Page 122 of Pretender

I sob and cover my eyes with my hands, the tears streaming down the side of my face and onto the bed. Aiden removes himself from inside me but he’s quickly back again with his arms around me. Just holding me, brushing my hair off my forehead, kissing my neck.

I turn in his arms and kiss him softly. I don’t have words. Just a lot of feelings. Too many feelings.

“I love your orgasm face too,” Aiden says, tracing a finger down my jaw, and I laugh, but it’s also a bit of a sob. Aiden grins at me, which makes it even worse. Or better. He’s so fucking beautiful my heart hurts.

We lie like that for a while. My body flush to his, my head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, one of his arms snug around my hip. He caresses circles on the hand I’m using to grope his abnormally delicious pecs.

This is what it’s meant to be like.

I never had this with Henry. Not a single moment was this good with him. But I’m not lingering on those thoughts anymore. I don’t have space for them. In fact, there are no regrets anymore because it all brought me here. To Aiden.

Aiden, who’s liked me since the start, even if he didn’t realise. Maybe we have that in common. Maybe that’s why I kept pushing him away. Although I’ll never know for sure. My memories of Aiden are rose-tinted by my feelings for him today. And fuck, I feel a lot for this man.

My man.

My Aiden.

A soft kiss against my temple is what wakes me up. The Friday morning sun streams through the window. My body’s limp and sore in all the right places after another week of dreamy sex and dreamy everything. Lack of sleep is an issue, but it’s for the very best of reasons.

“Linnea,” Aiden whispers, stroking a hand from my neck, down my arm, my naked waist, and hip. He’s hard behind me and I moan as he lines his warm, hard cock up against my arse. I arch back against him. My eyes are still closed, but my clit is on fire and I need him to touch me.

“Mmm,” is all I manage. His hand moves over my hip bone and he lets out the sexiest sound as his fingers make contact with my wet pussy. I move my knee up to give him more space. Wordlessly, we grind against each other, and I try to line him up with my entrance. Hinting at him to fuck me like this. I’m a very horny little spoon, and he’s a fucking hard, massive spoon. It turns me on so much I’m about to combust under his hand.

He disappears for a moment but I hear the familiar crinkling of a condom wrapper and, still in my semi-sleepy but one hundred per cent aroused state, I wait. Warm and contented. Then he’s back, the heat of his body against mine, and he grabs my leg to angle me. I arch back and guide with a hand, and he eases in. Letting me stretch to accommodate him. He rolls his hips, filling me up with a sexy growl that vibrates in his chest. He plays with my swollen clit, and I lean my head back to feel even more of him.

“Talk to me,” I say. “I love your voice in my ear.”

With his warm skin against my back, his hand working my front, and his cock deep inside me, the heat builds. It’s magical. All of this. My nerve endings are vibrating with pleasure, and I’m ready to burst.

He leans in, close to my ear, his breath tickling my cheek.

“You’re extraordinary, Linnea. I want to wake up like this every morning. Want to feel your tight, wet pussy around my cock just like this.”

“Yes. More.”

He groans, rolling his hips. “The sounds you make for me,” he says, his voice strained now, and I moan in response. “Yeah, just like that. You drive me wild.”

The sound of his voice in my ear and the rumble through his chest that’s pressed against me push me closer.

“So good,” I breathe.

“You feel fucking sensational,” he murmurs into my neck. When he nibbles at my shoulder with another groan, it takes me over the edge. Pleasure radiates through me, and I clench around his thick cock, riding an orgasm that crashes over me in waves as Aiden grasps my hip and drives his cock deep into me, faster and harder, until he loses control.

I moan with each thrust he delivers, filling me to the brim. And by the end, I’m reduced to a quivering, panting mess. A satisfied mess.

We shower together, and have sex again, this time he fucks me from behind with the shower head on my front. He takes me hard on my demand, slapping loudly against my arse. I cry out, not holding anything back.

We’re thoroughly late for work and I look … well, I look fucked. But honestly, I couldn’t care less. I feel amazing. My vagina is deliciously sore, my clit’s still tingling, and I think I might be high. A happy-hormone high from an overdose of orgasms.

Aiden’s made me a coffee and we sit at the kitchen island, smiling at each other.

“Let’s eat before we go,” he says. “My chef has left us food.”

“When was your chef here?”

“She usually comes in around 6 a.m. and cooks up for the day.”

I swallow a large gulp of coffee and cough.