Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
AIDAN
We find ourselves in an open space surrounded by a semicircle of tall flowering shrubs and covered by the shade of several large trees.
Soft rays of light stream between the overhead branches, filtering the street lights standing on the other side of the tall wall.
It’s our own secret garden, but there’s no time to appreciate it because Morgan is pulling me to her, wedging herself between my body and the wall, holding me to her with a leg wrapped around my ass.
I brace myself from falling into her by planting a hand on either side of her head. “Someone’s eager.” My voice is teasing, but there’s a question in there too.
She said this wasn’t going to happen again, and now she’s offering herself up to me.
Mentally, I’m running through the drinks she had at dinner and the club, trying to figure out if she’s drunk.
She seems maybe a little tipsy, but she ate a full meal with those two drinks at dinner, and only had the one at the club, so I’m pretty sure she’s making coherent choices right now.
“So eager,” she purrs as she fists my collar and pulls my face to hers. “This is the last chance we have. If we do see each other again after this, it’ll be at some awkward family dinner or something.”
“I think we both know there will be no family dinners.”
Tonight, we should have toasted to our parents’ impending divorce. It may be months away, but the way they were bickering in the hotel room when I stopped by before dinner made it seem like they might already be laying the groundwork.
“Good, then fuck me like this is goodbye.”
I don’t know why that request makes me angry. Maybe it’s because there have been too damn many goodbyes over the years, and not enough people who stay. But Morgan was never going to be someone who’d remain in my life, and there’s no way this could ever be more than the vacation fling it is.
I don’t even know anything about her besides the fact that the sex is fantastic and being around her makes me .
. . happy? But she’s kept some distance intentionally, and maybe that’s what pisses me off—that I might be open to more, might want to see her again, while she clearly isn’t of the same mindset?
Doesn’t matter, you’re supposed to be focusing on nothing but hockey this season, I remind myself. No distractions.
She pulls me to her, closing the small gap between our bodies, and I channel all my frustration into that kiss, into the way I aggressively tug at the fabric of her slinky dress where it clings to her hips, sliding it up to her waist, into the way my fingers move her soaked thong to the side so they can trace the silky skin between her legs.
And when she moans into my mouth, the feeling reverberates in my throat and sends me right over the edge of my own control.
My body acts on instinct as I pull the strap of her dress and bra down over one shoulder so her breast springs free, then bend to lavish attention on her nipple while my fingers sink into her wet cunt.
She lets out a guttural moan in response, and it’s too loud in the quiet night.
I glance up, giving her a warning look and mumbling, “Quiet.”
“I need you inside me,” she whispers. “I want to come on your cock, not your fingers.”
I’m about to ask Why not both? when voices approach from the other side of the wall, and I realize that we probably shouldn’t spend too much time out here.
“Hands on the wall, spread your legs,” I whisper against her cheek.
“Yes, sir.” She says it playfully, like she did earlier on the boat, but there’s nothing playful about my body’s response.
My dick throbs against my zipper. As I fish a condom out of my wallet, she turns, spreading her legs as she bends forward slightly, planting her hands on the stucco wall.
There’s just enough light that the tan lines from her bikini bottom are visible as she tilts her peach-shaped ass up.
God, there’s so many things I want to do with her, but there’s no time to explore her body.
The drag of my zipper is audible in the quiet moment we’ve carved out under these trees, and I roll the condom on in what has to be record time.
But our quiet is interrupted as more voices pass by on the other side of the wall, and that’s its own kind of thrill.
Fisting myself in one hand, I lean forward so my upper body is along hers, my chin resting on her shoulder as I plant my hand above hers on the wall.
I trail the tip of my cock along her slit until I’m rubbing it against her clit.
Her resulting whimper is quiet and I can tell she’s holding in sounds that, in any other situation, I’d want to hear.
“How hard do you want to come?” My breath trails along the shell of her ear and her body convulses in a shiver.
“So hard.” Her voice is barely audible.
“You going to be able to keep quiet for me?” I ask, increasing the pressure on her clit as I slide the head of my cock back and forth over it.
“Yes.” The word is a breathy sigh leaving her lips. “Please, Danny . . . ”
I almost correct her, almost insist she use my full name and not my childhood nickname, because there’s nothing childish about the way I want to fuck her right now.
But then she whimpers, “Please . . .” and the way my dick aches to feel her again supersedes any desire to get into a conversation about my name.
I push off the wall and use one hand to hold her hips in place while I line myself up with her entrance, and then I thrust into her hard and deep.
She gasps quietly at the invasion, so I pause, giving her a moment to adjust while I drag the other side of her dress and bra down to free both of her tits.
I pluck at her nipples, and her hips press back into me, her core clenching around my length.
“That’s right,” I whisper. “You can take it.”
“Yes,” she hisses out.
I pull back and slam into her, setting a punishing pace that has her gasping quietly with each thrust, but the way her body is moving in rhythm with mine, meeting me each time, tells me those aren’t gasps of pain.
I move one of my hands to her neck, sliding my palm up until my splayed fingers and thumb press into the space beneath her jaw.
I pause, leaning into her and pressing my lips to the back of her head as I whisper, “I’m going to make you come so hard, you’ll see stars.”
She turns her head to glance over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are wide and her black pupils have nearly overtaken her blue irises. She licks her lips as she gazes at me and nods.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” I say as she turns to face the wall again, then tilts her pelvis to give me even better access while she clenches her core around me.
I stand fully, giving myself some space between our bodies so I can focus on giving her that orgasm she’s so desperate for.
I’ve never had this much of a physical connection with anyone.
And I can’t get enough of her feistiness and the way our conversation flows naturally when it’s just the two of us.
I want more time with her because it feels like this could develop into more than just sex, if the circumstances were different.
But they aren’t.
With one hand gripping her neck and the other still toying with a nipple, I pull out and push back into her, setting a slightly slower pace and focusing on hitting that spot inside her that I know will drive her wild.
I can tell when I’ve found it by the way a soft moan rattles against my palm, and that’s when I add some pressure around her neck.
She hisses out a “yes,” and I smile at the satisfaction of knowing her body this well already—knowing what will feel good, knowing that she trusts me to deliver.
Her entire body is moving in tandem with mine as she pushes herself back toward me with each thrust of my cock along the slick walls of her pussy, and I can already tell she’s chasing her orgasm.
I know it in the way she huffs out a breath with each stroke of me inside her and the way every muscle in her legs and ass are flexed.
Tightening the pressure on her neck just slightly has her arching her back and moaning against my palm, so I bring my other hand from her breast to her mouth, pushing two fingers in.
She sucks them in greedily, sweeping her tongue around them.
My balls tighten in response, and I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer.
I move my fingers to her clit, sweeping them over and around the swollen bundle of nerves until her legs are shaking. Then, I fuck her hard and fast, keeping the pressure on her clit until she’s bucking wildly against me as I release the pressure on her neck, letting her gasp in oxygen.
“Oh fuck,” she whispers, followed by a groaned out “Yes!” that’s too loud given the people that we’ve heard walking along the wall or up the driveway to the hotel.
Her legs are shaking so violently that I’m half afraid she’s going to collapse, so I wrap my other arm around her waist to hold her up as I bury myself inside her.
I come so fast and hard that I have to hold in my groan as I watch her turn her head to the side and bite her own arm to keep herself quiet while her core squeezes me over and over, pulling out every drop of my release.
When we finish, we both slump forward. Her head rests on her forearms where they’re folded against the wall, and my forehead rests on her shoulder.
“Holy shit.” Any other words are lost—the kind that could tell her how amazing that felt, how I’ve never had a connection like that with anyone else, how perfect she is.
But then she sighs and says, “That was . . . fun. But it’s probably good we’re never going to see each other again.”
Ouch. I know we only ever intended for this to be a vacation fling, but after the feelings I was just having as we finished, it stings.
I’m about to ask why it’s good we’re never going to see each other again when she adds, “I’m not sure I could look you in the eye after what you just did to my body.”
I slip out of her, quickly removing the condom and tucking myself back into my pants. Then I turn her toward me and back her against that wall, leaning in close. “Like hell you can’t.”
She rests her head against the wall, gazing up at me. “You know what I mean.” She starts to look away but my hand is already on the side of her face, guiding her back to look me in the eye.
“No, I don’t,” I growl out the words. Is she upset? Did I hurt her? “So please explain.”
“That was . . . amazing. But the way I was just so desperate for you is—”
“Also amazing.”
“I was going to say ‘a little embarrassing.’”
I slide my palm along her jaw and sweep my thumb along the ridge of her cheek. Her skin is flushed, I can feel the heat pouring off her, and I don’t know if it’s from the orgasm or whatever embarrassment she’s feeling. “Why the fuck would you be embarrassed by great sex?”
“I don’t know,” she says, but even in the soft filtered light streaming through the branches above us, I notice her cheeks flame.
Has someone made her feel ashamed of the way her body responds during sex?
“Morgan, the way you respond to me is why the sex is so good.” I bend my head forward, letting my forehead rest on the top of hers when I admit, “The best I’ve ever had.”
“Me too,” she whispers, and I hate the sad notes I hear in her voice.
“But now we’re both leaving. Speaking of which,” she says, moving her head so I have to lift mine as she pulls the straps of her dress up over her shoulders, then reaches down to fix her thong before sliding her dress back down over her hips, “walk me back to the hotel?”
I clear my throat to try to rid it of the lump that’s forming there. I’m never emotional like this, especially not about women. I should be glad we’re going our separate ways. Things would be too messy otherwise, and I don’t do messy.
“Yeah, of course.” My voice is rough as I turn away, hoping the disappointment isn’t evident on my face.