39. Gemma
THIRTY-NINE
GEMMA
One week later
My first thought is that this feels achingly familiar.
The second I open my eyes, déjà vu hits me and the sensation overwhelms my consciousness.
I’m laying on Aaron’s living room couch, you know, the one that’s made of clouds straight from heaven. He’s snuggled in behind me, spooning me, with my face tucked into the cushions along the back of the couch, cocooned in peacefully. The position is so comfortable I’m pretty sure I could stay here for the rest of my days, if it weren’t for the need building inside me.
That’s definitely Aaron Jr. (not-so-junior) I feel poking into my behind, and I’ll be damned if I’m not getting a flood of images in my mind’s eye from it. All the times I’ve gotten acquainted with that particular part over the past weeks. All the fantasies I’d had about it prior to my reality becoming even better than my dreams. And another morning, eerily similar, where I woke up in a position almost identical to this one, that—strangely enough—more or less kicked off this fucked up series of events that led us to where we are today. The thought brings a sleepy smile to my face and I can’t help but grind my hips against his erection, just a little, for old times’ sake. His arms tighten around me, and it’s his turn to groan from the sensations that friction between us creates, the promise that it builds.
Aaron must have lifted his head up, because I feel it come down on top of mine, his lips placing gentle kisses along the side of my neck until his mouth is pressed against my ear and the most dangerous little noise sounds. It sends a zip of passion straight to my most sensitive parts, and when his hands slide up my middle to cup my breasts and start rolling my nipples, I can tell this is about to get out of hand. It’s not like we have a jam-packed schedule today, it’s his first day off since his schedule kicked back in again, but if we go down this path, I might not let him off the couch for the rest of the day.
Then it hits me. Not so fast. Last time we were in this position, he didn’t give me what I wanted, and it might be time to return the favor. As soon as his hands release my breasts from that delicious form of torture and they start roaming the rest of me, I slam my booty into his hips, shoving him backward off me until the cold air greets my skin where his warmth just was, and I hear his grunt of pain as he hits the floor.
“Up,” I tell him, quoting him from months ago, before hopping over him and making to run straight to the kitchen to get our breakfasts started, like I’ve done a couple thousand times before.
He closes his eyes in disbelief, and as my feet pass his head, that gorgeous deep blue gaze meets mine and he lets out a chuckle of resignation.
“I deserved that.”
I think I can hear him heading into what might as well, officially or unofficially, be dubbed our room for all the time we’ve spent in it recently, presumably to get ready for the day.
Not even twenty minutes later and he’s emerged in black joggers and a white tee, hair wet and wow a definite tent on display, just for me. You could fit the entire Weasley family and their guests for the Quidditch World Cup in that thing.
This view doesn’t get old, friends.
My eyes track his frame and get stuck on that obvious detail, my throat bobbing, a dead giveaway of my desire, but I can’t be bothered to try to hide it right now.
I’m reminded of so many mornings we’ve shared in this very kitchen, this same food I’ve prepared, with so many jokes, stories, moments between us that have made me fall in love with him more each day. It all slams into me at once, where we’ve been, where we’ve ended up, and chills break out along my entire frame, which he definitely takes note of.
“What’s for breakfast, Gem?” That is not the same voice he usually asks me that question in. Nope, that deep, sultry tone is one I’ve only heard these past few weeks, and my body recognizes its master at once. Both knees grow weak and I prop myself up by extending my arms on the counter of the island behind me to hopefully look close to normal here. Get it together, Gem. Don’t get distracted by that raw male yumminess. Be cool.
“Cr-crepes.” Hopefully clearing my throat distracts from that stammer. He takes another calculated step toward me, eyebrows raised as I try again. “Crepes with berries and Chantilly cream. Coddled eggs with rosemary potato spears and baguette rounds.”
Thank God I had an answer prepped for him. That could’ve been embarrassing if he thought he could throw me off by using sex as a weapon against me. Hah. Nice try, Stone.
“Mmm,” he teases.
Dammit. He’s onto me.
Our bodies are barely separated at this point, his thighs just inches away from my own. He pokes his head around my shoulder to take in the display of our usual breakfast behind me and rights himself again, directly in front of me, with a heart-stopping smirk on his face. That face that—combined with his ever-present charm—has landed him countless roles and made him damn near a household name. When he uses it against me, I don’t stand a chance.
I’m hoping he uses other parts against me, too.
My throat works again, an audible gulp sounding as I realize he’s penned me in against the counter. Our bodies are now flush, his pressed firmly against mine. Those toned, athletic thighs against my thinner ones. His hardness is sandwiched between his solid abs and my softer stomach, leaving zero question in my mind as to whether he’s able to wait for later before we jump back into our new favorite pastime. Lucky for me, he isn’t.
A rush of anticipation floods my lower belly, down into my core, where I feel my heartbeat settle. The increased blood flow in the area is highlighting how sore I still am after yesterday’s activities, but I’m willing to test this out and see how far I can push my limits. After all, how am I supposed to grow without challenging myself?
Aaron’s face comes ever closer to mine until he drops it forward, pressing his lips to the sensitive column of my throat. My head drops back, and I savor the feeling of his mouth on the delicate skin of my neck.
I swear he’s got me hot-wired, all it takes is those lips on that spot on my neck and the floodgates have opened down below.
My hips twitch anxiously, my ass working against the counter behind me, trying to keep from giving in and jumping his bones right here and now, because the anticipation is half the fun, I’ve learned. Aaron takes advantage of the extra inch of space I’ve created and presses himself farther into my lower stomach, and a groan escapes me at the knowledge that soon I’ll be able to feel him in that same spot, but from the inside.
He flexes his hips, grinding himself against the perfect spot through my soft lounge pants, and that’s when my legs start to tremble.
“Can I tell you something?” he whispers against my ear.
“Anything,” I manage to get out.
“This looks delicious.” It takes me a second to realize we were just talking about the food behind me, and I nod once.
“Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, but how does anyone expect me to be functional with six feet, and more importantly, what has to be eight inches of this man pressed into me like this? I’m impressed I remembered to use basic manners at all, thank you very much.
One of his hands comes up behind my head and tilts it back up so that we’re looking in each others’ eyes again. Those dilated pupils have all of my attention.
“But there’s something else I’d rather devour right now.”
Oh.
He leans forward, bending me backward until my spine is nearly pressed flat to the island. He stretches out so that he can use his arms to swipe all of the plates and glasses off of the countertop in one swift move. Both of our heads move to track the motion, watching in slow motion as the ceramic dishware shatters, food flying halfway across the tiled floor as it makes impact with the ground.
My jaw flies open in disbelief. That was the most impractical—and possibly the hottest—thing I’ve ever seen.
It takes about two seconds before the consequences of his actions catch up to him. Aaron stands up straighter so I can too (my back appreciates it), before speaking again.
“Fuck.” He grips his head in his hands, distress seeping out of him. “We’re gonna have to clean that up. Fuck!” His panicked eyes rapidly take in the scene of chaos. “Why does nobody ever show that part in the movies?”
And the bubble of solemnity bursts. We both break out in laughter, nearing full-on hysterics at the mess he just made in what he surely thought would be a moment of passion. The toast looks fairly unharmed, but the scrambled eggs are coating the bright white kitchen cabinets along the lower half of one whole wall, dripping down until they splat on the floor comically, and I’m pretty sure there’s oatmeal on every surface from the large apron sink, all the way up to the pendant lights hanging from the cathedral ceiling.
Doubled over, I laugh until my stomach hurts and my sides start to cramp.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I wheeze out after a minute of giggles.
“It looks so cool on-screen!” He throws his hands up in defense, like he’s stumped as to why that didn’t look like something out of commercial for a cleaning product or something.
When our eyes connect again though, the mirth vanishes, sucked out of the room in an instant, replaced by a fierce intensity I feel insanely lucky to be a part of. And just like that, all of my focus is on him again, the rest of our surroundings forgotten.
He steps closer once again, his hands gripping my face, tilting it at the exact angle he wants so he can bring his lips to meet mine, consuming my mouth with his. One of those talented hands runs across my cheek, past my ear and buries itself in my hair, pulling my face in. The other hand trails down, one finger under my chin, the rest of them gently resting against that dip above my collarbone, sending tingles flooding throughout my entire nervous system.
It’s all I can do to remember to breathe as our tongues dance, a desperate claiming of souls in the form of a kiss. My arms come up his torso, running along those fucking abs he works so hard for, feeling the firm muscles of his pecs, and always touching the spot where that tattoo for me lives any chance I get as I rope my forearms around his shoulders and neck, pulling him as close to me as possible.
He breaks the kiss off with a small growl and one final nip of my lower lip before disentangling his hands and running them down my arms until he’s holding me at the waist. Then he scoops me up right under the small ass I am learning to be thankful I was blessed with, as this sexy specimen seems to be rather obsessed with it, and he hoists me up onto the counter behind me. His frame seems so much larger than mine like this, and he uses that size to spread my thighs and make the perfect opening for him, his hips nestled between mine.
Oh God, at this height, he’s pressing up right where I need him, and I can’t help but move my hips, rocking back and forth to seek out the pleasure this man makes me crave. He drags his nose up the side of my neck and into my hair, inhaling deeply as he goes while he lets me move around on him as my instinct demands. The sound from him is primal, and I feel another wave of arousal soak my panties as I’m driven absolutely crazy by need.
A memory of another time he had me cornered against the kitchen counter, turned on and out of my mind with want invades my mind, and I wrap my legs around his hips, locking them behind his ass to make the most of the fact that I’m finally his, and he’s all. Fucking. Mine.
The grin that takes over my face is probably demonic but I don’t give two shits as I lean back on my arms for leverage and shamelessly grind against him, giving my clit all the friction it could ask for until my legs are shaking and the only sound I can make is a series of whimpers.
Aaron looks down between where our hips are moving of their own accord and then back up to my face, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. I don’t know why, he’s seen me come—from every possible angle—at least a few dozen times by now, but I guess I get it. I could never get tired of watching the pleasure I create in him overtake his features, his eyes diffusing with the bliss of another orgasm. It’s sincerely never enough between us.
“Fuuuuuck,” he lets out, his eyes now trained solely on those thin layers over my center, and the way it’s rubbing up and down his length.
I’m not going to make it until he’s inside of me.
Some switch has been thrown inside me with all of those memories of the times I didn’t get to do this haunting me, and I’m fucking feral right now.
I want this man inside of me, and I want to come around him over and over again until we’re both passing out from exhaustion, or maybe dehydration.
Putting my hands on the counter on either side of my ass for leverage, I start bouncing against him harder, his weight still pressing against me, creating that perfect resistance as I work myself on him through our clothes. He bites his lower lip and damn, what I wouldn’t give to be that lip right now.
The beginning of the orgasm hits my system, the tightening low in my belly, the telltale tingles starting to radiate throughout my body. My hips move faster, chasing that first high of many I’ll have today, when—in less than a blink—all the sensations vanish. My eyes pop open and so do my lips as I look down to see what happened.
Aaron’s dick is no longer between my legs, but the good news is it is now out in the open, no longer contained by those fucking athletic pants. He’s somehow gotten naked in maybe five seconds. I moan a little at the sight, but it sounds more like a complaint.
“Hey,” he whispers, bringing one finger back underneath my chin to bring my eyes off his junk and to his own stare instead. “There’s no rush.”
A pout overtakes my features, I can feel it, and he continues. “I’m gonna take care of you, Gem. I’ll give you what you need. But when you come, it’s gonna be with my dick inside you, you got that? I need to feel you from the inside on this first one.”
I don’t have words for what that just did to my system, the jolt of desire, anticipation that rocked my core nearly pushed me over the edge. We work together to get my lounge pants, underwear and tee shirt off as fast as possible, and in seconds, he’s back between my legs, pressing my back down against the cool marble countertop.
My whole body shivers at the contact and resultant chill. He runs his hands down my chest, over my breasts, trailing them past my nipples, and all the way down my abdomen until his hands are on the tops of my legs, right near where my hips meet my thighs. That leaves behind an entirely different kind of chill, and I spread my legs wider for him, eagerness overtaking me.
“That IUD still good, baby?”
“For another few years, Stone.”
“Thank fuck. I need to feel you bare.”
I don’t mention that he’s a little late for asking me that, but I also don’t fault him for checking on it. Now isn’t the time for a pregnancy, and being that he doesn’t have a uterus, it wouldn’t surprise me if he thought they needed to be changed out monthly or something. After all, I distinctly remember him being on a callback for his first movie role during the sex ed lesson where our class learned most of what was important.
“I told you. Nothing between us. Ever again.” I mean it in every sense of the word. His eyes heat in response, and he grips my thighs from below, pulling me to the very edge of the counter so he can line himself up with my entrance. Finally .
I know I’m wet as fuck from that little foreplay session and the way he just edged me, so when his tip finds my center, it slides right in, stretching me as he goes, like our bodies were formed and molded specifically for one another. I can’t help it, I tighten around him as he pushes himself farther in, and a strained breath hisses out from between his teeth at the feel of me surrounding him.
“Jesus,” he can barely get the words out. “So wet.” Another breath hisses. “So tight.” His eyes roll back in his head as he pushes inch after inch inside of me, despite the resistance. “So. Fucking. Perfect.”
The waves of pleasure are already hitting me, and I know my first release is going to be absolutely massive. Once he’s fully seated, the base of his shaft rubbing deliciously against my clit, he pauses for a minute to lean forward and suck my nipple in his mouth. He teases my right side, then my left, running his tongue around the pert buds, one after another, and a shudder rolls through me.
I don’t mean to slap his shoulder, but that’s what happens.
“Start. Moving,” I grunt out.
He tsks me, but I can tell he’s loving how needy I am for him.
“So demanding,” he teases, but he doesn’t give me what I asked for.
I push my upper body off of the counter and lunge for him, pulling his face to mine by the back of his neck and start sucking on his mouth, showing him with my tongue exactly what I want him to do to me already. The way this man works my mind and my body gets me turned on like no one else ever has. It’s like by the time we actually connect physically, I’m halfway to combustion, every single time. I can’t help it, and he probably couldn’t either. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, ever dreamed of having for myself, and when he’s inside of me, the whole world seems like it makes sense for once in my life.
Apparently my tongue massaging his was all the encouragement he needed, or maybe it’s just what broke his restraint, because he starts rolling his hips into mine, and after a few pumps, he breaks our kiss and starts pounding into me the way I’ve been craving. You know, for the last eight or so hours where I haven’t had him. I don’t even care about the residual soreness, what he’s doing feels so good I ignore any complaints my body puts up.
“This,” he grunts out. “It was always supposed to be like this.”
The spot he’s hitting deep inside me—both physically and spiritually, right down to my soul—is everything I could hope for, and then some. Then he’s doing this thing where he grinds into me after every few thrusts, and the combination of those sensations—internal and external—feels like too much for me. My entire body starts to shake, and he wraps me up in his arms, holding me close to him to ride out the pleasure, even as he drags it out for me.
One of his hands is wrapped behind my skull, he’s pressing our foreheads together and the intimacy brings me to a new plane of existence.
“You feel that?”
A drawn-out groan is my only response.
He grunts out his next words between thrusts, our faces still millimeters apart. “This is what it feels like when your soul mate is the one fucking you, Gem. It’s never gonna feel like this with anyone else. You were fucking made for me , baby, no one else.” Aaron hits a particularly deep spot within me on the next pump of his hips, and takes an extra second to grind himself against my clit until I’m shaking, then he growls, “Now show me how much you like this dick, what I do to you with it, and come on it.”
The release slams into me in time with his next thrust, and I feel myself pulsing around him, squeezing him for all I’m worth as I’m wracked with one of the most intense orgasms of my life. His eyes practically glow, a radiant mix of blues with flecks of gold, his pupils blown out in arousal, as I stare into them through the entire thing, mouth slack, head empty of anything but this moment.
Between the foreplay, the edging, what he’s doing to me physically and his hotter-than-Hades words, I’m half amazed I haven’t blacked out from the bliss of this moment. It’s absolute perfection, but I’m not ready for it to be over yet.
He continues pumping into me as the aftershocks recede, and I’m left gasping for air after that mind-blowing experience. I can feel him getting even harder, and before he can start to twitch and jerk inside of me and it’s too late, I panic and shove him backward as hard as I can.
Aaron looks shocked by the sudden movement, and the disbelief on his face as he realizes we’re no longer connected, that his imminent release was just taken away from him almost makes me smile.
I’m still too flushed from my comedown, not enough of my cells are responding to basic commands yet, or I’d be grinning at the expression on his face. He doesn’t need to worry. I’ll make sure he finishes, he should know that. But I need more from him first. After all, I’ve been waiting more than a decade for this. It’s only fair I get to make up for that lost time, right?