Page 113 of Veiled

This man has cheek muscles beyond comprehension because his smile just gets bigger, “Sweetheart, if I knew a ring was all we were waiting on, I would have solved this problem weeks ago.”

I slap his arm, “That is not what I meant, and you know it. And weeks, Aiden? We’ve only been dating for weeks!”

His voice gets really quiet, his lips and the warm breeze of his breath sending shivers through me as they gently graze my ear, “And when you wore that ring two months ago, offensively small as it was,” he says with a small scoff, “you were my wife. As you called out my name on the bathroom counter while my tongue teased your clit and tasted between your thighs, you were my wife. And when my come filled your sweet little pussy when we got home, you were my wife.” The trail of his fingers down the bare skin of my back and those filthy words have me screaming internally, all focus on his stage performance forgotten. “So, tell me fiancée, how putting my ring on your finger won’t make you my wife?”

Gods help me. How can I be expected to form words when I’m solely focused on the ache I now feel at my core and the wetness pooling between my clinched thighs since underwear lines didn’t really go with this dress.

This. Fucking. Man.

“Aiden…” Yay! It appears I remember how to speak after all.

“Shhh, Honey, the ceremony is still going. We have to give each recruit our full attention.” He smirks before turning his head to face the stage—but his hand, his right freaking hand, slowly glides up my thigh through the high slit of my dress before sliding two fingers down into my wetness.

I feel his growl vibrate through me when he realizes I’m bare. And as everyone else claps for the final recruit of the night, he leans back into my space, “Family bathroom. Second floor. Five minutes. I’ll knock four times.”

Is this reckless? Yes. Is it stupid with all of our classmates and their families around? Yes. Am I so turned on that I’ve abandoned all common sense? A big, fat, resounding, yes.

Four quick knocks rap in succession. If I had to guess, it has been five minutes on the dot since Aiden gave me directions, and I had excused myself from the table.

Fortunately, and unfortunately, my excuse for needing to go to the bathroom may have been a little too easy to believe with the near waddle I had to do the entire way to this bathroom so the proof of my arousal wasn’t sliding down my leg and glistening for all to see, thanks to my dress's high slit.

Aiden steps in the second the door unlocks, and before I get it locked again behind him, he’s hanging his jacket on the back of the door and rolling up his sleeves. His forearms flexing, tendons shifting beneath skin, and the hungry look in his eyes promising so much.

“Ace,” I start, but the word barely leaves my mouth before he steps closer, heat radiating off him in waves.

“Sweetheart,” the back of his fingers trace my hip as they head south. He claims my mouth, his other hand weaving into my hair, gently pulling it back so I’m angled exactly how he wants me. I whimper into his mouth, encouraging his hard bulge in his pants as he grinds it into my stomach. “Do you see what you’re doing to me?”

I pull for his belt and pants, still worked up from the table, but now I’m damn near desperate.

“Show me,” I beg.

I don’t have to ask twice. He spins me around so fast, I gasp, my back hitting his chest as he keeps me from falling over.

“I want you to watch how exquisite you look tonight as you take all of me,” he murmurs against my ear, his mouth tracing the line of my neck before his fingers find the hem of the slit and he’s pulling my dress up.

He gently pushes me forward, my hands meeting the sides of the sink, and my ass lifting to the perfect height in my heels for him to fuck me, just like I had the night we met.

I hear his pants hit the floor, and anticipation rushes through me. The chance of getting caught only heightens my desire. He says something to himself about being the most undeserving bastard, before wetting the head of his cock with my arousal.

“Are you ready for me, fiancée?” He asks, but I don’t get the chance to answer before his hips are moving and he’s sinking himself into me, filling me and taking my breath away.

Between the pent-up emotions of the night, his dirty mouth igniting me, and the wine with dinner, I have to press my mouth into my arm to stifle the sounds breaking free from my lips.

He pauses, but I know he isn’t all the way in yet, and I need more. Impatiently, I begin rocking myself up and down his length, his groans fueling me.

“Ana, I’ve been rock hard since the second I saw you in this dress. If you don’t give me a second, I’m going come before I can even enjoy you.” He admits with the sexiest gravel to his voice.

I pause, a sense of pride hitting me at being able to unravel him like he unravels me.

Then he’s pulling out and pushing back into me harder, his hand pressing down on my lower back for leverage, and I lean into the bend.

“God's, yes. Arch for me, Sweetheart.”

The faster he moves, the harder it is for me to muffle my moans with my arm, but getting caught would be both embarrassing and cause for discipline back at the academy. Still, as his free hand grabs my hair, pulling my face up until we’re staring each other in the eye in the mirror, I lose my ability to care.

“Watch me fuck you, Ana. You’re so fucking pretty when you take me.”

He slams into me harder, faster, hitting that perfect spot that has me reeling as the ridge of his head rubs against my inner wall.