The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,207
wishing you were around,” he said in a steady tone. “You tell me what I feel.”
With a burst of strength I didn’t think I had in me, I made myself get up to my knees and leaned over to press my mouth against his.
And I wasn’t surprised when Aiden instantly wrapped an arm around my lower back and pulled me into him, his mouth tilting to the side and opening. With a swipe of his tongue across my bottom lip, I opened my mouth and let it brush against mine, slow and hesitant, exploratory.
Aiden kissed me like… good lord, like we were having slow, intense sex. At least the kind of slow, intense sex I’d seen in porns before.
Our chests were sealed against each other’s, his arms were around me and my hands were in his hair, and we just kissed. We kissed and we kissed and we kissed the shit out of each other like we did that day in his room before everything.
It could have lasted for five minutes or it could have been for twenty, but when he finally pulled his mouth away, I let out a cry right onto his mouth.
Aiden’s sigh wafted over my chin as he planted that sexy, full mouth on one side of my jaw and then the other, his palms cradling the sides of my ribs possessively. “Your door is open and Zac is here,” he said into my skin.
“Damn it,” I whispered.
He chuckled. “Later. I promise.”
“You do?”
He hummed and kissed my cheek. “Finish eating.”
* * *
I woke up on my side hours later. So many hours later it took me a second to remember where I was. Why I was where I was—Aiden’s bed. After I ate another small meal, I’d gone to his room and laid down, asking if Leo was fine with Leslie, who had stayed on babysitting duty with the precious blond prince in Colorado. I remembered getting really tired and beginning to doze off.
Apparently, he hadn’t kicked me out of his bed and had instead tucked me in, and at some point in the night—or maybe he’d done it from the beginning—Aiden had come up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist.
Which was exactly where and how I found myself in that moment.
I was awake, on my side with Aiden directly behind me, grinding his erection into my bottom as his hand snuck between my legs; those fingers were touching me low. Low. Right where my entire body centered. Right where I could tell how wet and anxious I was after so long.
How long has this been going on? I asked myself before I accepted that it didn’t matter.
I was squirming, moving my hips at the sensation behind me and in front of me. The long pipe under his clothes pressed hot against my butt; strong fingertips rubbed over the thin cotton of my panties and pajama pants. That big chest I admired on a daily basis was aligned with my back, molded to it.
He rolled his lower body and I rolled against him. The feel of him big and hard behind me was seriously the most amazing thing in the world. His mouth latched onto the nape of my neck, kissing, then biting where it met my shoulder. I panted. Aiden rubbed me lightly where I wanted him the most and I choked on the sensation, reaching behind me blindly to sneak my hand between our bodies. I cupped him, or as much of him as I could, and stroked up and down over that thick ridge that seemed to go on forever from the base.
“Aiden, please,” I whispered when his fingers circled over the too-damp material covering the seam between my thighs.
He answered by nipping my earlobe before sucking it between his lips.
“Aiden,” I repeated, gripping him hard in my hand before adjusting my position and slipping between the elastic of his boxer briefs and the hot skin of his lower abs. The short, bristly hairs at his root tickled my palm for a moment before I wrapped my palm and fingers around his base. My palm slid over from the tip of his erection all the way to the firm sack just below his base. I gave his balls a squeeze before doing the motion all over again. All that silky, hot skin brushing over my hand, his slick, damp tip painting a line over my fingers, palm, and inner wrist.
Without a warning, he yanked the hem of my pants down