I backed away from her, unlocked the front door, set my guitar in the rack, and shut off the amp. Taking her hand, I led her to the stairs.
"Come on," I growled.
"Where are we going?"
"For what I want to do to you, we need to be behind closed doors."
She trotted after me eagerly, holding my hand as we ascended the stairs. "I like the sound of this."
"You should."
"What are you going to do to me, Canaan?" This was murmured low, her voice buzzing with curiosity and arousal.
I ignored her question until we got the hallway, where I hesitated. Cor and I shared a bedroom still, and I knew Tate and Cor would need some time alone too, after everything that had gone down. I was mad at him, but he was still my twin and my best friend, and I'd always look out for him. I glanced at the other doors, Baxter's, and Lucian's. Luce obviously would need his room, but Bax was gone indefinitely--at least, he still hadn't mentioned to any of us when he and Evangeline were coming home, and someone spoke to Bax every other day, if not every day.
I grabbed the doorknob to Bax's room and shoved the door open.
"Isn't this Baxter's room?" Aerie asked, as we entered.
"Yeah."
"We can't just use his room."
I'd never actually been in here before: growing up with seven brothers, we learned early on the value of respecting each other's personal space. The unspoken rule was you don't mess with your brother's shit. You stay out of his room, and out of his business; if he feels like sharing, he'll share; a closed door means keep out.
But this was...extenuating circumstances, you might say.
So, I was a bit surprised at what I found in his room: bookshelves. He'd shoved his bed and dresser together along one wall, had a seaman's chest under the window, and the other entire wall beside the closet was occupied with two side by side bookshelves, each so stuffed with books that he had them stacked two deep in places, with more lying sideways on top.
Look, Bax is my bro, and I love him, and I know he's a smart guy, smarter than most people give him credit for, but I still never quite took him for the bookish type. But then, if he wasn't working, working out, or at a fight, he was in his room, the door cracked open as a signal that he was available if needed. None of us have ever been into TV, since Dad never got cable in the apartment over the bar where we all grew up, and we just never got into the habit of watching TV. We're all too busy, have too many other more important interests. So, no TV, he's not in school, no video games...what does he do in here during his off time? Read, clearly. I feel kind of judgy for being so surprised.
Aerie glanced at me after she'd taken in the bedroom, surprise on her face, and I just laughed.
"I know, right?" I said. "Who knew?"
Aerie meandered past me to the full bed, which was neatly made and covered in a flannel blanket, with a fuzzy throw folded across the back end. The room was impeccable, with few personal effects other than the books.
"Are you sure it's okay we're in here?" Aerie asked me.
I shrugged. "He's not here, and hasn't been here in almost two months, and I'm not sure when he will be here. Bed space and privacy are limited, so I say we take what we can get."
She sat down on the edge of the bed, gazing up at me. "So. You mentioned needing privacy for something or other?"
I locked the door behind me. "Something or other...yeah." I prowled slowly toward her. "I'd originally planned to just rip your clothes off, go down on you until you start screaming, and then fuck you until we're both stupid."
She reached for the hem of her shirt. "I like the sound of that."
"But I'm thinking I have another idea." I stopped her from peeling her shirt off.
"Oh? What's that, Canaan?"
This could backfire. It was totally impetuous. I was going with what my emotions were telling me--there's a fuck of a lot more to this thing between us than just sex, and we may not be ready to confront all of that, but I still owe it to her and to myself to communicate somehow that I recognize the "more" that is floating unspoken between us.
I stood in front of her, staring down at her, trying to decide how far I was going to take this.
"Say something, Cane. You're making me nervous." She was relaxed, though, her knees parted, hands on her thighs, just watching me. Only the way her lovely amber-green eyes were constantly flitting and searching mine gave away her nerves.
"You trust me, Aerie?"
"Of course."
"Don't just say that to say it." I turned away, opened Bax's closet, and slid a necktie off a hanger, and a pocket square from the breast pocket of a suit coat, and a red bandana from a shelf. "You really mean it? You really trust me?"
She eyed the striped, brightly colored tie dangling from my fingers, and her nostrils flared, her eyes widening. In answer, she stood up and held out her hands, wrists together. Her chin lifted defiantly, confidently.
I pinioned her wrists together in my hand. "That's my girl."
"I am, you know."
"You are what?"
"Your girl."
I lowered her wrists and leaned in to kiss her, slowly, softly. "I know," I whispered.
"You're not tying me up?" she asked, sounding disappointed.
"Not this time around." I led her away from the bed to the middle of the room and stood behind her. "I want to do...this, first."
I refolded the pocket square in half, so it was a rectangle, and placed it over her eyes. I lifted her fingers to her face, prompting her to hold the silk in place. I wrapped the tie around her head, pinning the pocket square in place as I knotted the ends of the tie tightly behind her head.
"Can you see?" I asked.
"No."
"Good." I fiddled with the positioning of the tie and the square. "Not too tight?"
"It's perfect."
"And you're okay with this?"
"More than okay," she answered.
Her skin was pebbled with goose bumps, and her nipples were poking through the fabric of her bra and T-shirt.
"You'll tell me if it's too much, right?" I asked, touching my lips to her temple.
"Of course."
Now that she was blindfolded, I was going to play with her a bit.
I backed away. "Stay still."
"What are you doing, Canaan?" Her voice was an excited whisper.
I circled around in front of her, moving as quietly as I could. She was swiveling her head this way and that, trying to sense my presence.
"Canaan?"
I tiptoed closer; her nostrils flared, scenting me. I leaned close, touching my lips to hers in a ghosting tease. Aerie pursed her lips, expecting the kiss, but I slid my mouth along her cheek instead, to her cheekbone, down to the corner of her jaw just beneath her ear. Up, then, kissing around the shell of her ear; she tilted her head toward me, offering herself to me. I breathed on her ear gently, a huff of warm air.
"Are you wet, Aerie?"
She nodded.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded again.
"Show me."
"Wh-what?"
"Show me how wet you are." I tangled my fingers with hers and guided our hands to her zipper. "I wanna hear how wet you are. I wanna smell and taste how wet you are for me, baby."
I slid open the button fly, and then slowly lowered her zipper. Aerie's hand dropped away, anticipating my touch. I breathed a laugh in her ear, and then moved to stand behind her, chin on her shoulder, hands sliding over her belly and up to her diaphragm, teasing her with my touch, purposefully avoiding her sensitive, erogenous zones.
"Oh no--no, I want you to show me."
She tilted her head back and twisted it toward mine, lips brushing my temple. "I've never been this wet in my life, Cane..."
"Good. Show me."
She dipped her fingers under the elastic of her panties, down to the juncture of her thighs. She hesitated and then leaned back against me for support as she shifted her legs apart. I watched over her s
"Hear that?" Aerie murmured. "I'm all juicy."
I reached out and grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand to my face. I sniffed her glistening fingers. "You smell like something I want to taste."
She traced the seam of my lips with her middle finger, and then slid her finger into my mouth, and I licked it clean of her tangy, musky, female essence.
"I want you to taste me," she breathed, beginning to shimmy out of her pants.
"Ah-ah-ah," I said, imprisoning her hands with mine to stop her. "Not yet."
"Canaan, you're making me crazy."
"Good." I nipped her earlobe. "Trust me."
"Okay. What next, then?"
"Touch yourself again."
"With all my clothes still on?"
"For now."
"Canaan, I don't know if you understand how sex works, honey," she teased. "We both have to be naked to do it."
I huffed a laugh. "You underestimate me, then, my dear. Maybe someday I'll prove to you we can fuck fully clothed." I slid my hand along her belly again, daring upward. "In public, maybe, even. You game for that?"
"You get me worked up enough, I just might be."
"Challenge accepted," I breathed, marking a line with my thumb just beneath the underwire of her bra. "Now, Aerie...I want to watch you make yourself come."
Her fingers dove under her panties again, down between her thighs, and I watched her hand move as she dipped a finger inside herself, drew it out, dragging her wetness around her clit, moaning softly at the touch of her fingers. She began to circle, then, slowly.
"Oh...god--Cane, please touch me. Play with my tits. Something--anything, just put your hands on me."
"I will, babe, don't you worry about that."
You'd think, after a month and a half of nonstop, several times a day, numerous times per session of Aerie and me fucking that we'd have exhausted the ways we could turn each other on, make each other desperate and crazy. Yet...every time, every single time...it got hotter, crazier, and more desperate.
A little voice in the back of my head rather unhelpfully pointed out that this fact may very well be how people can be married to the same person for decades, how they could have sex with the same person for all those years and never get tired of it, never need something different or new.
Nope, nope, nope--not going there just yet.
I watched Aerie's circling finger, obscured by her panties, and felt a rush of need, deep-seated, fiery, fierce, and demanding--I needed to see her. Touch her. Feel her. I denied myself, letting memory and imagination fill in for me for a moment or two longer. Denying myself made this all the more erotic for both of us.
She began to moan, and her finger circled faster, and I finally let myself cup her breast over her bra, strumming across her erect nipple with my thumb. Her spine arched, pressing her breast into my hand, begging for more. My other hand, then, danced across her stomach up to her other breast, both of them cupped in my hands. I pinched her nipples over the fabric, squeezing them until she whimpered in protest, and then I released them.
"God, Canaan, I'm getting close."
"Good, baby. Bring yourself there. Don't stop. Let me hear you--we're alone, the whole apartment is empty. So just let go." I whispered this in her ear, caressing her tits over the slippery fabric, pressing myself up against her, grinding into her butt, teasing us both. "Feel how hard my cock is? Just from watching you touch yourself like this."
"I want it..."
"I know."
"Take my clothes off, please? I want to be naked with you."
I peeled the hem of her shirt up over her boobs, just beneath her chin, and then unhooked her bra and let the cups sag. "How's that?"
"More...more!"
"Are you close?"
"So close."
I palmed her cheek and tilted her face to mine, briefly yet intensely kissing her, tasting her mouth, demanding her tongue; her fingers flew around her clit, and I tugged a bra cup down to bare her breast, flicking her nipple with my fingernail.
"Oh--oh--oh fuck, Canaan, I'm there, god, I'm there!"
She leaned back against me, hips pivoting, legs bowing, bending, head hanging on her neck, mouth open, whimpers escaping her lips as she ground herself into her own fingers, faster and faster and faster, and I bared her other breast and rolled both nipples between thumb and forefinger in time with the rhythm of her touch.
A soft, breathless scream, then, as she came, knees dipping as the orgasm washed over her.
I scooped her up in my arms and laid her on the bed. "Keep touching yourself," I instructed. "Keep coming, honey."
"Oh...god, I don't know if I can."
"Try."
I tugged her jeans off, bringing her panties with them, and her knees immediately drew up, heels together, baring her pussy to me, her fingers dipping in again, dragging more essence over her clit, and then she began tentatively touching herself all over again, slowly. Careful to not dislodge the makeshift blindfold, I eased her T-shirt off, and then her bra, leaving her naked.
"I don't wanna touch myself anymore, Cane," she breathed. "I want you to touch me."
I knelt on the bed, kissing the inside of her knee. "Like that?"
"More, god--more!"
"Greedy, aren't you?" I murmured against her skin.
"Fuck yes. I need you, Cane."
I dragged my lips up her thigh, teasing, kissing, licking, nipping, closer and closer to her core, and then just as I reached it, I began all over again at her opposite knee, kissing and teasing my way up.
"Quit teasing me, goddammit," Aerie snarled, fingers moving faster now as she neared her second orgasm.
"No, I don't think I will." I nipped the velvety soft silk of the inside of her thigh, so close to her core my jaw brushed her hand as she touched her clit. "You like this."
"Fuck yes, I do. But I want your mouth, Cane...please."
"You have my mouth," I teased.
She growled, a feral sound of irritation. "You know what I mean, damn you."
"Getting a bit vulgar, aren't you?" I murmured.
She just moaned in response, her spine arching off the bed as she fingered herself closer and closer to climax. Watching her near the edge, I knew my need to touch her, taste her, wouldn't be denied much longer.
I nudged my middle finger against her opening, and she gasped.
"Oh fuck, please, please touch me. Please."
I slid my finger inside her curling it upward and inward, hunting for that secret place inside her that drove her so wild. I'd only hit it a few times, and she'd absolutely lost her mind every single time.
"Like this?"
"Yeah...god, yes, right there..."
Her fingers were circling madly now, crazily, flying around her clit so fast they were a blur. I watched her carefully, gently and slowly massaging that spot inside her, hearing her cry out with increasing intensity, until I knew she was at the very edge.
At the very last second, I nudged her hand away, buried my face against her pussy, and the taste of her intimate essence filled my mouth. She yelped in surprise, and then both hands tangled in my hair, piling it on top of my head like I did with hers, and she clutched me against herself as I devoured her, holding nothing back, my finger inside her, adding a second, squelching them in and out under my chin, my tongue flying. She screamed, then arched totally off the bed, spasming against me.
"HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT!" she gasped, flopping down onto the bed as her climax passed through her. "Holy shit, Canaan." She reached up to peel off the blindfold, and I stopped her.
"Oh no, I'm not done with you yet, babe." I pinioned her hands, crawling up her body to hover over her. "That's just the start."
"Just...just the start?" she squeaked. "Oh--oh god. I like the sound of this."
"Wanna know what's next? I bet you can't guess."
She pressed her wrists together and offered them to me. "You tie me up and have your filthy way with me?"
"Hmmm, tempting, but no." I kissed her, quickly.
"What's next, then?"
I moved off the bed to stand beside it, helping her sit up and pivot so she was sitting on the edge again. I folded the bandana and pressed it into her hands. "Now you blindfold me, without taking yours off."
"Ummmm, okay?"
Her hands reached out, searching, and I took one of her hands, leading it to my shoulder. She shifted forward on the bed, exploring my body with her hands, and then she stood up, using me to pull herself upright. Touching my face with the tips of her fingers like a blind woman, she gently found my eyes, and then placed the fabric over my eyes, leaning against me to tie it behind my head.
"There, how's that?" she asked.
"Good. Can't see a thing."
She remained leaning against me, touching kisses to my cheekbone, my forehead, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. "Now what?"
"Now get me naked."
"This is crazy, Canaan--we're both blindfolded now."
"Exactly. It's all about feel now, sweetheart."
"You're rather crafty, aren't you, Mr. Badd?"
"Why yes I am, Miss Kingsley."
She went slowly, beginning with my shirt, peeling it up and over my head. Her fingers trailed down my chest, sliding over the ridges of my abs. Without sight, I had no way of knowing where her hands were going next, heightening the anticipation. Once my shirt was off, she spent a moment exploring my upper body with her hands, roaming over my shoulders, down my back, up my abs, palming my pecs, into my hair. Then I felt her move, felt her hands sliding down the backs of my legs, to my shoes, which she untied; I toed the shoes off and she peeled off my socks, and then I felt her hands roaming upward once more. To the fly of my jeans. I hissed in surprise and then moaned in pleasure as she pressed her lips against my stomach, kneeling in front of me, kissing across my abs, up to my diaphragm, and then back down, kissing and kissing and kissing as she unbuttoned the fly and lowered the zipper. Her hands hooked into the waist of my jeans and boxers at the same time, tugging them down as her mouth continued its slow, loving exploration, delving downward as she gradually removed my jeans and underwear. My heart was racing, my mouth was dry, and I was shaky--an intense physical reaction to something as simple as her mouth kissing my body.
She's gone down on me on numerous occasions but somehow these trailing, dancing, exploratory kisses were leaving an intense and permanent brand on me, on my skin, on my heart.
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