Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
CHARLOTTE
It’s thrilling.
To see Aiden standing in front of me in his kitchen—tall, broad, half-naked. He hasn’t put on a shirt, and there’s so much ripped chest on display. Strong arms, corded with muscles, and broad shoulders. He looks so solid. A wide slab of a man.
There’s dark hair on his chest, same shade as the hair on his head. And a happy trail from his navel that disappears beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, where the thick outline of his erection is clear.
Because of me.
“Can I help?” I ask. My voice sounds a bit breathless, even to my own ears. He hadn’t let me reciprocate the other week. It had just been me, losing control on that couch, and I want to regain some of it.
Put us back on even footing.
“Charlotte,” he says, and his eyes drift closed. He’s breathing hard. “If you touch me…”
“Yeah?” I close the distance between us and put my hands on his waist. Slide them over the flat of his stomach and the firm muscles beneath.
He exhales hoarsely. “I’m going to explode.”
I glide my hand down, trailing my fingers lightly over the soft fabric. God, he’s thick. I remember that from Utah. But it had been dark and late at night, and I hadn’t been exploring as properly as I would’ve liked. As I want to do now.
I stroke him through his pants.
A groan escapes him. “You’re playing with me, Chaos.”
“You like games,” I say. Him in these gray sweats should be illegal. They hide nothing, and now I can’t believe it wasn’t the first thing I saw when he opened his bedroom door, face tense and shirt off.
“Mm-hmm. And you want to explore, do you?” He turns his back to the kitchen island and grips it behind him with both hands. Taking himself out of the equation… and giving me free rein. His eyes are dark, his jaw is tense. “You do whatever you want.”
I reach for the waistband. Pull it down an inch, and then two, over his straining hardness. He’s not wearing briefs beneath the pants.
His cock emerges, with the domed head and a vein snaking up along the shaft. I grip him.
His breath catches.
He’s firm, but the skin is softer than anywhere else on him. I stroke him slowly and look up to see his teeth grind together. He’s gripping that counter hard.
“Payback,” I say lightly. “For the other night.”
“Mm-hmm,” he grinds out.
“You made me come so hard when I thought I wouldn’t.” I reach down and find the heavy weight of his balls. I roll them in my free hand.
“Fuck,” he bites out. They’re sensitive as hell, I know. And right now, he’s in the palm of my hand.
I stroke faster and let my hand curve over the broad head on every pass. He nearly bucks into my hand, and beneath my grip, I feel him twitch. Is he close already?
Bright color spreads across his cheekbones, and he looks at me through narrowed, hooded eyes.
“You’re enjoying this,” he mutters.
My smile widens. “Not as much as you are, clearly. The big bad billionaire CEO… reduced to a panting mess because of me.”
His eyes darken. “You’re on a power trip.”
“Maybe I am.” I tighten my hand around his balls, and his breath turns into a hiss. More wetness pools at the tip of his head. I feel like someone else—a sex goddess—when he looks at me like that. Like I can do anything with him, be anyone with him, and he would want me just as I am.
I’m just Charlotte. An alternate version of myself, where the outside world fades away and it’s just me and him. And his lust-filled eyes.
“Every night, you said.”
“Every night.” His voice is hoarse, his entire body taut. His abs flex and relax, and I marvel at that, too. “You’ve got me hard and aching all the fucking time.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, his jaw visibly clenched. He tips his head back, and it’s like I’m witnessing him trying to hold on. Trying not to give up control when I’m so clearly the one holding him in my hands.
I feel high on power. I want even more of it. I want him to come apart because of me.
I pause, my hand gripping his cock tight but keeping still.
His eyes fly open. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling. “Please, for fucks sake,” he mutters. His arms are straining against the kitchen counter, like he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch me.
I smile at him. And sink to my knees.
I lick a broad stripe over his head, and he groans again. It’s music to my ears.
“Fuck, Chaos, I’m so close.”
I look up at him and wrap my lips around him. He curses again, hand sliding into my hair. There’s another garbled warning, and I just keep sucking him deeper, my tongue swirling around his head.
He erupts. I hear him groan above me, feel him twitch and empty down my throat. I look up to see his face twisted into an expression that rides the fine line between pleasure and pain.
I’m invincible. I’m ten feet tall and an Amazonian warrior, ready to face any trial that comes my way.
He twitches one final time, and his strained arms relax. I slowly pull my mouth off him and sit back on my heels. He looks ruined. Handsome, tired, and sweaty. And wrecked… by me.
“Is that a good enough apology?” I ask sweetly.
He reaches for my shoulders, pulling me up to stand. “Fuck, Chaos, that was unreal. You’re incredible.”
“Just proving a point,” I say.
He glides his hands down my arms, over my hips. “Prove it any day.”
Lifting me up, he puts me on the kitchen island. The marble is cold beneath my bare thighs, and I lean forward, seeking his heat.
“You’re incredible.” He kisses down my cheek, down to my neck. “Such a good girl.”
“I’m not good.” Even so, his words send heat down my body.
He chuckles again. “Yes, you are. My sweet writer. Driving me up the fucking walls, sure, but you’re so good.” His lips move down my neck, while his hands hitch my shirt up, inch by inch. When he cups my small breasts, I close my eyes at the pleasure.
“Chaos,” he mutters and leans back to pull my shirt fully off. “Arms up.”
I lift them up, and he tugs the shirt off me completely. His eyes are that deep, dark-jade color as he drinks me in.
“It’s nothing much,” I say, teasingly, because his expression says otherwise.
“You’re everything. So fucking perfect, Chaos.” His hands grip my hips, and he devours me. With his eyes, with his mouth.
He kisses my neck again and damn, it’s my greatest weakness. I moan, and he chuckles against my skin. “I’m going to enjoy this button.”
I can’t find the words in my scrambled brain. He touches me like I’m made out of glass, and like he also wants to crush me against him. The effect is intoxicating. Hands slide around my lower back, my ribs, cup my breasts with warm palms. And his mouth drifts down.
“So beautiful,” he says again. “It’s driving me insane, just how pretty you are.”
I tunnel my fingers into his hair. “You’re biased.”
“Mm-hmm. Biased as fuck.” He kisses along the swell of my chest, mouths at the skin. “Perfection. These tits, Chaos? Perfection .”
I smile at the words. They wash over me, adding to the pleasure welling inside. It’s always a heady cocktail with Aiden.
His lips close around a nipple, and he sucks on it firmly, alternating with lavish licks of his tongue. I grip his hair tighter and feel like I’m floating away again. This part is so easy with him. So painfully simple. Like slipping into a comfortable pair of shoes, or putting on my favorite pajamas.
His teeth close around the sensitive peak, and I gasp.
Aiden looks up at me and smiles. “Gotta keep you on your toes, Chaos. These sweet, perfect nipples are all mine now.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say and squirm on the counter. He’s touching me everywhere except where I’m burning. I tip my shoulder forward, pushing the breast he hasn’t played with into his grasp.
His grin widens. He opens so wide that nearly my entire tit fits into his mouth, and my brain short-circuits.
Aiden’s hands are tight around my waist. One of them slides down, drifts between my slightly splayed thighs, and strokes me through the fabric of my thong.
“So sweet,” he mutters again and blows gently on my stiff nipple. “The sweetest tits I’ve ever tasted.”
I shake my head a little and feel myself slipping under even further. Being with him is like losing space and time. “I’m not sweet, Aiden.”
“You are.” His lips kiss over the gentle swell. “I would know, Chaos. I’ve got my mouth on you. You’ve got a hard shell sometimes, but beneath it you’re sweet. Pure fucking sugar.”
My body stiffens, and my mind clears. Sugar. A man is calling me sugar again, and it’s all I can focus on.
Aiden’s finger continues to stroke through the fabric of my thong, and my body is screaming for me to let him keep at it. The release is right on the other side of this. It would be so easy to sink into him. To listen to his words and believe them.
But I know what happens at the end of that route.
The alarm goes off again. It dings through the kitchen, so much louder here than it had been upstairs in my bedroom, coming right from that hidden cabinet.
Aiden lifts his head with a groan. “This thing has terrible timing.”
I smile a little. “Maybe you should change the batteries for real this time.”
His eyes are dark, hair mussed. “There is nothing I’d like to do less. But for you...”—he presses a quick kiss to my lips—“I will be the hero.”
“Thank you!” I call as he disappears into the hallway.
The marble is cold beneath my thighs and ass, so I reach for my T-shirt. I hadn’t noticed the coolness before. I clutch the shirt to my chest and take a few deep, clarifying breaths.
This is supposed to be easy. Something I can walk away from.
But what just happened doesn’t feel like it would be easy to walk away from. It feels dangerously close to something real, something emotional. And I’d been far too tempted to actually believe in his words.
I slide off the counter and hurry back to my bedroom. Because that felt perilously close to breaking rule number one.
No emotions.