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"Are you ready for me, cher?" he whispered, driving her crazy by moving his head side to side, licking both her nipples. His rough beard scratched against the tender surface of her breasts, heightening the exquisite pleasure.
"Yes. Fuck me, Aidan."
"Oh, not this time. I want you to fuck me."
In her position on top of him she had the control. She shuddered and lifted up, grasping his rigid cock in her hands and lowering herself on top of him. She hesitated, watching his look of anticipation. Then she dipped down, her outer lips covering the tip of his penis.
His devastating smile spoke of sexual pleasures she hadn't begun to experience. But she would, starting right now.
She sank down in the water, his thick shaft entering her inch by delicious inch until she sat fully on his lap. In this position he felt huge inside her and she rocked against him, sparks of pleasure shooting into her core.
Aidan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tub. "Oh, yeah, baby, I like that."
So did she. Liked it so much her entire body felt alive, every nerve and muscle captured by the magic of their connection. She lifted and slid down over him again, developing a rhythm of raising and lowering until water sloshed over the tub and all over the tile floor. The water churned like crashing waves against her body, swirling and massaging her skin.
When she slowed down so as not to spill more water, Aidan latched on to her hips and lifted her higher, then slammed her down onto his cock, seeming not to care that they were soaking the floor of the bathroom.
The deep contact drew a gasp from her and she moaned her pleasure. She threw her head back and rode him faster. Aidan pushed his hips up, fitting even more of his glorious length inside her.
Leaning forward, she palmed his face and pressed her lips against his, rewarded with his guttural moan. He captured her mouth and plunged his tongue inside. She threaded her fingers in the dark hairs of his chest, seeking and finding the flat male nipples When she brushed her thumbs over them they rose hard against her fingers. She smiled against his lips and he laughed, low and husky, then tortured her in return by driving his shaft ever deeper inside her. She whimpered against his mouth.
"Please, Aidan," she cried.
When he reached between her legs and searched through the down of hair covering her mound, she shivered.
"Is that what you're begging for, cher?"
She moaned her answer and he trailed his fingers over the sensitive outer lips of her pussy.
"Quit teasing me."
"Oh, but I love to tease you. And you like it, don't you?"
"No." His questing fingers fell short of the mark, and she knew he did it on purpose. The man knew exactly where to touch her to send her over the edge.
"Tell me what you want, Lissa."
"I need to come, Aidan."
He thrust harshly against her, her pussy contracting around him with a fury of its own.
"Yes, you do. You're tight, hot and wet."
"Make me come. Now."
His husky laugh made her pant. When his thumb caressed her clit she arched against him, sliding back and forth until she couldn't bear the pleasure any longer. His fingers slid softly against the sensitive nub, relentlessly stroking until she exploded around him, unable to stop the fireworks shooting through her.
"Fuck!" he groaned, then thrust deeply inside her, his orgasm rocketing his body against hers.
Melissa held on to him tightly, riding out her climax until she collapsed against his chest. His heart pounded madly against her, his breathing hard and heavy.
"That was nice," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.
Nice? Nice? It had been spectacular, earth shattering even. She pushed back and sat upright, lifting off him.
"Nice? Is that all it was?"
He laughed. "No, it was great. Best sex I've ever had."
Irritation boiled inside her. Then she reminded herself that this was exactly what she wanted, too. Sex without emotion. But, damn it was difficult to separate the two. She didn't need to get angry at Aidan because he was acting just as she wanted him to.
He grinned. "Now I really do need a shower--and breakfast. Sex makes me hungry."
She stood and he helped her out of the tub. She let the water out while he ran the shower, and when he was finished she stepped in. By the time she exited the shower he'd left the bathroom.
After dressing and combing her hair she walked down the hall and found him in a spacious kitchen, complete with a granite-topped center island. Decorated in shades of black and white, the kitchen boasted ample cabinet space and much more room than she'd anticipate a single man could ever use.
Then again, he'd already used up most of the available space with cooking ingredients, mixing bowls and pots and pans.
And food. A lot of food. The smell of which had her stomach panging with hunger.
"What are you fixing?" she asked as she sidled up to him. "And can I help?"
He smiled at her and shook his head. "Nope. Got it covered. And it's something special."
"Special?" She looked over the bacon, English muffins and something sitting in a milk mixture. "What's that?"
"Oysters."
She met the teasing glint in his eyes and swallowed hard, trying not to gag. "Oysters?"
He nodded. "You'll love this dish. Trust me."
Pouring a cup of coffee to get the anticipated bad taste out of her mouth, she stood back and watched Aidan fix the meal.
It was a rather intricate procedure utilizing bacon, oysters, muffins, seasoning and eggs. He glanced over and smiled at her. "This is called Eggs Pontchartrain, and I'm adding Hollandaise sauce which is poured over the top."
He whisked egg yolks in a pan over boiling water, then added lemon juice and Tabasco of all things. The man could certainly cook. And while she wasn't fond of oysters, the concoction he'd assembled smelled mouth watering.
He led her outside the French doors to a beautiful deck overlooking the lake. Cypress trees leaned over the grassy area below the deck as if thirsting for the water nearby. Funny, she hadn't noticed this lake last night, but then again it had been windy and raining and her mind had been occupied with what she was going to say to Aidan when he answered the door.
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He placed a plate in front of her. She had to admit, the presentation was gorgeous. Two muffin halves sat on the warm plate, topped with bacon and fried oysters and a poached egg. The thick Hollandaise sauce covered the top.
At her hesitance he said, "C'mon, give it a try. Trust me, you'll love it."
Not wanting to insult him after he'd gone to so much trouble, she pushed back her dislike of oysters and took a forkful into her mouth. The flavor exploded, rich and creamy with just a tang of Creole spice.
"Wow," she managed, suddenly not wanting to stop until her plate was clean.
Aidan grinned, clearly pleased at the compliment. "I'm glad you like it."
"It's incredible. And you can cook! I still can't get over that."
He arched a brow. "Why would that surprise you?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess because most single men don't cook, or if they do it's either steaks on the grill or something simple. This is an elegant feast, Aidan. I'm very impressed."
"Thanks."
If she didn't know better, she'd swear he blushed. But Aidan didn't seem the type.
"I'm surprised some woman hasn't captured you and refused to let go." She couldn't get enough of the meal, and in fact embarrassed herself by taking a second helping. Maybe sex made her hungry, too. Then again, maybe it was Aidan's cooking.
Finally she was stuffed and sat back to admire the view. "You must love living here. It's beautiful."
"It's all right," he said.
The flat tone in his voice caught her attention, and she turned to look at him. His entire demeanor had changed. The smile had left his face, replaced with a disturbing frown.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"No, not at all." He stood and cleared the dishes. She followed him in and insisted that since he'd cooked breakfast she at least be allowed to help clean up.
With great reluctance he agreed. They stood side by side and washed and dried the dishes. Melissa found herself intrigued by the comfortable domesticity of working alongside Aidan like this. It was actually rather pleasant. She could grow used to sharing breakfast with him in the mornings, especially if breakfast was preceded by a night of incredible passion.
"What's on the agenda for today?" she asked after the last copper pot had been dried and hung over the center island.
