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I smile, triumphant. “Good.” It’s not easy for me either. With me controlling the pressure and angle, every in-out slide of him is just right, and I am fighting the urge to come as much as he is.
I pick up my pace, riding him hard. And when I feel his hips buck underneath me, his movements becoming more focused, I raise my hands and squeeze my own breasts, driving my own pleasure to match his. I am watching Aiden’s face, so when he looks up and sees me fondling myself, I recognize the exact moment he loses the fight. Throwing his head back, he thrusts three times, pumping into me with short, powerful bursts.
And me…I arch my back and take the pounding, enjoying each brutal push of his cock inside of me, and, when he lets go and orgasms, my name on his lips, I smile and follow him over the edge.
Chapter 26
Aiden
It’s been fifteen minutes,but I can still feel the occasional tremor run through my body. It’s like an aftershock. Every time I think about Cat lowering her pussy to my mouth, or riding me like she owned me, it becomes too much. Too intense. And my only response is a full-body shiver that she must feel as she curls up at my side.
We are both quiet, thinking. Catherine’s head is resting in the crook where my shoulder meets my arm, her hand is curled slightly and resting on my chest. Being this close to her, lying with her, is almost as intimate for me as having sex with her. I can smell her scent and the shampoo in her hair. I can feel every inch where her impossibly soft skin brands mine and, needing as much contact as possible, I map a course up and down her bare arm with my fingertips.
“Thank you.”
I frown down, trying to see her face. “Thank you?”
“For trusting me with something that made you uncomfortable.” Lifting her gaze, she smiles at me. “It meant a lot to me.”
“Cat,” I shake my head, “you don’t have to thank me. In fact, pleasedon’t. I…I overreacted when you first told me you wanted to try something new. My imagination was a bit more extreme than what you had in mind,” I say, thinking back, “I should be thankingyou. That was the sexiest moment of my life.”
“Or,” she suggests, “we could just say that it was mutually satisfying and something we’re open to trying again. Maybe,” she tilts her head to look at me, “take a little further over time?”
“Or that,” I agree. But all I can focus on is theagain. And not because we’ll have sex again. But because she’s intending on coming back.
“Do you want to tell me about the case?”
Her question washes through my hormone-infused brain, dousing the residual lust. “We don’t have many new leads at the mome-”
“Not Lizzie’s.” Wrapping her arm around my chest, Catherine nestles in. “The one that you were looking at when I arrived.” Her voice is soft. She doesn’t meet my eyes when she adds, “The one that made you sad.”
There are so many thoughts swirling in my head. How did she read me that easily? How did she know it wasn’t Lizzie’s case? Do I tell her? Can she handle it?
“It’s bad,” she says, sensing my hesitation.
“I don’t want to burden you, Cat. My job…It’s dark and depressing.” I kiss the side of her head, trying to take any sting out of my words. Making Catherine feel rejected is the last thing I want, but she’s been through so much already and burdening her with the details of my homicide cases wouldn’t be fair. Just the secrets I know about her friends would hurt her irreparably. “I don’t want you to be hurt by it.”
But she doesn’t let it go. “I can handle it,” she insists.
My body is tense, braced for her argument. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”
But the protest doesn’t come. Instead, her green eyes bore into my soul. “You can’t do it all alone all the time. And I’m here for you—when you need to talk.”
Rising from by my side, she scurries to the edge of the bed and hops up. When she starts gathering her clothes, I push up on my elbows, frowning. There’s a lick of panic in me as I watch her prepare to leave. And, before I can think the words through, I say, “Please. Stay.”
Catherine stands, her clothes bundled in her arms. I see the mischievous smile before she asks, “Did you forget?”
“Forget?”
“Grilled cheese.”
Grilled cheese. Grilled. Cheese.“No.” Falling back on the bed, I laugh as the relief washes through me. “I didn’t forget.”
“I’m going to use your shower first.” She disappears into the en suite bathroom as I push up from the bed.
Walking over to my dresser, I open the top drawer and pull out a clean shirt. “Cat.” I knock on the door. When she replies, telling me to come in, I crack it just the smallest bit, not wanting to let in the cold air. “I’m leaving a shirt on the bed for you if you want it.”
“Thanks,” she chirps.
