Chapter 22 #2
She exhales like it’s a cleanse. “Papa never asked me to come back. I’d call—on his birthday, mine, Christmas. We’d talk for five minutes, tops. Just the basics. Never once did he say, ‘Come home, Aria.’” Her voice is barely above a whisper now, her words laced with grief. “If he had, I would’ve.”
Beneath the strength she wears like armor, there’s still a small girl.
Behind the grit is a child whose shoulders are slumped in defeat because she wasn’t chosen.
“I was afraid to come without him asking. I was afraid he’d reject me. I’m such a coward.”
“No.” I take her chin in my hand so she has to look at me. “You’re not a coward. You’re a warrior. You’re smart. You’re strong. You’re not scared of hard work. I’m proud of you. And I’m so fuckin’ sorry for my hurtful words.”
Her lower lip wobbles, and she indeed looks like Joy used to when she was a kid, right before she burst into tears.
“You are doin’ something hard, and you’re doin’ it with heart. You’re somethin’ else, darlin’.”
Disbelief flickers in her gaze.
“They were all fools,” I continue, softly. “Your father was wrong. He suffered for it. His will is evidence of that. And Hudson? That guy has the integrity of slime.”
“I always feel like I’m not enough.”
“You are more than enough. For anyone.” For me!
I dip my mouth to hers.
“Maverick,” she whispers.
“Let me taste you.”
She grabs the front of my shirt and crashes her lips into mine.
Her tongue is in my mouth before I can even think, hot and wet and demanding.
I groan into her, my hands sliding up her sides, feeling the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts under her button-down.
When I pull away, my hands stay on her breasts. “I want to see.”
She nods and, slowly, as she watches me, unbuttons her shirt.
Fuck!
Her bra is the color of her skin. I flick the front clasp open. She gasps.
Her tits are perfect—full and round, her nipples hard and begging for my mouth.
I don’t make her wait.
I latch onto one, sucking hard. She moans like a siren, her fingers tangling in my hair.
“Maverick,” she breathes, her voice husky and broken.
I lift my head and look at her nipple, wet and puckered. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
“Me too,” she whimpers.
“Yeah?” I growl, my teeth grazing her nipple.
She doesn’t answer with words; instead, she cups me.
I’m not a teenager by a long shot, and yet, I’m at risk of coming in my jeans.
She unzips me and caresses me through my boxers. I help her, bring me out, and when skin touches skin, I groan.
The stone mesa we’re sitting on is not designed for making love, but we’re making the best of it.
I open her jeans and, looking into her eyes, feel her moist, damp…ready.
“You’re so wet,” I murmur as I circle her clit.
Without warning, I push two fingers inside her, making her cry out. I place one hand on the small of her back to hold her still as I finger fuck her.
Her small hands are pumping me, but she’s losing focus. I can feel her cunt squeeze my fingers.
“You gonna come for me, Aria?”
“Yes…please.”
I add another finger. Her pussy stretches around me, slick, hungry, greedy.
Her hand is yanking, pulling, stroking my cock.
She’s not practiced. There’s an innocence about how she touches me—an inexperience, but there’s also need and passion and desire.
I brush against the swollen nub of her clitoris. She begins to whimper.
“Tell me what you want, darlin’.” I’m losing the plot.
She may not be practiced at giving a hand job, but her exuberance, her wetness, the sounds she makes are all pushing me to the edge.
I can’t remember the last time a woman got me this worked up this quickly, this easily.
“Make me come,” she pleads.
I move my fingers in and out of her. First soft, then rough, and then hard. Her body begins to shake, and her hand on me stills, which is a good thing ‘cause I’m about to come.
I slow down.
“Look at me,” I mutter as I feel her getting closer. “I want to see you when you go over.”
I rub and tease and torture.
I don’t know why I once thought she was cold because right now I can see everything she’s feeling in her expressive eyes. She’s surprised at how aroused she is.
Welcome to the club, darlin’!
She’s excited.
She’s aroused.
She’s past giving a damn about logic, and the need to orgasm is riding her.
She’s fire.
When she explodes, her insides quivering, I bring her close, murmuring softly. I give in to my desire to comfort and protect her.
I kiss her mouth.
She looks at me with languid eyes, a smile playing on her lips. Her hand is still on me, spreading my precum on the head of my erection.
She moves away, and before I can collect myself, she maneuvers herself so her mouth wraps around me in one smooth motion.
Jesus!
Her tongue swirls around the head.
I see stars.
She takes me deeper, her throat working around me. I can’t help but thrust up into her wet heat.
It’s not the most comfortable way to get a blow job, but with how she’s working me, I’d let her take me while I’m standing on hot coals.
She runs her tongue along my shaft, licking precum. She holds my balls, squeezes gently, and starts to suck in earnest.
Seeing her head on my lap, my cock in her mouth is erotic as fuck.
“You gonna swallow me down, Aria,” I order hoarsely.
She nods but doesn’t let go.
I explode in her mouth, our position is awkward, but there’s nothing unappealing about her licking my cock clean after she sucks me dry.
Both of us are breathing hard, our skin slick with sweat.
I hold her, wanting the closeness of contact after the mind-blowing sexual one we just had.
Aria’s head rests on my chest. I can feel her heart racing against mine.
I could get used to this.
She raises her head and looks at me like a cat who got the cream.
I run a finger down her cheek. “Next time, we’re doing this in a bed.”
“You think there’s goin’ to be a next time?” she teases cheekily.
I want to joke as well, but I can’t. This moment is bigger than I thought it would be.
More intimate.
More precious.
Perfect.
“Yes, Aria, there are going to be many, many next times.” I pause, hold her gaze so she knows where I’m coming from, how serious I am. “You have a problem with that?”
She seems frozen in the moment—but only for a moment.
Then she smiles. “No, Maverick, I don’t have a problem with that.”