Chapter 18 - Eredine
EREDINE
I’d woken up an hour before my alarm, worrying that Arran might not show. Ignoring my feelings about that potential outcome, I spent the extra hour getting ready, so I had time for a protein shake and an attempt to read some chapters of my latest book.
My gaze kept flicking to my phone, however, and now and then, I’d wake the screen to check the clock. That tick became more frequent the closer to six thirty it got.
Then my pulse leapt at the sound of a car engine in the distance. I wanted to jump up and peer out my window. Instead, I opened the house security app on my phone and tapped the front porch camera.
Arran’s SUV appeared out of the trees a few seconds later and stopped behind my car.
Relief, excitement, trepidation, worry … a gamut of emotions coursed through me at the sight of Arran Adair jumping out of his vehicle. Closing the app, I got up off the couch just as he approached the front door and rang the bell.
Taking a deep breath, I moved to the door calmly and cursed the slight tremble of thrill in my belly as I pulled it open.
He stood before me in his regular workout uniform of fitted T-shirt, sweatpants, and running shoes.
And my senses immediately overwhelmed me as I recalled the feel of his hard pecs brushing against my breasts, the taste of his damp, hot skin on my lips, the smell of his cologne mingled with the scent of sex.
I remembered the way he’d held my gaze as he moved inside me and how it had felt more right to be connected to him than any boyfriend from my past.
It was terrifying.
A giant red flag.
Yet whatever Arran saw on my expression, it made him charge into the house, slam the door closed behind him, and lift me like I weighed nothing onto my dining table.
In shock, I moved to push against his chest, and he wrapped his hands around my wrists and held them to him instead. His azure eyes blazed.
“You want a workout this morning, Ery?” he asked gruffly. “We don’t need to leave the house for that.”
“Arran—” I cut off as he released me, but only to whip off his T-shirt.
His chest rose and fell a little faster as he gripped my thighs and spread me as he pulled me into him.
I gasped, resting my hands on his yummy pecs for balance. “Arran?”
He searched my face. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every second of every hour since the wee hours of Friday morning.”
At the feel of his arousal pressed to my core, all rational thinking fled me. I wanted to feel. I wanted more. Because the truth was, my night with Arran was the first time in eight years that I’d felt fully awake. Alive.
In answer, I reached for the short hem of my sports tank and pulled it off, throwing it over Arran’s shoulder. His gaze dipped to my bare breasts for a few hot seconds and then returned to my eyes.
Then his mouth crashed down on my mine in a hungry, sexy-as-hell kiss. I slid my arms around his back, my fingers digging into his warm muscles as he devoured me. His fingertips trailed over the tops of my thighs as he moved between my legs.
Soon the kiss was out of control, wild and hurried, as he dug into the waistband of my yoga pants.
Following his lead, I lifted my ass up off the table to aid him in yanking them down.
Arran pulled off my sneakers and then the yoga pants were gone and I was in nothing but my teeny-tiny undies.
Arran caressed my legs all the way back up, pushing between them again as he studied every inch of me with that smoldering expression that made my belly clench deep with want.
“Arran,” I whispered.
His eyes traveled up my naked breasts to my face, and he confessed hoarsely, “Every time I see you, you’re more beautiful than the last time. How is that possible?”
An aching flare of emotion resonated inside me.
I didn’t want to deal with it. Instead, I reached for him, caressing every ripple and hard muscle of his torso.
Arran’s hands settled on my waist, his eyes low-lidded as he let me touch him.
Then, just as I dipped to cup him, he wrapped his hand around my nape and kissed me again.
Then his lips were gone.
“Arran,” I protested, but he gave a slight shake of his head before he tugged me gently, my ass almost hanging off the table.
Then he lowered his face between my legs, and my head fell back in a groan as he pressed soft, teasing kisses along my inner right thigh.
I jerked at the touch of his mouth against my sex.
He blew the cotton of my underwear against me, and I shuddered.
“You’re ready for me, Ery, aren’t you?” His voice was thick as he curled a finger around the material, brushing me. “Do you want my mouth?”
“What do you think?” I huffed, pushing my hips toward him.
I felt his chuckle against my skin. “I remember you being a little more patient the other night.”
“Then you remembered wrong.” I opened my eyes. “Please.”
His expression turned tender. “Fuck,” he whispered. “For the rest of my life, all you’ll have to do is say that word, and I’ll be putty in your hands.”
My heart lurched. “Arran—oh!” I fell back on my hands as he roughly ripped my underwear down my legs. I barely had time to think before Arran was pressing my thighs apart again.
Then his mouth was finally on me.
“Oh, Lord,” I whimpered, leaning back as he licked at me, his tongue flicking and tormenting my clit. “Arran, please.”
I could feel it building, my muscles trembling and tightening.
And then two fingers pushed inside me.
He sucked and licked and slid his fingers in and out. I was heading for the cliff’s edge. I stiffened and then fell over, crying out his name as my inner muscles clamped around his fingers in a hard climax.
Arran stood, only to lean down into me, wrapping his arms around my waist so he could gather me against him.
I lifted my legs around his hips and clung to him as he kissed me, the taste of me on his tongue, moving against mine in hard, quick strokes.
The kiss was so desperate it almost brought tears to my eyes.
Breaking the kiss, Arran’s hot lips trailed down my neck. I arched my back, wanting his mouth on me everywhere.
The heat of insatiability set the languid aftermath of my climax alight as Arran cupped and stroked and kissed my breasts, learning every inch of them all over again.
He then closed his mouth around my nipple and tugged, sucked, and licked it until it was so swollen, it was tender.
He moved to the other until my legs were climbing his hips.
I writhed against his erection, desperate for him to take me.
“I need you,” I moaned. “Arran, I need you.”
He kissed me, fierce, hungry, one hand under my ass urging me up against him as he ground between my legs, the friction of his sweatpants over my sex building me toward climax again.
I gasped into his kiss as his other hand moved to my hair.
I could tell he wanted to release it from the pins, but there were too many holding my curls, and I was too impatient to wait.
Apparently, so was Arran.
My eyes opened as he released me to grab a condom out of his wallet and then push down his sweatpants and boxer briefs. He hurriedly, almost comically, kicked off his sneakers, his cock hard. In seconds, he sheathed himself and then he was hot and throbbing and ready for me.
I looked down, feeling a sudden roar of fire lick up from my heels, shooting through my whole body at the sight of him. He wasn’t overly long, but he was thick, and I remembered the delicious fullness of him inside me. I needed him like I needed oxygen.
I licked my lips.
“Fuck, Ery,” Arran breathed against my mouth as he pressed his forehead to mine.
I kissed him, my tongue flicking against his lips. I took the steely heat of him in my hands and squeezed, and Arran kissed me harder, gasping and panting, as I stroked him with one hand and dug my fingers into his ass with the other, urging him to me.
I guided his tip to my entrance and smoothed my hand up his rigid stomach.
With our lips still touching, our eyes met and held.
Arran gripped my hips and pushed inside.
My eyes fluttered closed at the satisfying burn that quickly gave way to an exciting fullness.
“Ery, open your eyes,” he demanded.
I did, holding his ardent gaze.
“Keep your eyes open.” He thrust deeper. “Keep your eyes on me.”
He tilted my hips as he slid in and out of me slowly. I trembled against him as he took pleasure in taking his time, and I marveled at how safe I felt with him. I was more vulnerable than a person could be, and yet with him, I felt not just protected but … free.
I fought hard against a sudden onslaught of tears and closed my eyes against them.
“Ery. Your eyes. Please,” he begged, his deep voice strained with desire.
My eyes flew open for him.
“There you are. You feel amazing,” he huffed against my lips, a small, amazed smile curling his mouth.
I moved against his thrusts. “You feel wonderful too.”
“Ery.” His grip tightened, his eyes blazing into mine. “Eredine.”
“Arran,” I whimpered back as he thrust at just the right angle to brush my clit with his movements.
“Fuck.” He pumped harder, faster.
It built again, and I shuddered against him in little jerks.
“Come for me,” he commanded, gruff with need. “Come around me.”
That soft demand, just as it had been before, was my trigger.
I cried out his name, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I clenched around his driving cock, and I lost his eyes as I threw my head back in euphoria.
As I pulsed around him, Arran held me as his rhythm increased. A few seconds later, his face pressed against my neck, he stiffened, and groaned my name. His hips jerked against mine, and I felt the throb of his release inside me.
I held on to him as we tried to catch our breaths. My skin was slick against his, my breasts crushed into his pecs, and we were as close to each other as we could get. I squeezed my thighs around his hips, reveling in this delicious aftermath.
Don’t panic, I coached myself. You’re still in control. You can have this with him and have it not be complicated. This is Arran. You can trust him to keep it uncomplicated.
Before I could voice the reminder of what this was between us, he swept me into his arms and carried me into the bedroom.
He laid me gently, almost reverently, down on my bed. I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. “While I grab the condoms from the dining table, why don’t you take your hair down?”
My skin flushed at his intentions. “Arran, is this a good idea?”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to stop. Do you? And be honest.”
I took a deep breath, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but wanting to give him the honesty he’d asked for. “I don’t want to stop, but I still don’t want a relationship, so where does that leave us?”
Arran contemplated me a few seconds before he offered, “I propose a casual affair. No one needs to know. We stop when one or both of us decide we’re done.
No promises, no commitment. But we only agree to it if we promise to remain friends after.
I don’t want to lose you. And no seeing anyone else while we’re doing this. ”
My breathing grew shallow at the idea of losing Arran’s friendship.
But I also knew I wasn’t done craving this closeness between us.
It was exhilarating, and I was addicted to this new sensation.
It was like I’d been living with all my senses turned down to fifty percent.
Arran had come along and turned the dial until I was feeling and smelling and hearing and tasting and seeing everything at a level I’d forgotten existed.
I didn’t want to lose that either.
As for the latter rule, that wouldn’t be a problem for me.
I nodded. “Okay. Let’s agree to that.”
Arran’s expression darkened with satisfaction. “Hair down,” he repeated. “I’ll be back in a few seconds.”
“It’ll take me more than a few seconds,” I grumbled, sitting up. “I’ll just leave it up so we can get to the good times faster.”
“Please.” He smoldered at me.
I flushed under the heat of his stare but rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
Sure enough, when he returned, I was still sitting on the edge of the bed pulling out pins.
Arran laughed and sat beside me to help. I caught our reflection in the vanity mirror, and a smile tugged at my lips at the sight of us completely naked, taking hairpins out of my hair.
“By the time we’re done here, my balls will be blue,” Arran said teasingly.
“I told you. But you’re the one who insisted.”
“I love your hair.” He pressed a kiss to my lips and then whispered in my ear, “I love it wrapped around my fist as I fuck you.”
My breathing stuttered as I met his eyes in the mirror.
No one had ever talked to me so crudely in the bedroom as Arran.
Yet, surprisingly, it worked. It worked big-time.
I guessed because it didn’t seem crude, it just seemed intense and visceral.
He chuckled as I hurried to release my hair, and once that last pin was out, I lunged, taking him to his back.
Arran’s laughter filled my bedroom, but as my lips found every line and curve on his body, his laughter turned to desperate groans.
And we were lost inside each other.
Anyone might have called the cell phones we’d left out in the living room, but we’d never know. We only stopped to use the bathroom and grab snacks.
For the first time in my life, I spent an entire day and night in bed, sometimes talking about our lives without delving too deeply, but mostly savoring each other’s bodies and competing to give the other the most orgasms.
It was surreal.
It was mind-blowing.
It was a day I’ll never, ever forget.