Chapter 39 Evie #2
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wanted to tell him everything—how much I needed him, how close I’d come to giving up—but the words caught in my throat.
One wrong move and it could all collapse.
My pulse hammered in my ears as I realized I didn’t care.
I only wanted him. “I am choosing you. Right now. Yesterday, years before that. I always choose you.”
There was a beat of silence, thick and heavy, the world narrowing to only the two of us and the hum of the bike beneath us. My body already ached for him, heat pooling low, need radiating from every nerve.
His arm looped around me, pulling me impossibly close, his hips pressing into me.
His lips crashed against mine, rough and insistent, and I melted into him instantly.
The kiss was fire, heat, desperation—the kind that made knees weak and breath ragged.
I groaned, letting my hands wander across his back, memorizing the hard planes beneath my fingers.
He reached down, hands slipping under me to lift before settling me on his lap as he sat on the bike.
I pressed against him, hips instinctively rolling, trying to match his rhythm. His grip was firm but not relentless, holding me in place as our bodies moved together.
“Are you choosing me right now?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
I nodded, pressing my lips back against his, deepening the kiss.
“You would fuck me like this, wouldn’t you?
” he asked, pulling me down by my hair so my back pressed against the tank.
“On the bike, legs wrapped around me as you’re draped over this tank where anyone could see us.
God, imagine someone watching, knowing exactly what’s happening to you—knowing you are coming undone for me and me only. ”
Heat pooled between my legs. The risk, the thrill—it was almost unbearable. I leaned back slightly, arching, teasing, “And you’d like that, too, wouldn’t you?”
“I would lose my mind showing off exactly how fucking mine you are,” he admitted, voice low, thick.
I gasped, shivering, as his hand slid down my back, pulling me flush against him. The movement was sharp, commanding, thrilling, and my jaw tipped back instinctively. I caught the faintest whiff of his cologne mixed with the heat radiating off him.
“Mine,” he growled, and it wasn’t a question. Every syllable vibrated through me.
I arched into him, chest pressing against his, trying to match the rhythm of his hips. Finally, his cock pressed against me, straining over my leggings. My breath hitched, anticipation coiling tight and sharp.
“Do you feel that?” he hissed, fingers tightening around my wrists on the handlebars, holding me perfectly in place. “Every inch of you pressed to me. Every sound, every shiver—it’s all mine.”
He pulled at my clothes, moving them out of the way so fast I barely took a full breath.
I couldn’t answer with words—only a trembling moan escaped me, hips rolling instinctively. I bit my lip, shivering at his words. His cock pressed against me, hard and unrelenting, the tip nudging, teasing. I ached for him, needing him buried inside me, claiming me completely.
He leaned forward, pressing his chest against mine, lips brushing my ear. “Open for me,” he ordered, and I obeyed instantly, shivering at the possessive heat in his eyes. His hand slid down to my core, pressing inside me with a growl, stretching me around him.
The first slow push inside me made me arch hard against him, nails scraping the handles, teeth clenching.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, tilting my jaw so I could meet his eyes as he drove deeper. “So wet, so needy. I can feel every inch of you.”
I moaned, heat blooming through me as he drove into me, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, the friction amplified by the bike’s vibration. His grip shifted, holding me firmly, thumb brushing my cheek as he pressed close, lips grazing my jaw, teeth teasing my skin, marking me.
“Look at you,” he hissed, voice low and rough. “You can’t hide it. Every inch of you wrapped around me, every shiver, every gasp—I can feel it. I can feel how much you want me. Feel it. Feel me filling you.”
I arched harder, chest pressing to his, body quivering. The heat of his skin against mine, the relentless push and pull—it was too much, and just enough. My legs instinctively tightened around his waist, holding him closer, desperate for more friction.
Every thrust made me moan, arching against him, cock buried, marking, claiming. The thrill of exhibition—the danger of being seen—made every sensation sharper, deeper, impossible to ignore.
“Ride it,” he growled, pressing me down, hips snapping into mine. “Ride me like you want it, want to be claimed right here, in front of everyone who could see us.”
I did, pressing my body flush against his, every movement matching his, rocking into him, gasping and moaning, fingers clutching his shoulders as he held me close, forcing me to meet his gaze as I lost myself.
“You’re so wet, so tight—fuck,” he groaned, thrusting faster, harder with the kind of reckless, delicious abandon only he could manage. “I’m going to drown in you. All of you, mine, right here. You’re letting me ruin you, little Psycho, and you love it.”
I arched into him, tilting my head back, lips brushing his neck, leaving heated kisses, biting lightly, whining as he drove into me, hard and relentless.
His hand slipped under my hoodie, grazing my bare skin, fingertips brushing the swell of my breasts before cupping one in a rough, deliberate squeeze.
I shivered, pressing closer, and he nipped at my jaw, pulling me flush against him.
“You want more, don’t you?” he growled. “Want me to fuck you over this bike until you can’t think straight?”
“Yes,” I whispered, voice trembling. “Please, Aiden.”
His grin widened, teeth flashing. “God, you make it so easy to fuck you like this.” His hips drove into mine, steady at first, then hard and punishing. The friction was unbearable, delicious, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core.
I pressed back against him, shivering, hands gripping the handlebars, fingernails digging into metal, every nerve alive. He leaned close, tilting my head just enough to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me,” he demanded, voice low, hot. “I want to see how much you love this. How much you need me.”
“I do,” I moaned, voice shaking. “So much.”
He growled, thrusting harder, and I gasped as the sheer force of him entering me drove my body into a frenzy. He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine briefly, before letting his hands roam—gripping my face, threading through my hair, holding me in place while he fucked me relentlessly.
“I could do this forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
I clutched him tighter, legs tightening, hips rolling with his rhythm. “Then don’t stop,” I begged, voice raw, trembling. “Please, don’t stop.”
His grin was wicked. “Oh, I won’t. I’m only getting started.
” He tugged my hair hard, tilting my face back again, and slammed into me, hips snapping, breath hot against my neck.
Every movement was precise, violent in its perfection, and I couldn’t help the shuddering, the moans, the wet slick heat he was creating inside me.
“Psycho girl,” he groaned, “you’re going to make me lose it right here, right now.”
“Then come,” I whispered back, voice breaking.
The response was immediate. His thrusts stuttered, then drove deeper, harder, faster, and I tensed around him, body stretching, each motion filling me more.
My vision blurred, the bike’s vibration merging with heat and friction, and I shattered completely, every tremble and gasp lost in the intensity of him.
He held me pressed to him, fingers in my hair, one hand cradling my face, the other gripping my waist as he followed through, groaning and trembling until his hips stilled.
I sagged against him, breathless, sweat-slicked, and shaking. “Fuck,” I gasped, hair tousled, skin flushed, nipples hard under my hoodie, the lingering friction making me dizzy.
Aiden exhaled slowly, still inside me, and whispered, “You are so fucking perfect.” His hand eased from my face, still gripping my hair lightly, fingers trailing down my spine. “I’m going to ruin you again before we’re done with tonight.”
I couldn’t help but grin, chest heaving, pressing against him. “I’m counting on it.”
The engine idled beneath us, the vibration humming through my thighs and up my spine, still slick and trembling from the chaos we’d indulged in. My chest pressed against him, breath ragged, hair still tangled in his fingers as the warmth of him spread through me.
He kept his hands on my waist, thumbs stroking just enough to ground me, just enough to remind me of what we did.
He held me there for a while, losing track of time as my skin finally cooled.
The engine thrummed beneath us, our bodies still linked, sweat cooling in the night. I closed my eyes, letting the heat linger, letting the chaos settle into the soft hum of the bike—but still teasing, still dangerous, still so us.
Something settled deep in me. Aiden was mine, he was always mine and always would be.
It didn’t matter what happened next—this was only the beginning.