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QUINTON
The wine has definitely loosened her up a bit. I can tell because no way would she have agreed to stay if she was sober. Ren gives me a strange look from across the table but keeps his mouth shut. I don’t want or need his judgment.
I shove away from the table, leaving him to clean up the mess. Aspen and I walk to my room side by side. The last two weeks have shed a new light on my relationship with Aspen. I don’t hate her, and in fact, I don’t think I ever did, but I need her, and that terrifies me.
Needing her when I’ve needed no one is not something a man like me, who was born into the mafia, trained to kill, and will eventually overtake the Rossi empire, should feel. To need someone is a weakness I can’t afford to show or have, and because of Aspen, I am weak.
I open the door, and we both step inside. I can feel the tension between us—it’s thick and suffocating. We haven’t done anything in two weeks, and I crave her like a man starving for oxygen.
I flick the light switch on and shut the door behind us. Aspen cranes her neck back and stares up at me. Her big hazel eyes appear glassy, and I’m reminded of how much wine she had.
I want to make sure she understands that even though I want to fuck her, I didn’t intend to actually do so. Then again, maybe I did since I invited her back to my room.
“I didn’t invite you here tonight intending to get laid.”
“I’m sure you say the same to every girl.” Her mischievous grin is contagious, and when she reaches for the hem of her shirt, I know she’s decided.
She wants me in the same way I want her, and I’m not going to deny giving us both what we want. Not now, not ever. Reaching over my head, I grab the back of my T-shirt and pull it off, tossing it to the floor. We’re both shirtless except for the bra she’s wearing, which will be removed shortly. I move onto my pants, flicking the button on my jeans and pushing them down my thighs.
Aspen does the same, shoving her yoga pants down and breaking out into laughter when they get caught on her ankles and feet. Balancing from foot to foot, she falls back on my bed and tries kicking them off, but her efforts are short-lived, and I step in, grabbing her by the foot and tugging the material away.
With the material out of the way, she’s lying on the bed, partially naked, her body beneath mine. I have this strange urge to taste every inch of her, to memorize her body, to ingrain the way she tastes into my mind because I know someday we won’t be able to do this anymore. But while we can, I want to enjoy every fucking second.
Half sitting up, half lying back, she reaches behind and undoes her bra. The straps slip off her shoulders, and when she tugs them away, I’m graced with the sight of her perfect tits. Her hard nipples are a dusky pink, the tips hard like diamonds and ready to be sucked. There is no denying I am a tits man, and Aspen has an incredible rack.
Leaning down, I blow softly against the hardened peaks, listening to the heavy intake of breath from Aspen. I smile and flick my tongue against the peak again, enjoying the sharp intakes of breath she rewards me with. She’s so turned on, I bet by the time I make it to her pussy, she’ll have my sheets soaked.
Finally giving in to temptation, I suck one of her nipples into my mouth and swirl my tongue against it. I alternate between sucking and nipping at the tight bud, knowing that, like me, Aspen enjoys a little pain with her pleasure. She writhes beneath me, and one of her hands reaches out to spear through my hair, her hand holding my head against her breast. I stare up at her, watching her face fill with bliss as I move to her other tit, giving it the same amount of attention. My cock is painfully hard and strains against my boxers, begging to be free.
I release her breast with a pop that reverberates through the room.
My gaze rakes down her body, and I lick my lips. So soft and perfect. There isn’t a single blemish on her skin. It’s creamy white, and she lies before me like a clean canvas. I want to dirty her up. I want to devour her in ways that shouldn’t even cross my mind.
“Do your worst, Quinton,” she whispers, just as my gaze reconnects with hers. Lust and need swim in her hazel eyes.
“You have no fucking clue what you’re asking for,” I say through my teeth, her words turning me on further, damn near to the point of pain.
With the flames of desire igniting, I reach for her. My hands splay across her hips, and I dip my fingers into the waistband of her panties. She lifts her hips, and I tug them down her legs, my eyes following the movement. It’s been weeks, and I’m barely hanging on as it is.
No point in further tempting myself. I pull back and shove my boxers down my legs.
“Roll over, I want you on your hands and knees.” The sound of my voice is hard.
Aspen doesn’t argue, which is surprising. She does exactly as I ask, pressing her face to the mattress while pushing out her perfect ass. The creamy globes beg to be spanked and turned a soft pink, but that will have to wait. I need to fuck her tight cunt before I explode and blow my load all over her ass.
“Hold on to the sheets, and if you have to scream, do it into the mattress,” I growl and grab her by the hips.
A squeak slips from her lips when the head of my cock presses against her entrance.
“Shit, go slow. It’s been a while,” she whispers, her voice so low I almost miss it.
I ease back a bit and replace the head of my cock with two fingers to test her wetness. The stiffness I noticed before leaves her body, and she pushes back against my fingers as I gently fuck her with them.
“Fuck yourself on my hand, get your pussy nice and wet for my cock.”
She pushes back on my hand, and my fingers move deeper inside of her.Fuck.I watch as the digits disappear into her tight channel. Seeking an impending orgasm, she moves faster, tiny moans escaping her lips, the sound going straight to my cock.
“Fuck,” she whispers harshly.
