Chapter Fourteen
There’s no hesitation in Aiden. No hang ups.
He kisses me like he’s been holding back all night.
Like this is the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.
His eagerness is catching, and I find myself guiding his hands to where I want them; under my t-shirt and cupping my breasts.
Aiden’s hands are firm and yet gentle. He rearranges us so he’s stretched alongside, or more on top if I’m being honest. His touches are both demanding and teasing, but it is the reverent way he presses his lips to mine, the slow and sure exploration of tongues that makes his kiss sensual.
He rolls off me the wrong way, his back hitting the rug with a loud thump.
“Tiger, we should take this upstairs before I mess this up and screw you on the couch.”
I roll onto my side and look down on him from the sofa.
He lifts his hands to his head and swipes them down his face, chest is moving rapidly as he tries to catch his breath.
He’s trying to do right by me. Bed me. Go slow.
But I’m good with the couch, the floor, the wall, and the iron stairs might bruise my knees; I’ll happily try those too.
I watch this man, with his eyes screwed shut and a soft smile on his face and realise that there’s a warm feeling in my chest that belongs to him.
Dax’s drama consumes many of my moments, but Aiden’s stoicism, kindness, generosity, care, and loyalty are just as important.
This beautiful, patient man made it impossible for me not to love him.
The realisation both hits like a sledgehammer and lifts like weight from my soul.
I love him.
Not just for what he has done, but for who he is.
I carefully climb off the couch, straddle Aiden’s waist, and kneel while hovering gently over his crotch.
His eyes flicker open, and he watches me without saying a word.
I’m glad. He doesn’t need to say anything.
This is on me; my choice. I bend forward and lean one arm on the floor beside him.
My other hand cups his face. An anchor for my kiss.
His lips move slowly against mine. We ease into our second kiss of the evening.
The soft capture of lips and the sharing of air consume me for a moment before he teases me with his tongue, all soft, imploring presses and licks.
His hands are in my hair, pulling me down, and when I pull back, he comes with me, arching up as if we’re tethered.
“Let me take you to bed,” he whispers against my mouth.
“How about you just take me?”
“Here?”
“Everywhere.”
He rolls his hips, rocking into me. Even through our clothes, I can feel his heat and want. His hands grip my waist, holding us together before reaching up under the t-shirt and pulling it over my head.
He takes a sweet moment to stroke my hair as he lets his eyes wander down my body and back up to look me in mine. “You’re beautiful, Tiger, and I want you more than I can put into words right now. Are you sure this is what you want?”
“One hundred percent. No matter what comes tomorrow or the day after. This is what I want.”
His brows furrow at my answer. He caresses my face and leans in to kiss me sweetly on the forehead. “Whatever comes will have me and Dax to deal with before it ever touches you.”
A small part knows that is precisely what I need to hear, but another part is scared of exactly that. Of losing them both. I stuff the fear down and offer Aiden a smile.
“That’s just one of the reasons why I love you,” I quip before realising what I’ve gone and said.
Aiden’s eyes flare wide. I see the instant everything just stops between us, like time has frozen.
Realisation. The truth. I wait for the rebuff.
For the “Uh, Jules, that’s not what I meant,” but it doesn’t come.
Instead, Aiden’s mouth consumes my fear in a searing kiss.
His palms stroke my back, pulling me closer as though trying to merge us into one being.
His fire catches, and I grab for his t-shirt, tearing it off in a messy and uncoordinated fumble.
Neither of us cares. Our hands are everywhere.
Fingertip introductions tell me who this man is.
Scars, dimples, soft skin, calluses, bruises; they are mine to explore.
Mine to collect, same as he catalogues my life written upon my flesh.
For the first time, I don’t have to cover up my bruises or hide my ugly bones.
He explores me under my clothes and reads me like braille, taking me for who I am.
He doesn’t flinch away; he appreciates my story and my scars.
“As much as I want you here on this floor,” he purrs into my ear. “We’re going to need to go upstairs.”
“Why?”
“Condoms.”
“Oh.”
“Now I can go and come back, or we can both head up? Which would you prefer?”
“If we go up, will you promise to fuck me on the floor next time?”
“The floor or…”
“Anywhere. Everywhere. I want…”
“You want us to christen my apartment?” he asks, catching on quick.
“Yep, that.” I also wanted to obliterate any lingering trace of Celeste Trevainne from the walls of this place but voicing that kind of jealousy won’t serve me now. So, I keep that part to myself.
“I like the way you think. Deal, Tiger. Now scoot that cute arse upstairs. If I catch you, I’m sinking my teeth into your cheek.” I stand. He tugs off the shorts I’m wearing. I step out of them quickly and back away with a grin.
“Five second head start,” I squeal, but I’m already running, with Aiden bearing down on me. I’m almost to the top of the spiral stairs when his hand grips my waist and his lips press against my butt cheek. He scrapes his teeth over my tender skin as promised but doesn’t land the bite.
“I warned you that your arse was mine,” he says, then grabs the offending cheek. Visions of me spanking him, his perfect pouty ‘O’ of shock, the promise of retribution when he finally understood what I’d done…the memory has me giggling, a sound that shocks both of us out of our play.
“I’m going to make that my life mission.”
“What?”
“Making you laugh like that. I want to hear that every day.”
Me too. But I can’t say the words aloud. I can’t tempt fate into taking this from me.
“Deal. Now, orgasms, please.”
“Whatever you say, Tiger.”
Aiden slowly and deliberately strips off his sweatpants. His eyes remain riveted to mine the entire time. I follow his lead and remove what underwear remains. It is the most exposed I’ve been. I wonder if he feels the same?
In three small strides, Aiden presses up against me, pulling me into a tender hug.
“May I lay you down?”
I’m not sure what he’s asking, but I say yes regardless. I would do anything for this man.
An awful squeal wails from my mouth when, without warning, he lifts me up bridal style and walks me to the head of the bed and lays me gently down.
He strokes my hair, my face, and continues the path down over my breast and stomach.
He joins me on the bed, lying alongside me, and descends upon my mouth first, then layering kisses down my neck.
Tender. Loving. Unhurried.
He’s teaching me to make love.
Before now, love had been something confined to fiction. Something you read about longingly. Nobody makes love these days. We fuck. Hard or soft, it’s all just sex.
Not this.
My bodyguard, secret-agent, special forces boyfriend is as chivalrous as the knights of old, and he treats me like a princess.
He grips me firmly but gently; his hands possessively claiming and yet subtly lulling my body into a submissive state of satiation. I am revered with kisses. Worshipped with caresses. Tasted by a tongue that whispers prayers to a God I have forgotten how to believe in.
Through it all, he’s telling me that I might have said the words first, but he’s the one willing to show me how deeply he feels it too.
I am loved.
I wrap myself around him and give as much as he gives me.
He tastes of mulberries and low-alcohol beer.
His hair is golden strands of silk between my fingers.
His whiskey eyes are molten brown and never leave my face.
When he sinks into me, I wrap myself around him to fuse us together, rocking to the steady rhythm of his heart.
Keeping time, keeping pace until we fall apart together, where I remain wrapped in his arms for as long as he’ll keep me.