Chapter 24 Aidan #2
“No.” I take hold of her waist, rolling us so I’m on top, and she gasps in surprise.
“You’ve already tasted me, but I’ve never tasted you.
That’s hardly fair, Cupcake.” I ease myself off her to remove her pajama bottoms. She’s not wearing panties underneath those either, and I arch a brow.
“You got into bed with me without underwear?”
She gives me a dirty smile. “I figured it would only get in the way.”
I give a slow shake of my head. “Naughty girl,” I rumble, and excitement flares in her eyes, like she expects I might punish her for it. And while my cock jumps eagerly at the thought, I push it away.
Not tonight. Tonight is about us, about being close.
I throw her pajama bottoms to the floor, nudging her legs apart as I settle between them. She’s naked and spread out on the bed for me, exactly how I want her. I let out a long, slow breath as I slide my hands up her thighs, opening her, gaze landing on her swollen pink pussy.
“Finally,” I rasp, swiping my tongue through her sweetness. She’s already soaked, and I lap up as much as I can. “You taste amazing, Cupcake.”
She moans, fingers digging into my hair as I devour her. I remember how she touched herself in my office, the way she’d teased her entrance then circled her clit, and I mimic the motion with my tongue. Then I slide a finger into her tight channel, watching as her eyes roll back.
“Like that?” I say gruffly, and she nods.
“Yes. More.”
I grin, adding a second finger, stretching her. God, she’s so damn tight. I can’t believe I’ll get to thrust into her soon. My cock aches as I pleasure her, rubbing against the mattress, and I have to tilt my hips to the side so I don’t explode in my pajama bottoms.
“Fuck, Aidan, I’m so close.”
I suck her clit and hook my fingers inside her, and as I listen to her chant my name, I realize how little she actually calls me that.
At work she calls me Mr. Brooks if anything, and then there was that time she called me Sir in the restroom—my dick flexes at the memory—but she so seldom calls me Aidan.
Hearing my name on her lips makes me hard as steel.
What would it be like if she called me Daddy?
The thought sends heat flooding through me, and I concentrate on her restless hips, the way her fingers tug at my hair, the soft rasp of her breath, desperate to get her there.
She made me come so hard in that restroom, and I’ve been eager to return the favor ever since.
Finally, she tightens around my fingers, releasing a long moan as her orgasm washes over her, and I cover her pussy with my mouth, wanting to taste it all, to feel her twitch against my tongue.
When she lets out a long sigh of relief, I rise, letting my eyes take in the flush spread over her creamy skin.
“You’re so perfect, Iris,” I say, kicking off my pajama bottoms and underwear, then kissing my way up her stomach, her breasts, finally reaching her lips. “So fucking perfect.”
Her heavy-lidded eyes meet mine. “So are you. You’re all I’ve been able to think about since Marco’s. All I’ve wanted.”
Shit.
I press my forehead to hers, breathing hard. She’s so open and trusting, so ready to be honest. How can I be anything but the same?
“Me too, Cupcake. With you…” God, it’s probably too much, too soon, but I can’t stop the words from leaving my mouth. “I feel things I’ve never felt. Things I don’t want to stop feeling.”
Her breath stutters. She kisses me hard, her hands circling my shaft, and it occurs to me suddenly that I don’t have a condom. She seems to sense it, and leans away, reading the hesitation on my face.
“I’m on birth control.”
I pause, absorbing this. She’s… offering for me to fuck her bare? Holy shit. I want that so badly I can’t think. It makes me want to rut into her like an animal, and I have to force myself to inhale slowly, to remain in control.
Her brows pinch together, misinterpreting my silence. “It’s not the pill,” she adds, laughing awkwardly. “I kept forgetting to take that, so… it’s one of those long-term implanted ones. No risks.”
“Iris…” I touch her cheek, breath rushing out. “I’m not worried about that. If you say you’re on birth control, I believe you. But… are you sure you’re okay with that?”
She nods. “I’m healthy, and I trust you are too.”
Of course she does, because she trusts me implicitly, doesn’t she? She trusts me to care for her.
And I’m fucking going to. In every possible way.
I kiss her deeply, settling between her thighs.
She sucks in a breath as my cock nudges her entrance, hard and throbbing against her slippery, swollen flesh.
For weeks, I’ve wanted nothing but this moment—to be this close to her—and I can’t believe it’s happening.
She can’t either, by the looks of it, her eyes wide and searching as she gazes at me.
My hands are shaking as I thrust hard into the tight heat of her, her back arching off the bed.
“Holy shit, Aidan,” she cries out, nails digging into my shoulders. “You’re so much bigger than I realized.”
I curse myself. It’s our first time together—our first proper time together—and I need to be more patient. To treat her with the care and respect she deserves.
“Sorry,” I mutter, going to pull away, but she stops me.
“No, it’s perfect.” Her mouth finds mine, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I rock into her again. “Don’t be gentle. Leave a mark, so that in the morning I know it was real.”
Christ.
I still my hips, clenching my jaw against the heat pouring through me. An invitation like that is difficult to refuse, but I feel the need to clarify, “I don’t need to leave a mark. If you forget in the morning, I’ll fuck you again.” I kiss her gently. “I’ll do it every time you need reminding.”
She whimpers, arms twining around my neck as she kisses me, tongue sweeping urgently over mine. Her hips shift restlessly underneath me, and I hold her still. I won’t fuck her as roughly as I’d like, not when I need to be tender with her.
“It feels so good to have you inside me,” she breathes.
I grunt in reply, giving a slow roll of my hips.
She feels fucking amazing, her pussy gripping my shaft tightly, but it’s an effort not to let loose.
Not to pour all my unspoken feelings into her with rough, unmeasured strokes.
All I can think about is how much she trusts me, how much I want to care for her. How I don’t want to ruin that.
But a frown gathers between her brows as I rock into her gently. “Why are you holding back?”
“I…” My voice comes out shaky and breathless. “I’m trying to take care of you, Cupcake. Treat you right.”
She arches a brow. “You’re doing it again.”
I lean on one elbow. “Doing what?”
“Treating me like a delicate snowflake instead of a grown woman.”
I swallow. Is that what I’m doing?
She levels her gaze at me. “What do you want? Right now?”
“You,” I say, stroking her cheek.
“No. What do you want to do to me?”
Shit, what kind of question is that?
“I don’t…”
She narrows her eyes at me, daring me to be honest, and despite myself, I smile wryly. There’s the brat I’ve missed.
“I want to fuck you hard,” I say, voice coming out lower than before.
She huffs out a breath. “Good. I want that. I want it hard.” She tightens around my shaft, making me groan. “What else?”
I hesitate, then slide my fingers into her hair, fisting them against her scalp. She whimpers, but not with pain. With arousal.
“I want to be rough with you,” I admit hoarsely. It’s not about hurting her. That’s the last thing I want. It’s about intensity. About struggling to contain the emotions whirling through me. She seems to understand, because her eyelids grow heavy.
“Yes, Aidan. Fuck, yes.”
God, she’s right. I was holding back. Why, when she so clearly wants to be fucked exactly the way I want to fuck her?
I hook a hand under her thigh, spreading her open for me. Her lips part as I slam back in, making her breasts bounce.
“This what you want, Cupcake?” I thrust again, hitting somewhere deep. “You want me fucking buried inside you?”
A moan tears from her mouth as I do it again, and the headboard hits the wall.
“You want me to tell you how crazy you’ve made me these past few weeks?”
Her fingernails score my back as she pants the word yes, over and over, and any remaining reservations I have melt away as I plunge into her silky depths.
“How all I’ve wanted to do is bend you over my desk and spank your perfect ass until it’s raw?” My voice is as rough as gravel as I rise to my knees, grabbing her thighs, going deeper. “Fuck you in my office for the entire building to hear?”
“Oh my God, Aidan,” she rasps, bucking underneath me. “Yes, fuck, I wish you would. I want it all.”
Christ. I hadn’t meant to say the part about spanking her. I’m getting caught up in the moment, but knowing she wants it all too? It makes me feral.
“That’s what you want?” I growl, tugging on her hair. “I’ll fucking give it to you.”
“Yes,” she sobs. “Yes.”
She wants it. I’m wild knowing she wants me to fuck her in all the ways I’ve imagined. And all I can think is Say it. Call me by that name.
I take her chin, forcing her gaze to mine as I slam into her. “Yes, what?”
She hesitates, just briefly, and I stroke her cheek to reassure her.
“Say it, Iris.”
“Yes…” She swallows hard. “Daddy.”
Oh. Fuck.
The word hits in a way entirely unexpected, and my balls draw up tight. I’ve never been called that before, never thought I’d like the implication, but with Iris it feels right. I want to be that for her; her safe place, her firm hand, the man who makes her feel better than anyone.
“Good girl,” I grit out, barely hanging on.
My fingers find her clit and stroke, and she whimpers, pleading, “Say it again.”
I lower myself flush over her, taking her mouth in a bruising kiss. “You’re my good girl, Iris. So fucking perfect.”
And with that, she clenches tight around my shaft, mouth opening around a silent moan as she comes. I pull her tight against me, a guttural growl tearing from me as I finally spill into her in a rough, messy release.
The first thing I notice coming back to reality is Iris’s face turned away, her eyes pressed shut. Concern lances through me, and I climb off her, heart racing.
“Shit, Iris. Are you okay?”
She shakes her head, not meeting my gaze, and I silently curse. I knew I shouldn’t have let go. She forces her gaze to mine, and what I see there is like a punch in the heart.
She’s crying.
“Fuck,” I mutter, reaching for her, then withdrawing my hand. I’m probably the last person she wants touching her right now. “What can I do, baby? I’m so sorry.”
She blinks. “What? No—” She wriggles closer, wiping her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get emotional.”
“You can get emotional, sweetheart. That’s okay. Did I do something…”
“No. God. Aidan.” She leans in, pressing her mouth to mine. “I just… I didn’t know sex could be like that. It was amazing. Too good.”
Relief washes cool over me, and I tug her into my arms, tight against my chest. “Shit, you scared me. I thought I was too rough.”
“You were perfect,” she murmurs, trailing a finger through my chest hair. “It was like the sex of my fantasies.”
Wow.
“Mine too,” I admit, then realize that’s a lie. “No, it was better.” I stroke a hand gently across her hair. “When you called me that…” I swallow, not sure how to address it in the afterglow of sex, but needing her to know. “It did something to me.”
“Me too,” she whispers. “I never thought I’d want to call a guy that… until I met you.”
I press my lips to her hair, breathing in her sweet orange blossom scent.
“And I’m so fucking glad you met me.” I release her gently, rising to fetch a washcloth from the bathroom, then lower myself between her legs, wiping up my mess.
Iris watches me reverently, like it’s the first time a guy has ever bothered, and it makes my chest tight. She’d better get used to it.
When I climb back into bed, she curls into my side. “Is it okay if I sleep like this?” she asks quietly, as if I might say no.
“You’d better sleep like that.” I squeeze her. “Otherwise, I’ll come looking for you in the night.”
She laughs, reaching over to turn off the lamp before softening against me. “I don’t want to go back to the city,” she whispers.
“I know. It’s going to be… complicated.”
“How will we…” she begins, then seems to let the question die before it’s asked, as if she can’t bear to hear the answer.
“We’ll have to be careful,” I say, thinking aloud. “Make sure we don’t do anything at work.”
She lets out a quiet sigh, and I feel the need to reassure her.
“This is real for me, Iris. I know the circumstances aren’t ideal,” I add, not letting myself think about John, about the risk I’m taking with my career. “But you and me… I want this with you, even if it’s messy.”
“I want that too,” she whispers.
Her lips find mine in the dark, soft and sweet, and it’s the best fucking feeling. Having her here in my arms, finally.
And as I lie in the dark, listening to the storm outside with Iris so close, my heart feels happy and full in a way it never has. I don’t know where we go from here, with work, with John, with everything else in our way, but I do know one thing.
I’m falling hard for Iris Prescott.