18. ARIES
18
ARIES
P lease .
The power of that one six-letter word, coming from a man like Mr Hawkston, is a force I cannot resist.
Alec watches me, no doubt hoping for an answer, but I confirm nothing, and although he looks confused when I get up and leave, he doesn’t stop me or press me for more information.
My heart pounds as I walk back across the lawn. Mr Hawkston is waiting for me. That terrifying man, with a perfect face and a sculpted body, who melted me with the most passionate kiss I’ve ever experienced, wants me to come back.
I don’t know what I’m walking into, but I know for sure I couldn’t walk away.
With each step closer to him, the tingling in my body increases. My lips throb, like they need to be kissed again, and arousal buzzes through me; an illicit pressure with no release valve.
At least not yet.
The house is quiet when I enter. There aren’t many lights on. The hall is dark, but there’s a glow falling across the floor that’s coming from the formal sitting room.
I’m insanely nervous. I’ve never felt like this; like every nerve ending in my body has been rubbed raw and left exposed, sparking into nothingness. There is no man in the world who has ever induced this delightfully toxic mix of fear, anticipation and arousal in me. I want it to last forever.
Mr Hawkston is sitting in a chair reading a book. I wonder how long he’s been there. He was upstairs with Lucie not long ago, but he looks so relaxed that if I hadn’t seen him on the monitor myself, I’d have been convinced he’d been here all evening.
He lays his book down on the table beside him and glances up at me. It’s a look that jolts against my body, making my breath catch in my throat. It was intense when we made eye contact before, but now it’s a fire that could burn me up from the inside because we both know what it means and where it leads.
We both know exactly why I’m here.
He's still wearing the white shirt and pale blue jeans he had on earlier. His dark hair is tousled. Did I do that?
He strokes his fingers over his bottom lip as he observes me, as if he’s remembering our kiss too. His forefinger pauses and tugs a little on that full lip, pulling it down so I can see the pink inside.
Want is scored across his dark irises. He stands and walks towards me. My heart constricts a little more with each of his steps until he’s right in front of me. I can hardly breathe.
He holds out his hand, and I place mine in it. His clasp is warm and gentle, almost tender. He leads me out of the room, towards the stairs.
He doesn't speak, but there's no need to. We’re united in whatever this is, and right now I’d follow him anywhere.
On the first floor, he stops outside the door to his suite and releases my hand. “Do you want to come in? I need to be sure, because if you say yes, it changes everything.”
“We’re way past the point of no return, Mr Hawkston.”
His eyes sparkle with amusement—it’s a good look on him. “It’s Matt. Call me Matt.”
I bite my bottom lip and smile at him. “Okay, Matt.” The name feels weird on my tongue, and he smiles as I say it, encouraging me. “If you think the way you kissed me earlier hasn’t already changed everything, you’re really underestimating your skills.”
He laughs quietly. The sound does strange things to my insides. “I’m not underestimating anything. I want your consent, that’s all.”
“You have it.”
He gives me a sexy smile that causes a rush of arousal to pulse between my legs. I’m already soaked, and he’s barely touched me.
He opens the door to let me into a large dressing room that’s bigger than my bedroom and Lucie’s together. A dim yellow light glows from beneath the dark wood doors of the wardrobes that line the room.
“Wow,” I say.
He follows me into the room, closes the door and the lock clicks in place, but he pauses a moment before he turns back to me, his hand on the handle. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but hesitation doesn’t feel like a good thing.
“Are you about to change your mind?” I question, words bubbling up before I can stop them. “Because if you are, I’ll have to resign. There’s only so much humiliation a girl can take.”
He spins to face me, and there is nothing appropriate about his heated gaze. “No.”
Relief floods me, and the anticipation of what’s about to happen is so sweet, I can almost taste it. Every inch of my body is alight, glowing from the inside. My skin is so sensitive that each rub of my clothes is abrasive.
Mr Hawkston steps closer, his eyes blazing with desire. No one has ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me now; it’s so raw, so intense. I’ve never felt more wanted.
He lifts my hair from my shoulder, his fingertips grazing my neck. “Can I?” he rasps.
“Anything. You can do anything,” I reply, and his exhale is a barely disguised laugh, but it doesn’t last long before he lowers his lips to the same spot and kisses me there, so gently and with such reverence that I can’t move. Lust is firing through me. I want so much more than he’s giving me, but at the same time I want to appreciate each thrill his touch elicits.
His lips move up my neck all the way to my jaw. He groans, and the rumble of it vibrates along the side of my face, sending a shiver of desire all the way down my spine. A breathy moan escapes me.
“Fuck.” He releases the word on a desperate sigh, as if this is more than he can handle. For a second, I worry he really will change his mind, but then he grabs me, harder than before, pulling me against him, pressing our bodies flush.
His lips crash against mine, and his kiss is ravenous. It’s both hard and soft at once, and if it’s possible, more charged than the first one. His hands are in my hair, cupping the back of my head, my neck, drawing me deeper into him. We kiss passionately for what feels like forever, but when we finally slow, I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and bite down on it gently. When I let go, a deep rumble vibrates in his throat.
“Shit,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin.
I cling to his broad shoulders, needing to catch my breath before I speak. “Are you going to swear all night?”
He shakes his head, and I can feel him smile against my mouth. “I’m encouraged that you’re planning on being here all night.” His hands slide down my back to grip the bottom of my tracksuit top. “But you’re wearing far too many clothes.”
I lift my arms to let him pull off my jumper, which he throws to the floor. Underneath, I’m wearing the skimpy pyjama top, without a bra. My breasts suddenly feel huge and sensitive against the cotton. My nipples are hard and easily visible and, as if he knows what I’m thinking, Mr Hawkston stares at my chest, a look of utter amazement on his face as he draws in a few slow breaths.
His gaze drifts upward to my face, his eyes widening just a fraction before his arm slides around my back and he’s pulling me towards him again, his mouth latching onto my hardened nipple through my top. He moans against my breast, and I feel it between my legs.
I gasp as his fingers dust against the skin of my stomach. He releases my nipple from his mouth so he can lift up my top and take it off. I raise my arms and he eases it over me. He flings it to the floor to join my jumper.
I’m topless for only a second before his mouth is on my other breast, sucking it into the warmth, flicking my nipple with his tongue, while his other hand gently kneads the flesh of my other breast. “These are beautiful,” he whispers, his voice sounding heavy with want.
My back arches, and a noise that can only be described as an erotic moan slides over my tongue, escaping between my lips.
His teeth graze the length of my hardened nipple, tugging on it. A shot of white-hot desire jolts right to my clit.
The attention he gives my breasts is the most exquisite foreplay, and the slickness between my legs increases.
I run my hand into his thick hair, dragging him off me. My breast leaves his mouth with a slick pop.
He looks up, a question in his eyes.
“I need more,” I almost beg.
“And you’ll get it,” he reassures me, his voice so low I could lick it off the floor. “But I want to appreciate every second of this.”
A flutter of unease breaks through my arousal. Does he want to savour this moment because it’s a one-time thing? Is this my only chance with this man? I hope not, because it feels like there is no end to my wanting him. If he denies me, I’ll never be able to satisfy this endless craving alone…
He draws me into another kiss. His fingers tease at the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, but he doesn’t pull them off or order me to. Instead, he slides his hand beneath them and my shorts, his fingers trailing through the hair. Fuck , I should have waxed.
I hold my breath, expecting some hesitation on his part. I bet his ex-wife was completely hair-free. Shit .
“What?” he asks, obviously sensing my tension.
“I didn’t wax.”
“Do you think I give a fuck about that?”
My clit throbs as his fingers graze over it, and then he goes deeper. His finger pushes inside me, sliding with ease, and I inhale sharply. He lets out the longest, deepest moan so far as his finger sinks to the knuckle.
Mr Hawkston’s mouth is on my neck again, pressing kisses up to my ear, sucking my earlobe between his lips as his finger thrusts in and out of me. The slick sounds of my pussy welcoming him fill the room. It’s so loud I’d be embarrassed if I cared. But I don’t, because my body has taken over, my hips thrusting against his hand as another finger joins the first.
“So wet, Aries. So fucking wet,” he groans in appreciation. “If I knew you wanted me this much, I’d have done this earlier.”
“I’ve only been here a few weeks. You couldn’t have done it much earlier.”
“I’d have taken you out there on the lawn when you first arrived.”
I giggle. “The sexy gardener thing really did it for me. I’d have said yes.”
“I know.”
His fingers curl against the perfect spot inside me as I grind against the heel of his hand, seeking my release. The pressure building in my core is so hot, so insistent, that I can’t hold it back.
I grip his shoulders, digging my fingers into his shirt as he finger-fucks me so perfectly that I’m a breath away from orgasm. “Oh, oh, fuck,” I cry. “So good, it’s so good. Don’t stop.”
I ride his hand unashamedly, chasing the orgasm that’s spreading from between my legs through my entire being. It bursts with a power that shakes my whole body, my feet lifting from the floor as Mr Hawkston holds my weight with his other arm.
That was fast.
I moan against his shoulder, gasping for breath as he continues to work me. The pleasure lasts longer than I’ve ever experienced, tingles spreading to my fingers and toes for what feels like minutes on end.
As the height of my orgasm ebbs, he strokes me more slowly, bringing me down until the post-orgasmic jerks running through me ease off and my breathing returns to normal.
I’m completely spent, hanging boneless in his arms.
“Thank you,” I murmur, the words little more than an exhalation against his chest.
“My absolute pleasure,” he replies. “But we’re not finished yet.”
He lifts me into his arms, and I bring my legs around his hips. His erection presses against me, and a shot of pleasure fills my core. I could come again in seconds. I’ve never been this turned on before.
He carries me into the bedroom, where there is the most enormous bed I’ve ever seen. The big bed. The sheets look like they’ve never been slept on. Does he have them changed every day, like he lives in a hotel? When he lies me down on them, they’re softer than any I’ve felt before.
“These sheets,” I purr, spreading my arms over them like I’m making a snow angel. “So soft.”
He smiles as he kneels at the end of the bed to remove my shoes and socks. He does it with such reverence—kissing my ankles, then the arches of my feet—that watching him is unmistakably sensual.
I can’t bear the tension. I’m so aroused I want to wriggle out of his grip, just so I can push him to the floor and straddle him, but before I can move, he yanks down my trousers and pyjama shorts. I raise my hips to let him slide them off, and he doesn’t take his eyes off me as he drops them in a heap on the floor.
I’m spread out on his bed, entirely naked, with nothing on me but the heat of his gaze. And it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
He stands at the end of the bed, dragging a hand through his hair as his gaze roves hungrily over my naked body. “I want to remember this forever. You’re so unbelievably beautiful. Where the fuck did you come from?”
I’ve never been looked at this way, and his handsome face displaying such awe is incredibly sexy, but the hint of disbelief there, as if there’s a chance I’m a figment of his imagination, makes me laugh, and he briefly closes his eyes.
“I love the sound of your laughter,” he tells me, a dazzling smile breaking over his face. “You always sound so happy.”
“I am happy.” I sit up and crawl towards him. His eyebrows rise, his irises twinkling with excitement. I rise up to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. His pecs are so defined, the ridges of his abs so perfect. I could play his torso like a musical instrument. For a few moments I stroke his tanned skin, kissing the muscles, flicking his nipples with my tongue. I can’t believe I’m doing this. His breaths are quick and shallow.
Then I sit back and tuck the tips of my fingers into the waistband of his trousers. “I want to see that beautiful dick of yours.”
He grants permission with a slight nod of his head. I loosen his belt, but he does the rest, removing his trousers and boxers in one swift motion.
His cock is huge and thick, and so fucking hard. The tip is already beading with pre-cum. It’s even more magnificent than it looked in the pool room.
“Wow. Your dick would make a perfect dildo.” He frowns, a confused smile tugging at his lips. I grin up at him. “I’d fuck myself with it every day.”
His mouth drops open. I think I’ve shocked him, just a tiny bit, and the idea thrills me.
Still kneeling on the bed, I lean forward and run my tongue along the underside of his cock until I reach the tip. I flutter my tongue there, tasting the pre-ejaculate. His cock jerks against my mouth and I take it deep inside. He groans, and I try to take more, but he’s too big. I fist my hand at the base, focusing my mouth on the tip, running my tongue over it, sucking on it like I want to inhale it. That he’s giving me unrestricted access to his body is exhilarating.
Mr Hawkston’s hands come to the back of my head, his fingers wrapping in my hair, but he doesn’t fuck my mouth, although I sense he wants to. He holds back, letting me pleasure him first.
“Wait.” I’m still bobbing my mouth up and down his hard dick, but his command makes me pause. “I want to come inside you,” he grits out. “The first time I come, I want it to be inside you.”
“You can come in my mouth,” I say.
There’s a spark of fire in his gaze at my words, but he shakes his head. “No. I want to come in that beautiful cunt.”
Wow . Hearing him put it like that has my pussy aching to be filled. I haven’t a single objection to anything this man might want to do. I crawl back up the bed and lie down. He follows me, nudging my legs apart with his until he settles between my thighs.
“I can’t promise I’ll last,” he says.
He reaches across me to get a condom from the top drawer of the bedside table, tears the packet open with his teeth and rolls it over his gorgeous cock. Then he lines his body up with mine, letting his dick slide up and down the lips of my wet pussy. It takes all my self control not to squirm with need.
He holds eye contact, propping himself up on one arm, his body hovering over mine. Glorious . “Ready?”
“Fuck, yes,” I mutter.
His mouth twitches with a tiny smile, and he nudges his tip inside me. I bite my lip as I feel the stretch, even from only a small part of him.
I shift my hips a little to encourage him. “You don’t need to be gentle,” I tell him, feeling desperate for all he has to give me. “You need to fuck me. Ruin me.”
“Ruin you?”
I nod. God, I want it so bad, so hard. If he holds back, it won’t be enough.
Still holding my gaze, he quirks an eyebrow and thrusts deep into me in one go. It’s pleasure and pain and everything I need all at once.
He pulls out again slowly, then pushes in again. I’m moaning, noises coming from my mouth I can’t control. I’ve never had a dick this big. It fills me in ways I never knew were possible. My orgasm builds in deep inside me, gathering intensity with each thrust.
The sounds of our bodies slamming together is an erotic cacophony that heightens my arousal.
And Mr Hawkston… his eyes… Never before has a man looked at me this way during sex, like he’s not only fucking my body but making love to my soul. Even as he pounds me, I know I’ll never get over this. Ever .
Orgasmic bliss ripples through me, rising to a crest I can’t control. “Fuck, fuck, I’m coming.”
He groans, his jaw tight, his face contorted with ecstasy as he comes with me. I feel the jerk of it deep inside me. It lasts longer than I expect, his body rigid between my legs, all the tendons in his neck standing out as his cock pulses.
Finally, his muscles slacken, and he slumps against me. But he doesn’t let his full weight fall on me; he keeps himself propped up on his elbows. His face hovers above mine, our noses almost touching. We’re panting, our chests heaving, my breasts rising and falling against his pecs, our sweat mingled between us.
“That was fast. Was that fast?” I say, suddenly nervous. “You make me come so fast. Shit.”
His brow creases. “Was it too fast for you?”
The answer comes easily, soothing my anxiety. “No. It was perfect.”
“Perfect,” he repeats the word slowly, sounding out each syllable like it’s a new concept. “Yes. That’s exactly what it was.”
A strange warmth that has nothing to do with sex ripples through me. He holds eyes contact a few moments longer, our hearts so close they’re almost beating as one.
“You’re definitely not real,” he says with a throaty laugh.
I smile up at him and kiss him. “You’re a dream too, you know.”
He holds me as our breathing returns to normal, still staring into my eyes as if he thinks I’ll disappear if he looks away. It’s a look that sinks right to the core of me, like he’s embedding himself into my memory. Into my soul .
This is way more intimate than I expected, and all of a sudden I can’t bear it. This was supposed to be just sex, a release of the crazy attraction I have for this man, and somehow it feels like way more. More than I’ve ever felt with any man. It feels like too much. My overwhelm must be apparent on my face because his brow creases as though some unpleasant thought is passing through his mind.
And just like that, whatever spell we were under is broken. He slides off me and pads out of the room, leaving my skin cold with the absence of him. I watch him head towards the bathroom, and I’m gripped by the unnerving sensation that I’m looking at a stranger.