32. Cora
32
CORA
“ W ould you like a tour?” Aiden asked as we stumbled through the door of his penthouse apartment, wrapped up in each other, our lips hardly parting.
I chuckled. “Has something changed in my absence?”
“Just in case you wanted to jog your memory of the place.”
“I feel like I can figure out my way around.”
“Are you sure?” he said, his tone teasing as he held my jaw in his hands, kissing me so hard I thumped against the wall next to the door.
“You’re making me dizzy,” I whispered.
“Good.” He took my purse from my shoulder, dropping it on the floor next to the door.
I toed out of my shoes, stringing my arms around his neck as he backed me into the kitchen. “Hungry?” I asked.
“Only for you,” he said, whirling me around, pressing me up against the counter. His hands brushed down my sides, settling at my waist as he leaned against me, his weight warm and intoxicating. “I just wanted to remind you how lovely the kitchen is when you’re begging me to come.”
I groaned, squirming back against his erection. I remembered begging for his touch, our breakfast burning, neither of us caring. I turned in his arms, kissing him, letting him suck my tongue between his lips.
“And here,” he said, leading me into the living room.
The back of my legs bumped against the couch, and I sat with him kneeling between my legs. I caught his head in my hands, threading my fingers through his curls.
“We’ve had some good times on this couch,” he said, pressing a kiss to each of my jean-clad thighs.
My heart galloped in my chest, heat pooling between my legs. I pressed my head into the cushions. “It’s a nice couch,” I agreed. “Very comfortable.”
“Excellent views,” he said, getting up suddenly and spinning me around so I could see the sunset colors stretched across the city. He pressed his hand to my throat, stroking his thumb along my fluttering pulse point. His other hand palmed my breast through my shirt.
I moaned his name, my mind caught up in all the memories while desperate to make more. I wanted to fall into the sensations that rippled through me at his touch, at the sound of his voice…at knowing he’d come back. That he wanted this— us . Knowing that he was willing to work on himself so he could be everything I deserved. My chest ached with love and desire and need. How had I managed to be separated from him for this long? How had I ever thought I was over him this time?
“What do you want, Cora?”
“No more teasing.” I pressed my ass against his crotch, insistent.
He took my hand then, guiding me down the hall to his bedroom. We paused once, and he pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. When he was done, I trailed my hands beneath his shirt, feeling along the planes of muscle. He flinched.
“Cold hands,” he whispered, lifting them to press a kiss to each of my knuckles before we slipped through the door of his room.
“No bathroom tour?” I teased as he tugged me toward the bed.
He smirked. “We haven’t done it in there yet.”
“And that’s a shame. I’d really been hoping for a warm soak with you deliciously naked and soaped up.”
“Is that where you want to start?”
“Later,” I whispered, popping open the clasp of my bra. In seconds, we were both naked, our bodies pressed together on the bed. The teasing tone was gone, replaced by a heady mix of desperation and desire as I ran my hands over exposed skin, touching and kissing until the delicious ache inside me became unbearable. Aiden rolled me over and buried his head between my thighs.
“God, Aiden,” I cried, almost bucking him off as his tongue darted over my clit again and again.
“Yes?” he said, readjusting.
“Good,” I managed to say. “It’s good.”
“I’m aiming for great here.”
I let out a breathy little laugh until he sucked at my clit, and I lost all ability to do anything but moan, my eyes fluttering closed. It was too much and not enough all at once. My fingernails dug into his shoulder blades. “Yes… yes .”
“Are we entering great territory yet?”
“Keep going.”
He pulled back, replacing his tongue with his fingers, rubbing perfect circles around my clit which had my back arching off the bed. “You didn’t answer my question.” His fingers slowed.
I tightened my hold on his hair. “Don’t stop. Please. I swear to—” He laid the flat of his tongue against me again, and I squirmed, gasping for breath as he slipped one finger into me, then two, pumping his hand.
“I want to feel you come,” he said, timing his thrusts with the movement of my hips. Everything lined up perfectly—the movement of his tongue and the stretch of his fingers—and suddenly I was coming, my entire body clenching as wave after wave of delicious pleasure coursed through me.
“That’s it,” he said, brushing his thumb over my too-sensitive clit. I squirmed, shaking my head, but I was too horny to pull away, too desperate for more. “I’ll be gentle—nice and easy,” he promised, crawling up my body. He kept coaxing me with his fingers, and I felt the pleasure building again. I’d never come twice this fast before. The feeling was overwhelming and a little frightening, and yet I wanted it. Soon, I was flying over the edge, my back arched off the bed, the sound of my cries echoing in the room as he dragged the second orgasm from me.
I held him, coming down from the high as he pressed soft kisses against my hair.
“I missed this,” he said.
A laugh crawled up my throat. “The sex?”
“Holding you,” he corrected me.
My heart clenched. “I missed this too.”
“I mean it, Cora. I was a fool to let you go. I want you to know that’s never going to happen again.”
I rolled against his chest, tucking myself into his arms. His erection pressed against my belly, and another wave of desire swirled inside me even as his words stirred heavy emotions. I’d told myself that this could never be, that love didn’t last, and yet here it was, persevering despite everything. I kissed him, putting everything I felt into the kiss, and he kissed me back. There was no sense of urgency in it, despite his desire. He was clearly enjoying our slow reconnection.
“I’m going to be someone you can trust,” he promised.
“I’m glad you’re willing to work on yourself, on us.”
“You deserve the best version of me,” he said.
“I do,” I said. “And maybe together we can figure out ways to make sure our relationship doesn’t go off the rails in the future. I think therapy is a good start.”
He nodded. “Maybe we could even do therapy together—build from a strong foundation.”
I smiled, liking the sound of that and appreciating his dedication to making sure we were solid going forward. “I think it’ll help.”
He grinned. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”
“Thank you for not giving up on us.” I threaded my fingers through his. “And I want you to promise me that if you do start struggling with your feelings again, you’ll tell me. I don’t want you keeping things from me, leaving me to be blindsided later.”
“I don’t want that either.” He kissed my forehead. “I promise.”
“Good.”
“In fact,” his smile turned devious, “I promise to share all of my feelings with you.”
“Is that so?” I giggled at the growl in his voice.
“Yes. For example, I’m feeling like I need to kiss you here,” he said, stroking my collarbone before leaving a hot kiss in his finger’s wake. “And here,” he said, stroking his finger between my breasts. “And here.” He bent and pressed a kiss to my belly button.
“That’s a lot of feelings,” I said. “How will we possibly manage?”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. His kisses trailed lower, and my eyes fluttered closed in response. “Together.”