Chapter 17
Eve
His eyes are locked on the dark triangle between my legs. He seems to admire, almost worship it. Who knew this was a thing. I am trying to ready myself for him to touch me there but then his mouth is on my mouth again.
His kiss is nothing like I expected. It’s not rough or demanding—it’s soft.
Coaxing. His lips move against mine with a patience that sets all my nerves on fire, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth until I part for him on a shuddering breath.
The slide of his tongue against mine is electric, sending a jolt straight between my legs, and I moan into his mouth, my hands flying to his shoulders.
Aaron deepens the kiss, his tongue tangling with mine, teaching me without words how to move, how to take.
His hands slide down my back, lifting me from the mattress and pulling me flush against him.
I can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach.
The knowledge that he’s just as affected as I am sends a thrill through me, and I kiss him back harder, my nails digging into his back.
He groans, the sound vibrating against my lips, and then he’s pulling back, his breath ragged. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he mutters, pressing his forehead to mine.
I whimper, my lips swollen, my body throbbing. “Aaron—”
“Shh.” His lips find my jaw, then my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear. I gasp, my head tilting back, giving him better access. His hands slide down, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist before dipping lower, between my thighs.
I freeze.
His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as his fingers brush against my folds. “Trust me,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot.
I do. God help me, I do.
His fingers part me, slipping through the slickness there, and I moan, my hips jerking forward. He groans, his lips finding mine again as his fingers explore me, teasing my entrance before sliding inside.
“Oh God,” I gasp against his mouth, my fingers clutching at his shoulders. He’s inside me. His fingers are inside me, stretching me, filling me in a way I’ve never—
“You’re so tight,” he growls, his fingers curling just right, hitting a spot that makes my vision white out. “So fucking wet.”
I can’t form words. All I can do is moan, my body moving against his hand, chasing the pleasure building low in my belly. His thumb finds my clit, circling lazily, and my breath hitches.
“Aaron, I—” I can’t finish. The words dissolve into a whimper as his fingers crook inside me, his thumb pressing down just… there.
“Not yet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. And then he’s pulling back, his fingers slipping free, leaving me empty. Aching.
I whine in protest, my hips lifting off the bed, but he chuckles, the sound aroused and knowing. “Patience,” he says, standing.
I watch, dazed, has his hands go to his boxers, pushing them down his hips, and—
Oh.
Oh, my.
His cock springs free, thick and heavy, foreskin rolled back, exposing the dark head.
A bead of pre-cum glistens at the tip, and my thighs clench at the sight.
I’ve never seen anything like it. Not in person.
Not like this. When I slept with that guy at university, we undressed in the dark and it was all a bit of a disaster.
Aaron steps out of his boxers, kicking them aside, and then he’s kneeling on the bed, crawling toward me. His hands find my knees, pushing them apart, and he settles between my legs, his cock brushing against my thigh.
“I want to taste you,” he growls, his voice rough with need.
My breath stutters. “You… you don’t have to—”
His lips crash against mine, silencing me. “I want to,” he says, his voice a promise. “I want to hear you moan. I want to feel you come apart for me. But if you want me to stop I will stop.”
A shiver runs through me, my body already tightening at his words. “Don’t stop,” I beg in a whisper.
He kisses me again, slow and deep, before trailing his lips down my neck, my breasts, lingering on my nipples. His tongue swirls around one, then the other, and I arch into him, my fingers tangling in his hair.
Lower.
His lips trail down my stomach, his breath hot against my skin, and then—
“Aaron!” I gasp as his mouth finds my clit.
His tongue is everywhere—licking, teasing, parting my folds before diving inside.
My hands fly to his head, my fingers gripping his hair as his tongue flicks against my clit.
Pleasure arcs through me, sharp and bright, and my thighs tremble around his shoulders.
“So sweet,” he murmurs against me, his voice vibrating through my core. His fingers slide inside me again, stretching me, filling me as his tongue works my clit in slow, deliberate circles. “You taste like fucking heaven.”
I can’t… I can’t.
My orgasm builds, coiling tight in my belly, and I’m so close, so close.
But then he pulls back.
I whimper, my body throbbing, empty. “Aaron, please—”
He chuckles, low and knowing. “Oh, I want this just as much as you do, Eve. Probably more.” His mouth brushes my skin as he speaks, unhurried, deliberate.
“But if we rush it, it’s over too soon. I’d rather make you ache a little first.” He crawls up my body with infuriating slowness, every inch a promise.
“Let’s tease this out,” he murmurs. “Make it last. Make it memorable.” His cock drags against my thigh, hot and heavy, and I moan at the feel of him.
He captures my mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with mine, and I can taste myself on his lips. It should be embarrassing. It should make me want to hide. But all it does is make me hungrier.
His hand finds mine, guiding it between us, and then my fingers are wrapping around his cock. He’s so hard, the skin velvety smooth over steel, and when I stroke him, his breath hisses between his teeth.
“Just like that,” he groans, his hips jerking into my touch. “Fuck, Eve—”
I do it again, my grip tightening, my thumb swiping over the slick head. His pre-cum coats my fingers, and the knowledge that I’m doing this to him—that I’m making him lose control—sends a thrill through me.
“Enough,” he growls suddenly, his hand covering mine. Seemingly out of nowhere he produces a condom which he rolls on. He guides me onto my back, his body hovering over mine, and then his cock is there, pressing against my entrance.
I freeze.
Aaron stills, his forehead resting against mine. “Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me.”
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. His eyes are dark, intense, but there’s a tenderness there that makes warmth curl through me.
“You’re in control,” he says, his voice rough. “Tell me to stop, and I stop. Tell me to go, and I go. But fuck, Eve, I want you. I want to be inside you. I want to feel you come around my cock.”
I whimper, my body throbbing with need. “Yes,” I breathe. “Please, yes.”
He groans, his lips crashing against mine as he pushes inside.
The stretch burns, a sharp, intense pressure that makes me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He’s big. So much bigger than I expected, and my body resists at first, my muscles clenching around him.
“Shh,” he murmurs against my lips, his hand cupping my cheek. “Just breathe. You’ve got this.”
I force myself to relax, my breath coming in shallow gasps as he sinks deeper. And then—
Oh.
Oh, God.
He’s inside me. Completely, utterly inside me, filling me in a way I didn’t know was possible. The burn fades, replaced by a deep, aching fullness, and I moan, my hips lifting to meet his.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Aaron groans, his forehead pressing to mine. His cock twitches inside me, and I gasp at the sensation. “So tight. So perfect.”
He starts to move.
His thrusts are shallow at first, his hips rolling into mine with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Each slide of his cock drags against something deep inside me, sending sparks of pleasure skittering through my nerves.
I moan, my head tilting back, my hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, anywhere I can reach.
“More,” I gasp. “I need… more!”
Aaron groans, his control snapping. His thrusts deepen, his cock pounding into me with a rhythm that steals my breath. The bed creaks beneath us, the sound lost beneath my moans, his grunts, the wet slap of skin on skin.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, his voice rough. “I want to see you come.”
This time I don’t hesitate. He has set off a fire in me that has burned away all my shyness and anxiety. I trust him. I. Trust. Him.
My hand slides between us, my fingers finding my clit. The first touch is electric, and I cry out, my body tightening around Aaron’s cock.
“That’s it,” he growls, his thrusts becoming frantic. “Just like that. Come for me, Eve. Come now.”
My orgasm crashes over me like a wave, my body shuddering, my pussy clenching around his cock. Aaron groans, his hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge, his release spilling inside the condom.
We collapse together, our breaths ragged, our skin slick with sweat. Aaron rolls onto his side, pulling me into his arms, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin.
The future hangs between us, unspoken.
But for now, in this moment, it doesn’t matter.
Morning comes slowly.
Light presses through the curtains, soft and hazy, and for a moment I can’t quite remember where I am. Then I feel it—the steady rhythm of breathing behind me, the warmth of an arm draped around my waist, the faint weight of a hand resting against my stomach.
Aaron.
He’s still asleep, his breath brushing against the back of my neck. Everything in me goes very still.
A thousand thoughts rush in at once, tripping over each other in their panic. I should move. I should slide out from under his arm, tiptoe back to my room, pretend this never happened. Pretend I’m still the same person who overthinks everything to death.
But I don’t move.
Because underneath the nerves, there’s something else. Something calm. Content. Safe.
I’ve never felt like this before—like I belong somewhere. Or with someone. The warmth of him at my back feels like the answer to a question I hadn’t realised I’d been asking for years.
I shift slightly, just enough to look at him. His face is softer in sleep, all the sharp edges smoothed away.
A part of me wants to stay here forever. The other part—the louder, nervous part—whispers that this is too much, too soon, too everything.
So I lie there, caught between both worlds, torn between running and reaching, trying to decide which version of myself I’ll be when he wakes.
Aaron stirs behind me, his arm tightening for a moment before he breathes out a sleepy laugh.
“I can feel you thinking,” he mumbles against my shoulder, voice rough with sleep.
I smile faintly. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is when it’s you,” he mumbles. “It’s like the air changes.”
“That sounds ridiculous.”
He makes a low sound of amusement. “You’re the one doing it. Thinking loud.”
“I’m not,” I insist, though I can feel the smile tugging at my mouth.
He shifts closer, his voice softer now. “You are. I can tell.”
I turn fully to look at him, and the sight almost undoes me—his hair rumpled, his eyes half open, the faintest trace of a grin.
He studies me for a second, then says quietly, “Whatever it is, stop overthinking it.”
Before I can reply, he leans in and kisses me.
It’s soft and sure, and all the noise in my head falls away.
When he pulls back, he stays close, his forehead resting against mine.
“Better?” he murmurs.
I nod, breathless.
He smiles. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere, Eve. You don’t have to keep talking yourself out of something that’s already right here.”
I swallow, the warmth in my chest flickering with something sharper. “You say that, but we live in completely different parts of the country.”
He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “It’s only a three-hour drive to Norfolk.”
“Three hours,” I repeat, as if saying it out loud makes it shorter.
“I can come up on weekends,” he says lightly. “And we’re good at writing, aren’t we? We already know how to do the distance thing.”
He says it so simply, as if it’s the most reasonable thing in the world. My heart wants to believe him. My brain, however, starts cataloguing every possible obstacle.
“Aaron, your friends are in London. Your work. My life’s in Norfolk. My family—”
He cuts in gently, his tone soft but certain. “It’s just three hours, Eve.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he keeps going. “And people move.”
I blink. “Move?”
He grins at my expression, that small, quiet smile that always makes me feel slightly off-balance. “Not now,” he says quickly. “I’m not asking for that. But if things work out… why not?”
The thought makes me gasp for air. “You can’t just say things like that,” I whisper.
“Why not?” he counters lightly. “It’s the truth.”
He reaches for my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “We don’t need to plan it all today. We’ve got time.”
I stare at him, trying to work out how he can sound so sure about something that terrifies me. But he looks at me the way he always does—steady, unhurried, like he’s already figured out I’m worth waiting for.
Aaron traces lazy circles on the back of my hand. “We could mix things up a bit, you know. Not just emails. Maybe the occasional phone call.”
I give him a look. “You know I hate phone calls.”
He grins. “Exactly why we should have one. Exposure therapy.”
“Cruel,” I say, trying not to smile.
He laughs quietly. “You’d survive. I’d do all the talking anyway. Maybe even a little dirty talking.”
That earns him a proper laugh, soft and breathy. “You are ridiculous.”
Before he can reply, there’s a loud thud from the door. We both jump.
Aaron frowns. “What on earth—”
The door swings open with a second bang, and Bernard trots in, very pleased with himself, his little pink pig clamped proudly in his mouth.
He pauses when he sees us, drops the pig, and gives a short, decisive bark that sounds suspiciously like a complaint.
Aaron stares at him. “I think that means breakfast.”
Bernard tilts his head, as if confirming the order, then ambles closer, tail wagging with complete disregard for timing or privacy.
I giggle, pressing my face into the pillow. “He has such an instinct for ruining a moment.”
Aaron sighs, but he’s smiling too. “Come on then, mate. Let’s get you fed before you knock the whole house down.”
Bernard picks up his pig again, looking smug as he trots out, clearly satisfied that his humans have been retrieved from whatever nonsense they were up to.