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Happiness he’d helped put there.
This isn’t forever. This is just a reprieve in the midst of a storm.
He didn’t care. He’d take it.
Aaron laid her on the bed and nudged her back until he could kneel between her thighs. The picture she painted, from her wild blue hair to her smirking lips to her rocking body... It just flat out did it for him. She just flat out did it for him. He traced the rose tattoo just inside her hipbone. “Why this?”
“A reminder.” She didn’t say more, but she didn’t have to. He understood. Roses were gorgeous flowers, but their thorns were legendary. Kind of like Becka.
He pulled off her pants and underwear and tossed them aside, leaving her gloriously naked before him. “Where did you learn to play poker?” He cupped her pussy, spearing two fingers into her. “You’re good.”
“Bitter you lost?” She arched her back and dug her heels into the bed, trying to drive his fingers deeper, but he used his free hand to pin her hips into place. Becka fisted the sheets above her head and cursed. “I learned to play free-roll poker in high school. It’s how I made extra money after I graduated.”
He could see it. All she’d have to do was smile and giggle a little and men would be falling over themselves to “teach” her how to play. Then she’d clean up and walk away while they were still wondering what the hell had happened. “Tricky.”
“Tactical. Thought you’d approve.”
He twisted his wrist and teased her clit with his thumb. “I do. I’m going to demand a rematch, though.”
Becka writhed in his grip. She grabbed his wrists and met his gaze. “Stop teasing me and let me come, Aaron. I’ve been aching for it ever since I had your cock in my mouth.” She smiled slowly, as if she knew exactly where his thoughts had gone—to seeing himself disappear between those bright lips. She affected a pleading look. “Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He moved, dragging her around until he leaned against the headboard and Becka was sprawled between his legs, her head at his feet. Aaron lifted her hips so he could play with her at his leisure. The blow job had barely taken the edge off for him, and the entire night stretched out before them. A promise of as much pleasure as she could handle and more. He parted her and traced her opening with a single finger, not penetrating her. Teasing.
“Aaron.”
“That’s right, minx. You keep saying my name like that and I might consider giving you my cock again before the end of the night.”
CHAPTER TEN
BECKA’S ENTIRE EXISTENCE narrowed down to Aaron’s fingers between her thighs. He teased her, doling out pleasure in waves and then drawing her back from the edge at the last possible second. She held out for longer than she could have thought possible, but then the words came. “Please, Aaron, please let me come. I need you, just please, please, please.”
“There it is.” He growled and withdrew his hands.
She barely had the space of a breath to whimper in protest when he wedged his hands beneath her ass and lifted her to his mouth. This time, he didn’t mess around. After a thorough kiss that curled her toes so hard they cramped, he sucked her clit into his mouth and worked her ruthlessly. She dug her nails into her palms as she came, his name on her lips in a cry that seemed to shake the walls.
At least, it shook the walls surrounding her heart.
Aaron didn’t give her a chance to recover. He set her back on the bed and then he was inside her, stretching her, filling her. The slow slide of his cock and the delicious friction it caused brought her back to herself heartbeat by heartbeat, and she became aware of his murmuring in her ear. “Beautiful minx. You’re so fucking perfect and it makes me so damn crazy I can’t think past my need for you.” He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw and then claimed her mouth.
His need called hers to the fore, and she locked her ankles at the small of his back and laced her fingers through his hair, rising up to meet him even as she met his tongue stroke for stroke. I can’t think past my need for you, either. It scares the shit out of me, and I don’t know what to do with that. He ate the words before she had a chance to give them voice, which was just as well.
She wished she could blame the sex or orgasms for the way her inner compass had failed her so spectacularly, but neither of them were the problem.
It was all Becka.
Aaron hooked a hand beneath one of her thighs and hitched it higher, allowing him deeper. The contact tore a cry from her lips, and the building pleasure reached a crescendo she couldn’t have fought off if she tried. She clung to him as his strokes became less measured and he followed her over the edge, kissing her as if his next breath lay in her lungs.
