Chapter 20
Jay
I’m a mess, my mind racing in a dozen different directions after everything Aiden just told me. The kissing made my head spin, leaving me dizzy. He not only wants me, but he’s in love with me? And how has he not had sex since Florida? That blows my mind.
After leaving the rest stop, I booked us a room online while Aiden drove. Instead of reserving two beds, I chose a king. It doesn’t feel presumptuous to assume we’ll be sleeping together tonight.
When we arrive at the hotel, I check us in while Aiden unloads the van. After getting the keys, I take our bags from him, follow him down the hall, then open the door to the room and hold it open while Aiden wrangles the cat’s carrier and portable litter box.
I kick off my shoes and set our bags down by the bathroom door while he places the cat carrier in the corner and opens the latch.
Maisy rushes out first, her tail flicking back and forth, already exploring the corners. Daisy comes out more cautiously, sniffing around, deciding whether to trust another new place.
Aiden turns around, wiping his hands on his pants, and freezes when he sees the single bed. His eyes flick to mine, and one brow lifts as he gives me a heated look.
“Thinking you’re gonna get lucky, baby?” he winks, nodding toward the bed.
“I was hoping so,” I tease, my voice already lower than it was a minute ago.
“Oh, I can guarantee with absolute certainty, you’re going to get lucky… and then some.”
We close the distance, finally surrendering to the magnetism that pulls us together with undeniable force. He grips my hips, pulling me flush against him, and kisses me deeply. No hesitation, no slow buildup.
I wrap my arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as I grind against him, need pulsing through me like a live wire. I’m riding a hair-trigger here, and if I don’t calm myself down, this is going to be over before it starts.
“God, I want you so bad,” Aiden murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, then trailing down my jaw.
I arch my neck, offering him everything. And he finds it—that spot—just below my ear, the one that short-circuits my brain and makes my pulse spike.
“Oh, fuck, that’s the spot,” I gasp, trembling as he sucks gently on my skin.
“This spot?” he whispers, flicking his tongue along the sensitive curve of my neck. “I remember this spot.” Another kiss, a lick, a scrape of his teeth. “This is my spot, right?”
“It’s always been yours,“ I breathe. “Never anyone else’s. I swear. Only yours.”
A low, possessive growl vibrates against my skin as he pulls me even closer, claiming me in all the ways I’ve been starving for.
His hands slide up my sides, his fingertips brushing along my ribs, making me shiver.
This isn’t just sex; it’s our history. It’s pouring every ounce of want we’ve been carrying—the longing, the love, the ache of being apart—into the most intimate way two people can say I’m yours.
With everything we’ve been through, everything we are… I want to savor this.
“Baby, I need your skin on me,” he mutters, his voice rough with need as his hands find the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head.
His comes off just as fast, flung somewhere toward the bed.
I barely glimpse his glorious sculpted chest before our mouths crash together again, and everything else disappears.
The fronts of our bodies meet in an exquisite slide of skin on skin. Every inch of him is heat and muscle. I want to touch every part of him that I can reach. My hands move instinctively, roaming, grabbing, trying to memorize him all over again.
His back is smooth and warm under my palms, his chest dusted with soft hair that prickles against my fingertips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I can feel a shiver run through him. It’s intoxicating.
He pulls back just enough to look down, his eyes dark and wild as they trace over me, my bare skin, flushed chest, the hard line of need straining through my sweats.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his eyes locking on mine. “You’re my goddamn wet dream.”
I can’t even fathom how he could think that. I want to believe him, but the insecure part of me still struggles. After everything, why me? I’m average, at best. But he’s here. He’s choosing me, and he’s with me right now. I have to keep reminding myself of that.
We’re still standing in the middle of the hotel room. We haven’t even made it to the bed. And neither of us seems to care.
His lips trail down my neck, across my collarbone. Between kisses, he inhales deeply, like he’s trying to memorize my scent, cataloging every inch of me.
“What do you want?” he whispers, his voice low and smooth.
I can hardly get the words out. “I want your mouth on me.”
He answers by catching my right nipple between his teeth, and the sensation rips through me like lightning, short-circuiting everything but want.
“I want to taste you everywhere, baby,” he groans.
Guiding me towards the bed, his hands are firm and insistent on my shoulders. The backs of my knees hit the mattress, and I go down hard, breathing in shallow gasps.
In one swift motion, he tears off my pants and underwear, stepping back to drink in the sight of me.
I’m laid out bare for him, my skin prickling with exposure, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the heat of his gaze.
My white socks, the only stitch of clothing I have left on, still cling to my feet.
“Fuck,” he rumbles.
His eyes roam over me, reverent and ravenous, mapping every inch of my skin, like he’s memorizing every detail. Standing in front of me, still clad in his pants, the imprint of his hard dick throbs, a restless beast trapped against the fabric.
He kicks off his shoes, a smirk playing on his lips, and seductively slides his joggers off, revealing leopard print underwear that clings to him like they’re painted on. My mouth waters.
“God, take them off,” I beg, my voice hoarse with need.
He gives me a show, his hands sliding under those sexy briefs with excruciating slowness, teasing me with a glimpse of his pubic hair before his thick, beautiful, hard cock springs free, slapping against his stomach.
Next come his heavy balls, already high and tight, ready to spill. He slides his underwear off the rest of the way, kicking them aside.
The room is silent, except for our ragged breathing, quick and uneven.
Then he’s on me, his mouth capturing mine in a fierce, bruising kiss, his hands exploring my body with a desperate certainty, as if memorizing a landscape he never wants to forget.
Our cocks align, the exquisite sensation of velvet skin sliding over our steel shafts, thrusting me too close to the edge.
His mouth breaks away from my lips, tracing a wet, hot path down my neck, his tongue a relentless explorer. He finds my right nipple, sucking and licking it to a stiff peak, before journeying to my left, his tongue swirling and sliding, painting a map of pleasure.
He dips into my belly button, and then he’s there, where I need him most, his hot breath teasing my cock.
Dropping off the bed to his knees, he licks the pre-cum leaking from the tip, his tongue a gentle, maddening torment.
Without hesitation, he engulfs me in his mouth, devouring me like I’m his last meal.
I’m enveloped in his heat, the tip of my cock hitting the back of his throat.
He swallows, the muscles constricting around me, and I’m lost, drowning in sensation.
“Aiden, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come,” I gasp, my voice a desperate, strangled plea.
He pulls his mouth off of me, a trail of spit hanging between his lips and the tip of my dick, a lewd sight that nearly sends me over the edge. He looks up at me, his pupils blown wide, dark pools of lust.
“Come for me, down my throat,” he commands, his voice low and feral.
He goes back to sucking me, his head bobbing, his cheeks hollowing, stroking himself in rhythm with his mouth, but the edge of the bed is blocking my view. I can’t see it, but God, I want to see it.
I’m teetering on the edge, my body tight, my nerves firing zaps of electricity. It only takes a few seconds before I’m erupting in his mouth, an earth-shattering orgasm ripping through me, causing my legs to shake and my back to arch.
“Oh, fuck,” I yell, my voice a hoarse, ragged cry as he swallows down every drop of my cum, his throat working, his eyes locked on mine.
He keeps sucking me through the aftershocks, his mouth relentless and torturous until I can’t take it anymore.
“Aiden, please stop, you’re killing me,” I beg, my voice shaky and breathless.
Finally letting me go, a chuckle rumbles out of his chest as he licks up the length of my softening dick.
He kisses the tip, a tender press of his lips, before he crawls up my body, his mouth finding mine, the taste of my cum an overwhelming, intoxicating invasion of my senses.
I need to get my mouth on him.
Firmly grasping his sides, in one fluid motion, I flip us so I’m straddling his hips. The hardness of his erection presses against me, grinding into my ass.
“It’s my turn,” I murmur, a smirk playing on my lips.
From my vantage point, his upper body is a landscape of masculine perfection. He’s leaner than he was in Florida, but every muscle is sharply defined, a testament to his inherent strength.
His olive skin is covered with a dark layer of trimmed hair that tapers down his torso, guiding my eyes down his happy trail. His taut nipples beg for my attention. He’s my ultimate fantasy.
I trail kisses down his abdomen, feeling the ridges of his muscles against my lips.
I want to draw out this exquisite torture, so I press kisses to his inner thighs, savoring the feel of his coarse hair against my cheek, before moving back up to his groin.
His eyes, dark and hungry, track my every movement.
Rather than keeping him on his back, I pull him to his feet, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss before sinking to my knees.
His cock is thick, a pulsing vein running up its length, feeding the engorged, pink head. His balls are full and heavy. I wrap my hand around steel wrapped in velvet skin, licking the bead of pre-cum from his slit. He bucks at the contact, a guttural moan escaping his lips.
“Oh fuck, baby, suck me,” Aiden pleads, his voice a desperate rasp.
I oblige, taking him deep into my mouth in one swift motion. His masculine, musky scent fills my nostrils as I breathe him in; his neatly trimmed hair tickles my face. He thrusts slowly, the salty taste of him flooding my senses.
I look up at him, nodding, granting him permission to take what he needs.
“Yeah, baby, take my dick. I want my load inside you,” he groans, his hips moving faster, his cock swelling, his balls tightening.
Spit drips from my mouth to the floor, and I gag slightly, but I don’t let up. I reach up, stroking his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Oh fuck, I’m coming,” he exclaims, his voice a hoarse cry as he unleashes a torrent of salty warmth down my throat.
It’s too much to contain, and some escapes, oozing down my chin.
Giving one last lick up his length, I stand, returning the favor by feeding his release back to him in a fierce, messy kiss.
We collapse back onto the bed, breathless and tangled together, kissing like we can’t get enough. His heart beats against mine, steady and grounding, easing the wild energy still buzzing under my skin.
For the first time in a long time, I feel completely at peace, content in a way I’d forgotten was possible.
“God,” I say, a lazy smile tugging at my lips. “That was incredible.”
Aiden chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. “That was amazing. Do you remember the first time we did that?”
I laugh, my face heating at the memory. “Oh yeah. If I remember right, I blew you first, but pulled off, afraid I was going to gag because of my texture issue. Then, when it was your turn, I came down your throat in like two seconds with zero warning.”
He grins, “Oh, I remember. You didn’t seem too sorry about it either. We were in my bedroom when my parents were at some church thing. Even though the house was empty, we still barricaded the door, just in case.”
That hits me like a punch to the gut. The guilt floods in before I can stop it. I’ve spent years replaying the day that ended everything.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
His brow furrows. “What are you sorry for?”
“That last day,” I whisper. “When everything went to shit. I should’ve locked the door. I knew better. It was my fault.”
“Hell no,” Aiden says, his tone dropping low and serious. “Come on, sit up, cross your legs, right now.”
I know what this means—it’s time for a serious talk. We used to do this whenever things got heavy.
He takes my hands, eyes locking on mine. “That was not your fault. I knew better, too. I’ve replayed that day a thousand times, wondering what we could’ve done differently.
“But if we were living under the same roof, it was bound to happen. Maybe not that day, but eventually. What’s done is done, and no amount of guilt changes that.”
Leave it to me to take a sweet, sexy moment and turn it into a therapy session.
Tears burn down my cheeks. “I know, but I can’t help wondering how different things might have been if I’d just taken that one second and locked the door like we always did.”
Aiden cups my face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away my tears. “Baby, I wish we could get those years back. God, I do, but we can’t.
“What we can do is make the most of what’s in front of us. We found our way back to each other. That’s what matters. We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
He pulls me in and presses our mouths together, not with heat but with tenderness, a slow rediscovery of something familiar and unbreakable. Eventually, we curl into each other, our arms and legs tangled, holding each other tight.
“I could take a nap,” Aiden murmurs, sounding blissfully spent, kissing my head.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Me too.”
Between the drive, the emotional conversations, and the mutual orgasms, it doesn’t take long before we’re both out.