in and out. The tension was building inside of me, increasing as he began to rub my clit in small circles. I didn’t know if it had gotten darker in the room or if my eyes were closed. All I could hear was our rapid breathing, all I could feel was the pleasure he was giving me.
I went over the edge with a violent shudder and a moan so loud I thought they could hear me down on the street. Then I would have collapsed if he hadn’t been there, holding me in place.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going now,” I managed to joke when I could speak again.
“Only if you want to kill me.”
“I don’t,” I said seriously. “I want to keep you.” I almost softened the sentiment by adding the wordaround, but I found that I couldn’t. I was incapable of playing it cool right now. I’d just had the most intense orgasm of my life, and it was like a truth serum. I wanted to keep Aiden Cross, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.
Our gazes locked for a long moment, then Aiden picked me up like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his waist and found his mouth again, loving the way I was learning his body with mine. He was so strong–I couldn’t imagine how he could be afraid of anything.
Aiden carried me until his knees hit the edge of his bed and he fell forward onto it, covering my body with his. His mouth was on mine before I could get my bearings. I kissed him back with all the passion that was building back up in my body. I reached down between our bodies and gripped the root of his rock-hard cock with my hands and guided it toward my opening.
Our eyes locked in the darkness. His dark blue eyes were still conflicted, as if he still thought that, even now, he might be able to stop himself.
I pushed up against him, willing him to trust himself to me. To forget all the things that stood between us. When Aiden finally pushed himself into me, I felt a hundred different nerve endings come to life for the first time. The groans that tore from my throat as he pushed deeper and deeper didn’t even sound like me. They were animalistic, inhuman, but there was no room for embarrassment. Mindless pleasure was burning through every part of my body.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to meet him thrust for thrust, but he was pushing into me so forcefully that all I could do was hold on as the pleasure built and built again. His lips found mine in the dark, and the thrusts of his tongue matched his hips.
“Aiden,” I begged, but I didn’t know what I was begging for. All I could say was his name, and then scream it as I went over the edge again. He pounded into me, and I lost all track of time. Then a guttural noise ripped from his throat, and I felt a shudder rock through his entire body as he collapsed onto me.
I stroked his sweat-dampened neck, running my hands down his back and then up to rub his head. His hair felt like cat fur beneath my fingers–the only soft thing about him. I could feel his heart slamming against his chest, all the way into mine. I could feel every pulse point of my own, too, like my blood was vibrating in my veins.
I stared up at the ceiling in wonder as his breath slowed. After all the time I’d spent fantasizing about this moment, it should have disappointed me. Instead, it blew even my best fantasy out of the water. It was hard to breathe with his weight fully pressed down on me, but I didn’t want him to move. Not yet. I’d waited too long.
But he must have known because too soon, he pushed his weight up onto his elbows and looked down at me.
