Page 113 of Pretender

When I don’t protest again, he buries his head between my legs, his tongue strong, thick, and he’s practically fucking me with it and I roll my hips into it.

Jesus Christ, this is good.

He groans, and I decide to embrace what hit me before. With him, I’m comfortable. Safe. I trust that Aiden does what he likes, so he must like this.

And also … I like it.

I think I love it.

Fucking hell, I could actually let him stay there for days. The way he uses his tongue in different ways, thick and soft, hard and strong, it’s too good. And he finds exactly where I crave touch again and again, like a fucking mind reader. Heat coils in my lower belly. My skin prickles.

Oh, gosh, I didn’t know this kind of pleasure was possible.

I moan, there’s so much going on. It’s tingling into my spine and through my legs. I’m delirious, writhing under him, the sensation is building … building, and so is my voice.

“Yes, yes,” I sigh, grasping the sheets with both hands, arching off the bed until a final touch of his glorious tongue pushes me over the edge and I cry out. I buck and convulse as he continues, lapping me up, groaning and rumbling into my pussy.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, panting.

“Mmm,” he hums, kissing my lips down there and I shake off a final buzz.

I’m splayed out like a starfish on the bed.

Naked. Blissful.

I’m glad I didn’t tell him to stop. It’s a stupid old habit, worrying that the man is down there against his will. Aiden seemed like he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Hmm, where did his warm touch go?

“Aiden?” I lift my head, and he comes out of the ensuite. His erection is gone, but his cock is no less impressive. I’ve never found cocks to be very nice to look at, but this one … I want to make a sculpture of it. Frame a picture of it and put it on my nightstand.

He slides up next to me, pressing me close. His skin is warm, and I wrap around him like a naked koala.

“You’ve had me on the edge all day. Your sounds were bound to finish me off,” he says, kissing my forehead. He came? Holy shit. The thought that I can rile him up this much is intoxicating. That he’s so turned on by tasting me he loses control.

“I still want you inside me,” I say, kissing up his neck, pressing my breasts against him, moving to create friction and heat between our bodies. And there he is again—hard against my front—and I hum with approval.

But I do need to warn him.

“I’ve never come vaginally, by the way. I’m not sure if I can. So don’t make that your goal, okay?”

He brushes the hair off my forehead. “There’s no pressure, Linnea. We’re not here to perform for each other, right? Just getting to know each other’s bodies. Exploring, making each other feel good.”

No ‘you just haven’t had my penis’ or ‘let me show you how it’s done’?

Just… No pressure.

I like that. I like us.

“Good,” I say, touching a hand to his jaw and he leans into it. “Maybe one day I will, but now I want you to lose control in me.”

AIDEN

I can taste her sweetness on my lips. A flavour I’ll never tire of. The sounds, her moans, I stood no chance with that hard-on. It’s been waiting to burst for so long. Now, I’m hard as a rock again, yet … I’m uneasy. Adrenaline surges in me. My stomach churns.

Linnea is in my arms. That beautiful, radiant woman, asking for me, and I’m hesitating.

This is it. What I’ve wanted.