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“Thank you, Aiken.”
He stroked my cheek and kissed me once more. “I’ll always be here for you.”
We held hands like an actual couple on the walk back to the car. I didn’t know what it was we were doing, but I didn’t care as long as it continued.
Once we were in the car, we didn’t pull away for a few minutes. I sat there, taking in the moment with Aiken at my side. He didn’t rush me. Instead, he sat behind the steering wheel quietly, knowing without me saying it that I needed a minute to gather myself before we started home.
I fell asleep an hour into our drive, only waking for food and pit stops. We ended our day on the road at a hotel in Flagstaff, Arizona.
As soon as we walked into the room, I dropped my bag to the floor and moved into Aiken, gathering his cheeks in my palms and pulling his face down for a kiss.
He didn’t pull back, somehow knowing I needed him to take it all away. I pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor at our feet, and then I ran my nails down his chest. He hissed, loving the sting of my nails, and then he turned us, pushing me against the wall and taking control the way I liked.
He kissed me hard and deep, losing his hands beneath my shirt. “Are you sure,” he muttered against my lips.
“Yes. Don’t hold back.”
And he didn’t.
He pulled my top over my head and almost ripped my bra from my body. When he captured my nipple between his lips, I tugged at his hair and begged him for more. His mouth was magic—his hands sweet torture—and when he used both on me, I forgot about everything, which was exactly what I wanted.
To forget.
I worked on his belt, pulling it loose and dropping it to the floor at our feet before I started on his button and zipper. Once his jeans were loose enough, I stuck my hand down inside them and wrapped it around his hard length.
“Fuck,” he growled, pressing his forehead to mine.
I jerked him off, working him with my fist as if I had done it a thousand times before. He pushed his jeans down over his hips, kicking his boots off before he was able to step out of them.
“Yeah, baby,” he moaned. “Fuck, your hands feel good on my body.”
I sucked at his neck, tasting him while working him over, and his fingers brushed my stomach as he unbuttoned my jeans and shoved them down. I kicked my sandals off and used my feet to push my jeans from my ankles.
He lifted me, pulling my hands from his length, and trapping me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around him just as he lined himself up and pushed into me hard and fast.
I gasped, loving the feel of being full of him, but still feeling a bit sore from the night before.
As I asked, he didn’t hold back. He slammed into me so hard, my back slapped against the wall. It was nothing like our first time together. It was rough and raw—desperate and wild—walking along the edge of painful.
My body climbed, the pleasure intensifying with each thrust.
“Yes. Fuck me, Aiken,” I begged, using words I rarely said. “So hard. So deep, baby.”
He growled, pulling from my body, and dropping me to my feet. Moving to the table, he spun me, bending me over it. The table was cold against my face and breasts. He lifted my leg, putting my knee up onto the table, and then he entered me from behind, going deeper than he had before.
“Oh God,” I called out, reaching behind me and latching onto his ass.
“You want it rough, Cherry Girl,” he asked, digging his hand into my hair and pulling back, making my body arch for him.
“Yes,” I whimpered.
He didn’t hold back, working my body hard and fast. He tugged on my hair, kissing and biting my neck and shoulder, occasionally slapping my ass, leaving behind a sting from his palm.
Sounds sprang from my lips. I tried to hold them back, covering my mouth to quiet myself, but there was no use, the things he was doing to me pushed me into a state of delirium.
“Don’t stop. I’m going to come,” I announced, my body dancing along the edge of an explosion.
His fingers dug into my hips, and the table shook beneath me.
