Chapter 13
His words unlock something inside me. Under his skilled tongue, the pleasure builds to a crescendo I can't fight.
My thighs begin to tremble, my fingers clutching the bed frame so tightly my knuckles turn white.
The tension coils tighter, winding me up until I'm balanced on the edge of something magnificent and terrifying.
When release finally comes, it crashes through me like a wave breaking against the shore.
I cry out, my body arching as pleasure radiates outward from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes.
For a moment, I'm floating, disconnected from everything except the exquisite sensations washing through me.
"That's it," Aiden murmurs against my thigh, pressing gentle kisses there as I shudder through the aftershocks. "So beautiful when you let go."
I'm still trembling when he moves up my body, his weight settling over me like a protective blanket. His lips find mine, and I taste myself on his tongue, a primal intimacy that makes me moan softly against his mouth.
"How do you feel?" he asks, brushing hair from my face with gentle fingers.
"Alive," I whisper.
The word feels insufficient. It's more than just being alive. It's like I've been underwater for months, lungs burning, vision clouded, and now I've finally broken the surface and taken that first desperate gulp of air.
Aiden's weight above me is anchoring, not crushing. His blue eyes search mine, looking for any sign of distress or regret. But there is none. Only wonder at how something that was twisted into a weapon against me can be reclaimed as something beautiful.
"You can let go of the headboard now," he says, his voice gentle.
I release my grip, flexing my fingers to restore circulation. My arms feel heavy as I lower them, wrapping them around his shoulders instead. The solid warmth of him against me feels like safety.
"Was that okay?" he asks, studying my face with careful attention.
A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me—genuine, surprised. "More than okay," I say, the words feeling inadequate. "That was... I didn't know it could be like that."
His smile is tender as he brushes his thumb across my cheekbone. "It's about trust, Lana. About knowing your boundaries will be respected."
I turn my face to kiss his palm, overwhelmed by emotions I can't quite name.
This man has shown me more kindness and understanding in weeks than I've experienced in what feels like a lifetime.
The contrast between what happened at the facility and what's happening here in my bedroom makes my throat tight.
"What are you thinking?" Aiden asks, his weight shifting slightly above me.
"That I didn't think I could feel this way again," I whisper. "Safe. Whole."
Something flashes in his eyes—a warmth that makes my heart stutter. "You're stronger than you know." He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. "And braver than most."
I feel his hardness against my thigh, a reminder that he hasn't found his own release. "What about you?" I ask, sliding my hands down his back.
"This was for you," he says simply. "We don't need to rush anything else."
The consideration in his words makes something warm bloom in my chest. His words touch me in a way I don't expect, stirring something deeper than physical pleasure. I trace my fingers along his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath my touch.
"I want more," I whisper. "I want to feel you."
Aiden studies my face, his gaze searching. "Are you certain?"
"Yes," I say, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. "I need this. I need you."
He kisses me then, deep and thorough, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that reignites the embers of desire. His weight shifts above me, and I feel him reaching for something in the pocket of his discarded pants.
"Protection," he murmurs against my lips.
The consideration makes me smile. Even now, he's thinking of my safety, my wellbeing. I watch as he tears open the foil packet and rolls the condom over his length. There's something vulnerable in this moment of preparation that makes my chest tighten with emotion.
When he settles between my thighs again, his eyes hold mine. "Tell me if you need to stop," he says, his voice rough with desire but clear with concern.
"I will," I whisper, though stopping is the furthest thing from my mind. I want this connection, this reclaiming of something that was stolen from me.
Aiden positions himself at my entrance, the blunt head of him pressing against me without pushing in. "Look at me," he commands softly.
I meet his gaze, those blue eyes holding mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. When he finally begins to push inside, the stretch is exquisite—a fullness that makes me gasp. He moves slowly, giving me time to adjust to each inch, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Breathe," he reminds me, his voice strained with the effort of his control.
I inhale deeply, my body relaxing around him as he sinks deeper. There's no pain, only a delicious pressure that makes my toes curl. When he's fully seated within me, he pauses, his forehead coming to rest against mine.
"You feel incredible," he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips.
I wrap my legs around his hips, drawing him impossibly closer. "Move," I whisper, surprised by my own boldness. "Please, Sir."
Aiden's eyes darken at my request, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he begins to move. His first thrust is gentle, controlled, but when I gasp and arch beneath him, something shifts in his expression. His next movement is deeper, more confident.
"Is this what you need?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me where our bodies connect.
"Yes," I breathe, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "Yes, Sir."