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“What?”
My question brings a smile to his face. And he surprises me again by saying, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
I don’t hesitate. In my desperation, in my race to be touched, I unzip my jeans and fling them to the side. When he still doesn’t move, just watches me with a hungry expression, I slide my lace underwear off and unsnap my bra so that I am completely naked, scars and all.
“Aiden.” My voice comes out a desperate whimper as he watches me. His hungry gaze lights a flame on my skin and an ache between my legs. “Please. I need…”You. I was going to say, ‘I needyou’. For some reason, my brain knows the admission is dangerous. “I need to be fucked.”
He flinches. It’s small. Had I not been fixated on his face, I would have missed it entirely.
I should feel guilty. But I am completely naked. He is still sitting on the bed in his slacks and unbuttoned shirt. It doesn’t matter that I can see his erection beneath his boxers. I want him naked too. I want him inside of me like I have never wanted before. And I don’t experience this, this burning need that is threatening to take me under.Ever.
He stands, towering over me. His unzipped slacks stay up as he takes my hand and leads me to the chair in the corner of the room. To say that I’m surprised when he sits down again is an understatement. Experience has me preparing to bend over it.
Holding out a hand for me, he says, “Come here.”
And I do, my wobbly legs be damned for betraying me.
I stop just in front of him.
“No.” He gently grabs my arm and turns me so that my back is to him, and then he pulls me backward so that I’m sitting in his lap again, naked this time. “Here.”
A full-body tremor runs over me, and I grip the arms of the chair, steeling myself against the sensation. His bare chest is hard against my back. I can feel his penis, long and thick, straining beneath my right buttcheck.
He kisses the side of my neck, his mouth gentle as his hands move my hair over one shoulder and begin to work over my body, first running up my sides almost as if he is easing me into being touched, then down my front, stopping just past my belly button. My breath is ragged, coming in small, sharp pants that sound like a broken sob. Everywhere that he touches leaves a trail of sensation.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in my ear. Hooking one of his hands under each of my legs, he strings them over the sides of the chair, so that I am completely open,exposedto the room.
My blood is hot with greed. My pussy is throbbing with the need to be touched. But Aiden doesn’t relieve me.
His big hands find my breasts and all I can manage is a mewl of pleasure as I arch my back, pressing myself further into his palms as he kneads and presses.
“I’m going to take my time with you, Cat. The things I’m going to do with you…You’re going to remember.” Taking my nipples in his fingers, he rolls them gently. “We both are.”
My legs fall open wider, wantonly, my body taking over where my mind can’t seem to formulate a reply. I am lying in his lap, my back to his chest, my chest rising and falling with the effort of breathing through the pleasure.
“Tell me where you want me.”
I don’t hesitate. I don’t reply either. Taking his right hand from my breast, I drag it down, showing him where to touch.
Aiden runs a single finger between my seam, his groan of pleasure when he finds how wet I am sounding almost painful. “Hell” is all he can manage before he anchors me, and, holding my left hip with his left hand, he uses his right to torture me.
The fabric of his shirt sleeve rubs erotically over my nipple as he reaches over me. His fingers spread me, opening me so that he can circle my clit with his index and middle finger. I can’t help but watch as his big hand hovers over me, blocking my view of what his fingers are doing. It is more erotic that way; while I can’t see, every circular motion he makes coils me closer and closer, higher and higher.
“What feels good?” he asks, and I want to cry. Can’t he tell? Can’t he see that I’m moments away from losing everything?
“Don’t stop,” is all I manage. And in case that’s not enough of an order, I gyrate my hips slightly, riding his hand.
Aiden takes my cue. Easing forward, he inserts one finger inside of me. I cry out, no longer able to containmy screaming desire. He slides his finger in and out, each thrust long and slow, in sync with the needs of my body. When I feel the small waves of pleasure start to peak, I pick up my pace. My hips grind faster. My pants for air become louder. Aiden, feeling my peaking pleasure, matches my pace, so that we’re both sitting in the chair, me on his lap with my legs spread, Aiden with one hand between them, our movements perfectly in sync.
Raising my right arm, I reach back and grip his neck, pulling his mouth down to mine as the first orgasm rips through me. I take his mouth and arch my back, a bow, strung, as the waves of pleasure decimate me. My heart thuds in my chest. Small ripples of satisfaction course through me as he slows his strokes, letting me ride out the feeling.
My heart is pounding so fast it feels trapped by my ribs, with nowhere to go. My breath is ragged, almost pained. Lingering shudders pass through me.
Slowly, my sex-frenzied mind begins to clear. I become more aware of everything. The feeling of his strong arms around me and his breath on my neck, the languid laxness in my muscles, the wet patch, cooling on his leg beneath me.
The moment, the sheer force of us, is too much to bear. When the first tear falls on my chest, all I can do is mutely watch it trail a path down my scar. When the second falls, I reach up shaky hands and swipe at my face, frustrated with myself.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. I’m supposed to be overjoyed and sated, not ready to turn on his lap and ride him until he loses himself inside of me. Where I was so sure before, now, I realize that I don’t know the game I’m playing.
