least back then, he was simply an arsehole.
Now, he’s an arsehole who knows all the buttons to push in my body.
Aiden reaches to my back and yanks the bra free.
His eyes fill with overwhelming lust. My head turns away. I might not be embarrassed about my body, but the scar is another story.
The scar is my disgrace.
The key to my Pandora’s Box.
Aiden crawls atop of me, supporting himself on his palms and places kisses along my scar. Shock reverberates beneath my skin and tears fill my eyes.
“Stop that!” I don’t like the vulnerability.
Of all people, Aiden doesn’t get to see me bare, both body and soul.
“Too bad you don’t call the shots tonight.” He grins before his mouth goes back to worshipping my scar, his stubble tickling against the skin.
I try to push him. His index and thumb latch around a nipple and squeezes. Hard. I cry out as a zap of intense pleasure and pain pools between my thighs.
Aiden lifts his head with a smirk. “You like that, don’t you?”
I want to shake my head, to tell him to screw off, but my expression must appear dazed.
Aiden pinches my nipple again, and I hiss. Then he massages it, giving me a hazy pleasurable feeling. Before I can fall into it, he pinches again. He does it over and over. Just when I’m falling into the pleasurable feeling, he pinches.
I become delirious and drunk on the ecstasy he wrenches out of me.
He bites the other nipple into his hot mouth. My back arches as he surrounds the hard pebble with his lips and then nibbles slightly. “I love these.” His warm breaths send shivers along my skin. “Don’t you love what I do to them?”
I make some sound I can’t pinpoint.
“Do you want me to bite?”
I’m breathing heavily, my nipples are assaulted and sensitive, but I can’t say no.
I can’t say yes either.
I can’t say anything.
Maybe Aiden is right. Maybe I like him to dominate me.
His eyes darken as if reading my thoughts. He doesn't wait for an answer. He bites, hard.
Pain zips down my spine and a strange sensation tightens the bottom of my stomach. He massages my throbbing nipple with his tongue, and I whimper. He bites again and again.
I’m a writhing, crying mess beneath him, but I can’t tell him to stop.
I don’t want to.
I haven’t felt such an onslaught of emotions in my life before and I’m craving it.
I’m craving more.
Is crazy contagious? Because I’m starting to feel as depraved as Aiden.
Just like with his fingers, the soothing massaging is just a build up before he tortures me with his bites again.
He does the same to the swell of my breasts and the soft skin of my stomach before travelling down.
“Should I ask, sweetheart?” His voice is husky and filled with the deep lust that’s coursing through my veins.
His fingers curve into the hem of my underwear before bringing it down my legs.
I shudder when cold air hits my sensitive, wet folds.
Aiden sniffs the air and grins.
I see the devil in his eyes, and the first thought is… I want that devil.
How can I want a devil?
“I can smell your arousal.” He growls. “What am I going to do with you now?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Aiden grips each of my thighs, spreads them wide, and lowers himself between them.
For long seconds, he just studies me. I’m glad I always keep it shaved down there. I can’t get a clear look at him, but I can feel him.
His harsh breaths. The heavy rise and fall of his shoulders. His brute strength gripping both my thighs to keep me spread-eagled for his eyes.
He’s only watching me, but that’s enough for a primal sensation to hit me.
It’s like he’s burning and melting me with his gaze.
“Aiden…”
I don’t know why I call his name. All I know is that I can’t bear the suffocating tension.
“Hmm. You’re wet.” He releases a thigh to trace a thumb up my folds. “Were you wet since I kissed you? Or after I threw you on the bed?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“I love kissing you.”
So do I.
Damn me, so do I.
“Your lips were made for me, sweetheart.” He pauses. “Everything about you was made for me.”
He places a chaste kiss on my folds. The contact is so intimate, so… crude that a shudder crawls down my spine.
“Did someone eat your pussy before? Did you let them?” There’s an edge to his tone as if he doesn’t want to hear the answer.
His mere words are enough to paint a dirty