Chapter 25 #2
When it hits, it’s an overwhelming rush that crashes through me, leaving me breathless and shaking. He holds me through it, his lips pressing soft kisses to my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth as I come down slowly.
Before I can catch my breath, he’s moving again, sliding my underwear down my legs and discarding them somewhere on the floor. The cool air brushes against my heated skin, but then he’s there, his body covering mine.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “I need to be inside of you.”
I nod, my hands sliding down his chest to the waistband of his boxers. He kicks them off, and my stomach flips at the sight. He’s long and thick, rigid with unrestrained need.
He shifts then, muscles flexing as he reaches into the bedside drawer for a condom. He rolls the condom on with ease, then positions himself between my thighs.
He hesitates for just a moment, his weight balanced on his forearms above me.
“Lucy,” he says, voice rough as gravel. “It’s… It’s been a long time for me.”
The confession catches me off guard. Just a second ago he was this confident man who seemed so sure of every touch. I reach up, cupping his face in my hands, feeling the scratch of stubble against my palms.
“For me, too,” I whisper, and it’s true. More than that, though… It’s never felt this important.
He lowers his head, pressing his forehead to mine, breathing me in.
“I don’t want to rush this,” he murmurs. “I want to make it good for you.”
I slide my hands into his hair, pulling him down for a kiss that tells him everything words can’t. When we break apart, I’m breathless.
“You already are,” I assure him.
He slowly pushes forward, the pressure making me gasp. He stills immediately.
“Okay?” he asks, concern etching his features.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Don’t stop.”
He continues, inch by inch, giving me time to adjust to the feeling of him. When he’s fully seated, he pauses, his breath coming in short bursts.
“You feel incredible,” he groans, his voice hoarse with the effort of holding back.
I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him closer. “Move, Aidan,” I whisper against his lips. “Please.”
He begins to rock against me, his movements slow and careful at first. His eyes never leave mine, watching every reaction, adjusting his rhythm to match my responses.
My hands slide up his back, feeling his muscles tense beneath my fingertips.
His pace remains unhurried, the slow drag and push creating a building tension that has me arching beneath him.
But his control is slipping—I see it in the tightening of his jaw, the flexing of his muscles as he holds himself back.
“More,” I whisper, encouraged by the desire darkening his eyes. “I won’t break.”
A flash of raw hunger breaks through his careful control. His hips snap forward with sudden force, and a surprised cry tears from my throat.
“Like that?” he growls, his voice barely recognizable.
“Yes,” I breathe, digging my fingers into his shoulders. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you.”
The last thread of his restraint snaps. His movements become deeper, faster, more urgent. His breathing turns ragged against my neck, and I can feel him trembling with the effort to not completely let go.
I cradle his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Please, I want it all,” I tell him. “I want to see you lose control.”
His rhythm falters for just a second, surprise spreading across his face. “Fuck, Lucy,” he groans.
I want to know that I can break through those carefully constructed walls. My nails dig into his shoulders as I pull him closer, urging him deeper.
His movements become harder, more demanding, as he finally surrenders to what we both need. The headboard knocks against the wall, and I’m vaguely aware I should be quieter, but I can’t hold back the sounds he’s drawing from me.
“That’s it,” he urges, one hand sliding beneath me to lift my hips higher. “Take it all.”
The change in angle hits something deep inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. I whimper his name as pleasure coils tighter, threatening to snap.
“I’m—fuck. I’m so close. Come for me, beautiful. Now.”
His demand pushes me over the edge, and I shatter beneath him. He watches me fall apart, his eyes never leaving my face, drinking in every gasp and moan.
Just as I start to come down, his rhythm falters. With a deep groan, he follows me over the edge, burying his face in my neck as he finds his release.
For several moments, we stay like that, our bodies still joined, his weight pressing me into the mattress in the most comforting way. His breathing gradually slows as he presses gentle kisses to the curve of my shoulder.
He finally lifts his head, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his touch impossibly tender. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.” I smile. “That was…everything.”
A sigh escapes him as he carefully withdraws, leaving me feeling oddly empty.
The mattress dips as he rises, moving with purpose toward the bathroom.
I watch him go, unable to tear my eyes away from the broad expanse of his back, the defined muscles shifting beneath inked skin as he walks.
The moonlight filtering through the curtains traces the contours of his body, highlighting the strength in his shoulders, the narrowing at his waist, the firm curve of his backside.
He’s beautiful in a way that’s all hard angles and power. Not polished or perfect, but real.
When he returns, his eyes find mine in the low light, searching, though I’m not sure what he’s looking for.
He slides back beside me, his warmth immediately enveloping me. He hesitates, then tugs me close, curling his arm around my waist like he’s afraid I might change my mind. My cheek finds the solid wall of his chest.
He exhales against my hair. “You don’t have to stay, but I’d like it if you did.”
Coming from him, it’s a piece of him handed over. It’s not just an ask—it’s a confession. He doesn’t ask for much, if anything. I don’t think he knows how to want out loud. But he wants this. Me. Here. With him.
I could tell him I was planning to stay all along. I could tease him or say something light to break the weight of the moment. But I don’t. I just press my face closer to his chest, breathing him in, and let my hand slide over his side.
“I want to stay.”
He doesn’t say anything, but he tightens his hold on me. His thumb draws soft circles into my hip like he’s grounding himself with the feel of me. There’s nothing rushed or messy here. Just skin against skin and hearts that are finally starting to speak the same language.