18. Paige #3
His hand closes around my hip. “That’s my girl.”
He pulls almost all the way out and slams back inside me.
The force drives me against the chair.
I cry out.
Aiden grips my hair and draws my head back enough to expose my neck. “You asked me to fuck you hard.”
“I know.”
“Still want it?”
“Yes.”
He drives into me again.
Every thrust is rougher than the careful sex we had in the chair. His hips slap against my ass, the sting from his hand flaring each time his body meets mine.
Aiden reaches around me and cups one breast.
“You like me taking you like this?”
“Yes.”
“You like being bent over while I fuck this pussy?”
“Yes.”
His hand leaves my breast and lands against my ass again.
I moan his name.
“That’s it.” He grips my hip and drives deeper. “Let me hear you.”
I push back into every thrust, meeting him as hard as he gives it to me.
Aiden curses.
“Look at you.” Another hard stroke fills me. “The woman who made me sit on my hands is pushing back for more.”
“Because you’re still talking.”
His hand closes around the back of my neck.
“Careful.”
“Or what?”
He pulls out.
The sudden emptiness makes me gasp.
Aiden’s fingers replace his cock, sliding through the mess between my thighs before circling my clit.
“Or I make you ask for it.”
I grind against his hand. “Put your cock back inside me.”
“That wasn’t asking.”
“Please fuck me.”
His cock drives into me before the final word leaves my mouth.
I cry out against the chair.
“That’s better.”
He fucks me hard, one hand gripping my hip while the other works my clit. Pleasure builds through the soreness, the sting across my ass, and every rough stroke of his bare cock.
“I’m going to come.”
Aiden leans over me, his chest pressing against my back. “Give it to me.”
His fingers circle faster.
The pressure snaps. My pussy clamps around his cock, and I cry out as the orgasm tears through me.
Aiden keeps driving into me while my body pulses around him.
“Fuck, Paige.” His rhythm breaks. “You’re squeezing me so hard.”
“Come inside me again.”
He buries himself deep.
His cock jerks inside me as he comes, a rough groan tearing from his throat. He holds my hips against him through every pulse, keeping me full until neither of us can stand without the chair beneath us.
Aiden eventually eases out of me.
His palm moves over the reddened skin of my ass. The touch is gentle now.
“How does that feel?”
“Sore.”
“Bad sore?”
I test the sting and the deeper ache between my thighs. “No.”
He presses a kiss to the place he struck. “Tell me if that changes.”
“I will.”
Aiden carries me back to bed despite my insistence that my legs still work. This time, he returns with a warm cloth and cleans me carefully, his touch gentle over every sensitive place. Then he brings me water and waits until I drink.
When he stretches out beside me, I curl against his chest.
He places the special edition within reach.
“Well?” he asks.
“Demanding an immediate reader review is unethical.”
“I want your evaluation.”
“You improvised.”
“I improved.”
“Insufferable.”
“And still right.”
I laugh and roll onto my side. “Reality won.”
A slow, unbearably satisfied smile spreads across his face. “I expected it would.”
“The fictional version still deserves credit.”
“For giving you the idea.”
“You are very competitive.”
“You compared me to another man.”
“A fictional man.”
“I’ve explained my position.”
I trace one finger over his chest. “It was better because you listened. You let me decide what I wanted, and when I shifted, you followed.”
His hand settles against my hip. “That was the point.”
“It was better because it was real.” My throat tightens around the rest. “Because it was you.”
Aiden goes still beneath my hand.
The word appears in my mind so quickly that I can’t push it away.
Love.
He bought the exact edition I wanted because he remembered which one I kept touching. He read the book because it mattered to me. When I handed him a fantasy, he listened to every limit I gave him and let me decide how it became ours.
Oh, God.
I’m falling in love with him.
“You’re annoyingly good at this,” I say.
“At sex?”
“That too.” I tuck myself against his side. “I meant paying attention.”
His arm closes around me. “I like paying attention to you.”
That answer is much too close to the thought I’m trying not to have.
I press my face against his chest. “You can stop talking now.”
Aiden kisses the top of my head.
“Get some sleep, lady.”
I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat beneath my ear.
For once, I don’t argue.
The next morning, I bring the special edition to the ranch, intent on reading the epilogue. I find Aiden at the stove, turning pancakes. He glances over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading as he takes in the book in my hand, then me.
“Priorities,” he says, and before I can argue, he crosses the kitchen in two strides, backing me against the counter for a kiss that tastes like maple syrup. He pulls back only when his phone buzzes.
“Josie,” he says, reading the screen. “We’re late.”
I leave the book beside his coffee maker and follow him out the door, the epilogue still unread.