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"Why’s that?" she taunted.
"Because it’ll be the next hole I’ll fuck."
Her eyes twinkled. "Who says it isn’t the next hole I want you to fuck?"
Jesus.
She was going to be the death of me.
I wanted to ask if she was a virgin there, even though I had no right. I wasn’t a virgin. Why should she be? It wasn’t like she was eighteen, either. Both of us were definitely adults, and I liked that she knew her pleasure. I just couldn’t help wanting to own a piece of her. A part that was solely mine.
Why was I this fucked up over her? With the only consolation being that she was as in over her head as I was?
It had been like that from the start, I knew. It was why I’d gotten to my feet that night when we’d dined together and I hadn’t looked back.
I’d just gone.
I’d walked out of her life.
I’d known that one taste was enough to make me crave her for the rest of mine.
She was worse than heroin.
Better than Oxy.
Somehow, even before I’d had her, I’d known that.
Grunting at myself, I started stripping the second she turned off the water. Only then did I head over to the stall and enter it.
She pouted at me. "Why didn’t you come in earlier? I mean, I’d even waste water for you."
Her gaze slid over me, and I felt it like a caress. Like a physical touch that I wanted on me for the rest of my fucking life. Then, of course, I saw her take in the damage to my knee.
She sucked in a sharp breath as she studied the long line that was marked with stitches down the center of it, as much as if a centipede was etched into the flesh, as well as the various other tissue that made a roadmap look neat and tidy from the bullets and the various scars they’d created.
"That’s why," I said flatly. "As much as I want to fuck you in here, if I fall and fuck it up much more—"
As my words waned, she blanched. I braced myself for it, for the second that pity would slide into her gaze, but it didn’t come.
I should have known she wouldn’t respond like a regular person.
Instead, another smile danced on her lips, beaming into existence and filling up an empty space in my soul as she declared, "That’s why benches exist. "
"You’re right," I rumbled, carefully stepping nearer to her.
Hauling her into my arms, I grabbed her ass, squeezed those tight cheeks and dipped my head to press a kiss to her lips. The bottom one was still pink and red from where I’d bitten her, and the sight should have filled me with shame, but it just didn’t.
I wanted those bite marks all over her. Stamps of ownership so that any fucker outside these walls, hell, within them too, would know she was—
My mind stuttered to a halt.
I had no right to think shit like that, but fuck if I didn’t have a say in it. If my mind already knew what she was to me even if I couldn’t admit it.
"Aidan?"
I blinked at her soft whisper, the softest I’d ever really heard her get. "Yes?"
"Did you make him suffer?" She licked her lips. "I mean,reallysuffer."
