by Niles, Abby
“Aidan. Yes!”
Her voice penetrated through the haze of the Drall. No!
His beast hissed, and the instinct pummeled him with encouragement while the last shred of his awareness fought for clarity.
Finish it.
She’ll hate you. Dsert you. Leave you like Liam.
It won’t happen. Finish it!
Bite.
Mark.
Take.
Make her yours.
She trusts you.
He clenched his teeth, pushing hot air through his nostrils as he fought for control. His beast tore at his insides. He opened his mouth once more, clenched his teeth again. He wanted her. Had to have her. But not like this.
When her body went slack under his, his beast howled while his human side slumped with relief. Her fingers tenderly combed through his hair, easing the pain of the fight.
He climbed back up Jaylin’s body and held her close, afraid for her to see his face, afraid of what it would give away. As he rearranged her skirt back over her thighs, he kissed the top of her head, squeezing his eyes closed.
He’d almost ruined everything, had almost betrayed her. And he now knew why.
Her aggression pushed the instinct into overdrive. Intensified everything.
If Jaylin became aware of this, she’d push him away again. He finally had her trust, had her willingly in his arms, laughing with him, smiling at him. Being herself with no guard up. He’d be damned if anything ruined that. There was only one way he could think of to ensure she didn’t become suspicious.
He had to be the aggressor at all times. Keep her sated. Tired. So thoroughly fucked, that she’d never again feel the need to jump him because he’d already done the jumping.
If he had one more Drall attack like he’d just experienced, he would bond to her. He knew it with such certainty, he hugged her closer. Then she would hate him. And he would hate himself for failing her after she’d finally given him her trust.
No, he’d take every precaution he needed to make sure it didn’t happen, except for the obvious one: letting her go. That he could never do.
As she rubbed her hand over his chest, he realized she had no clue how close she’d come to wearing his mark.
Good.
Because she never would.
Chapter Eight
Jaylin snuggled closer to the hard chest warming her back. Aidan made a sleepy noise and buried his face in the crook of her neck. The arm around her waist tightened. Smiling, she opened her eyes and blinked against the bright light that filled the room.
What time was it?
She craned her head up to glance at the clock on the nightstand.
A little after noon.
No shock there. What time had they finally fallen into an exhausted sleep after the previous night’s sex-a-thon? Four, five o’clock?
Aidan had been insatiable. One orgasm after another had ripped through her—for hours. He’d give her time to settle from each earth-shattering release before he’d use deliberate touches to make her body come to life again. All done while spooned behind her, denying her the ability to touch him in return. And when he had her moaning for more, he’d either roll her onto her belly or back and then stand or kneel between her legs and slip inside.
The continued denial of the weight of his body and the inability to slide her fingers over him as she wanted was an added aphrodisiac. All she could do was fist her hands in the comforter or in her hair and feel. He’d controlled what happened in that bed, controlled how he’d made her come, and she’d loved every minute of it.
But today it was her turn. She’d have to be sneaky though, having learned very quickly that Aidan liked to dominate. He wasn’t going to give that up easily.
A grumble came from Aidan’s belly and Jaylin smiled. They’d burned a ton of calories over the course of the evening. After the incredible night he’d given her, the least she could do was feed the man.
Slipping from beneath his arm, she paused when Aidan made another noise, but he then rolled onto his back, his arm flung above his head. Out. Cold. Now would be a perfect time to do some deliberate caressing of her own, but his stomach rumbled again. She’d get the food first, and then wake him by kissing her way down his chest.
As she stood, the muscles in her thighs quivered, reminding her of how he’d had them wrapped around his shoulders, spread wide apart or pushed close to her chest as he’d taken her. She was lucky she could even move this morning.
She grabbed his shirt off the floor and slipped it on, liking the idea of being dressed only in something of his when she roused him from sleep. Could already see the smug smile he’d give her as he realized what she wore.
The wonderful woodsy scent that was Aidan surrounded her. She brought a fistful of fabric up to her nose and breathed deep. The man smelled so good, had such a distinct scent, that just catching a whiff of him made her body respond, nipples tighten.
Releasing the material, she fumbled around for a button, then smiled as she remembered.
No buttons. She’d popped every one of them off in a fit of passion—a passion she’d never felt for another man, and possibly never would again. Scary thought.
She overlapped the edges of the shirt and held it closed by crossing her arms over her chest. Typically she’d just let it hang open, but she wasn’t sure of Rafael’s schedule and the last thing she wanted to do was shock the lovable older man with a peep show.
As she started to tiptoe out of the room, she spotted a discarded condom wrapper lying by the bed that had missed the wastebasket beside the nightstand. She picked it up and tossed it in.
Aidan had surprised her with that.
They’d both lost their heads on the deck and hadn’t used one. A definite slippery slope that neither of them could afford to walk on. She’d been prepared to tell him that, but he’d beaten her to it by apologizing and swearing it wouldn’t happen again. And it hadn’t. The sounds of ripping foil had been as constant as her pleas for more.
Thankfully the oops wouldn’t result in anything more than an oops. She was too close to the end of her cycle to stress over getting pregnant. To top it off, Aidan had assured her that she wasn’t fertile, that her scent wasn’t marred by the slight acidic smell of ovulation. She’d known he’d wanted to relieve any undue stress, and it had helped having him confirm her assumptions. If a pregnancy occurred…she didn’t even want to think about how overbearing Aidan would become. The unnatural willpower he used to keep the Drall contained would most certainly snap.
But Aidan was in control, and she had nothing to worry about. At least she hoped not.
She padded out of the room and into the kitchen, then chuckled.
So much for making Aidan breakfast in bed. Rafael had beaten her to it. Against the far wall was a buffet loaded with an assortment of breakfast foods, ranging from buttery croissants, to muffins, to sausage, eggs, and bacon.
She had no idea what Aidan liked, so she picked up a plate and started putting one of everything on it. She had just added a silver dollar pancake when, from behind her, Aidan asked, “Whatcha doing?”
Sighing, she closed her eyes. Guess she wasn’t going to get to kiss her way down his chest. Bummer.
Jaylin turned around with the plate held in front of her, trying to ignore the enticing naked skin only a few feet away. He’d slipped on a pair of maroon boxer briefs. The tight material hugged him so that every manly ridge of his well-endowed package was displayed for her viewing pleasure. Swallowing, she shifted as warmth spread through her belly. “Bringing you breakfast in bed.”
His gaze was nowhere near the food, but much lower. The warmth intensified to all-out fire, and she was very aware of how the shirt had fallen open in front, revealing her from between her beasts to the apex of her thighs with only a plate in between.
A growl permeated the air before he stalked over to her, grabbed the dish, tossed it on the table and whirled her around. Hands roamed over her body, pinching, kneading…o
h, yes, rubbing, all while he walked her forward until her body made contact with the wall. Her head fell back against his chest as Aidan, once again, made her body become a puddle of desire, allowing him anything.
The now-familiar sound of ripping foil hit her ears before he slowly pushed inside her. Jaylin reached behind her, sliding her palm across his hip and down over his ass, wanting to at least touch him, but Aidan grabbed her hands in both of his and placed them flat against the wall.
“Keep them there,” he demanded as he gripped her hips, keeping her still as he drove up—over and over. She leaned her cheek against the wood, breath stuttering out with each forceful thrust until her body was a taut rope of arousal.
“Aidan, please,” she breathed out.
Again, fingers probed the folds between her thighs and she widened her legs, giving him better access to the throbbing that needed the most attention. When he touched her, she cried out, simply relieved to have the ache massaged, knowing release was soon within her grasp.
The added friction against her clit combined with the powerful, even thrusts of his cock sent her straight over the edge and she came apart, her fingers curling against the wall as she moaned through her orgasm. He followed quickly, a guttural groan warming her skin as he stiffened behind her. One, two, three more slow thrusts and his movements stilled. Aidan nuzzled against her neck, lightly kissing and nipping the skin. “Hmm. Now this is a meal I can wake up to every morning.”
She leaned back against him, tilting her head a bit more to the side. “You’re going to make it to where I can’t walk, you know.”
He tweaked her nipple, his other hand exploring the naked skin of her stomach. “A little sore?”
“Deliciously so.”
Another growl came from him before he withdrew and smacked her ass. “Sounds like you need some recoup time. Go get your bathing suit on. We’ll go down to the beach.”
“You mean birthday suit?”
His fingers dug into her hips as he rocked against her. “Unless you do indeed want to get to where you can’t move, go put some clothes on.”
Sending him a pout over her shoulder, she hurried to their bedroom.
Their bedroom.
An automatic thought. A dangerous thought. It wasn’t their bedroom. It was simply the room they were sharing until they left, one of the many places they’d fuck over the next two days. Nothing more.
She shouldn’t have to remind herself that, and it scared her that she did.
Aidan was simply a sex toy, a wonderfully arousing, multiple-orgasm sex toy.
After digging through the suitcases, she found her black bikini with white polka dots and pink trim, then slipped it on. With the tiny strings that held the material together at her hips, the suit left little to the imagination. Jaylin smiled. This would definitely keep things on the sex playing fields. One tug and the suit would fall right off.
Yummy.
She grabbed her makeup bag and found two ponytail holders. After she put her hair in low pigtails that made the strands cascade down the front of her shoulders, she sashayed back into the kitchen, very aware of the way Aidan had stilled in pouring some liquor into a blender. The way he watched her, all predator-like, ready to jump, made her feel she had some control.
Stopping in the middle of the kitchen, she held her hands up and turned around, giving him a view from every angle. “You like?”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “I like. Very much.”
She gave him a saucy smile. “Good.”
As she sidled up next to him, she lifted her face. When he gave her lips a quick smack with his, she jerked back, shocked at what she’d done. She’d invited his kiss. Again, automatically. Like a couple. What in the world was happening to her?
He gave an affectionate tug on one of her pigtails, then handed her a picnic basket.
“I put some food in there, along with a blanket. There should be two chairs already set up on the beach. Go on without me. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Need to get our drinks ready and throw on my swim trunks.”
She didn’t argue, needing to get away from him and collect herself. Here she’d been so worried about Aidan losing control, and it seemed that she was the one doing the losing instead. The really frightening part was that she didn’t realize what she was doing until after she’d done it. What kind of signals was she sending Aidan?
It couldn’t be good. Was he silently tallying these small victories, believing she wouldn’t be able to leave him when they returned home?
After setting the picnic basket down, she sank into the mesh material of the beach chair. Would she be able to leave him? She enjoyed being in his arms so much, enjoyed just being with him. Somehow Aidan made her forget her troubles—forget the struggles at home that were still very much there and waiting for her return.
A failing practice, a best friend who stayed by her side regardless of how broke she was because of Jaylin’s decisions, and a mother who sat at home waiting for death.
How could he make her forget all of those things? Especially the last one.
That could be her in a few years if she let her emotions control her.
Just last week she’d stopped by to see her mom. She was cleaning. The woman was always cleaning. Her mother had never been so OCD about her floors until Jaylin’s father died. In the beginning, even as a teen, she’d known it was a way for her mom to cope, a way to not think. But after twenty years, the loss of her mate should’ve become easier, lessened some of the compulsive tendencies she’d acquired from his death.
A movement to her left broke into her thoughts. Aidan trudged across the beach toward her, balancing two coconut cups with tiny colorful paper umbrellas in the crook of one arm and a cooler in the other. The wind blew up his hair and her insides gave a funny jump of affection. Jaylin swallowed and glanced away. Lust she could deal with. Butterflies and roller-coaster dips in the stomach she couldn’t. And after reminding herself about her mother, how could she possibly still feel anything?
Her heart was becoming her worst enemy.
Aidan sat down beside her and handed her a drink. She took a sip, the wonderful coconut taste shocking her conflicting thoughts right out of her head. “Wow, Aidan. You missed your calling in life. You should’ve been a bartender.”
He chuckled. “Pretty damn good, right?”
“I’ve had plenty of piña coladas, but this is excellent.”
“It’s the secret ingredient.”
“Which is?”
“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, now would it? Besides, then you’d be able to make them yourself and I can’t have that.”
“It can’t be that hard to figure out.” She took another sip. She tasted the coconut and a hint of pineapple, but there was something else she couldn’t put her finger on. “What is that?”
“All I’m going to say is you can’t get a drink to taste like that by using premade bottle mixers. All fresh ingredients, baby, with a little added bonus.”
She swished another mouthful around and then gave up. “If you won’t tell me, you’ll unfortunately have to keep going back and making me more.”
He opened the cooler. “You can have as much as you want.”
The appearance of a full pitcher of the drink shocked a laugh out of her. “You’re always prepared, aren’t you?”
“Most of the time. I’ve been caught unprepared a few times and hated the outcome.”
Her smile faded, noticing the seriousness of the words under his carefree attitude. Their conversation from the night before came to mind. “Is that what happened with your career? You were caught unprepared?”
Sighing, he slumped back against the chair. “Already? Really?”
“I can’t help that your ‘unprepared’ comment made me think of last night. I’d like to know what happened.”
“There’s really not much to say. I took my dad’s obsession and magnified it. Little business takeovers didn’t appeal to me. Large corporations did. The
harder and more complicated the takeover, the more satisfaction I got.”
“Is that how you got a reputation as a bad guy?”
“Businesses feared me. Knew if I got my sights on them, willingly or not, I would one day own them. I ate that up, thrived off it.”
“What changed?”
“My last takeover. Funny enough it wasn’t a huge corporate invasion. It wasn’t even an actual takeover. I saw a little homemade product that promised a fortune, and went after it in a way I’m ashamed of today.”
“What in the world did you do?”
“I sold out morals for money.”
She wished she was surprised by the admission, but after having a small taste of the other Aidan O’Connell, she knew he was capable of almost anything when something he really wanted was denied him. “I need more details here. Give it to me from the top.”
He winced. “I’m not sure if I want to tell you, Jaylin. You’ll hear what a slimeball I was.”
“I saw firsthand what a jerk you can be, Aidan, and I’m still here. Why? Because I know that isn’t who you want to be anymore. I promise not to judge you for past mistakes. Okay?”
Surprisingly, she realized she meant it. As much as she could use what he said to make it easier to walk away, she wouldn’t. Whatever he’d done hadn’t been done by the man sitting beside her now.
He stayed silent, his expression tense, lips pressed together.
“You can tell me.”
He looked at her, finally nodding. “I used to be a cold son of a bitch, Jaylin. I embraced it, feeling it was exactly what I had to be to succeed. All it took was one tiny woman to open my eyes to the monster I’d become.”
“A woman?” She shoved back the flare of jealousy that ignited in her chest. Now—or even ever—was not the time for such emotion.
“Tracy Platt. She was the manager of a family-owned general store out in Podunk, America. Population one thousand eighty. I was on my way to a business meeting on an especially difficult takeover. I’d taken the car for a change, instead of flying. I love the mountains, the winding roads, the scenery. It clears my head. If I’d flown, who knows where I’d be today. Probably still getting my kicks from stealing businesses out from other hard-working people.”