by Jordan Marie
“No getting in our bed with clothes on,” I rumble, once I release her nipple with a popping noise that seems extra loud in the room. I bite against the bottom of the fleshy globe and suck, knowing there will be a bruise there in the morning.
“Aden!” she cries, the heels of her feet thrusting against the mattress, her body moving up in the air.
She liked that. She liked that a lot.
I move my hand down to the soft fabric of her pants, hooking my fingers in the waistband, while I bite into her breast again. Her body jerks upward, and I pull on her pants, sliding them over her ass and down, as my tongue soothes her breast.
“You’re so beautiful, Hope,” I whisper. I hardly recognize my own voice. It’s hoarse and thick with hunger. It’s going to be hell holding myself back. I know if I pushed it, Hope would give into me. That’s not how I want this though. That’s not how I want any of this to go. I want her to be the one to push the issue—her to be the one to demand I take her body.
I have a lot to make up for with her and if I have to spend some time with blue balls… so be it.
I kiss down her stomach, tasting her skin as I go, and letting my tongue memorize the indention of her ribs as she stretches, the smooth, sweet texture, and the curve of her stomach.
“Oh God,” she moans, her voice not much more than a tortured whisper of breath, and I like it. It’s like whiskey that goes straight to my head. I could get drunk on this woman… So easily.
I flick my tongue against her navel, my hands braced on each of her hips. My fingers bite into her skin as the honeyed scent of her arousal reaches me. Jesus. It’s enough to bring a man to his knees. I want to bury my face between her thighs and drown.
“Christ, honey,” I groan. Her body tightens up beneath me. Her eyes open and I see the fear in them. I don’t know why she’s trying to hold herself away from me. It’s killing me that I can’t remember the past—and yet, at the same time, I’m glad I don’t. If I was such a bastard that I threw away Hope’s love and didn’t appreciate her or Jack, I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to be that person. “Shh… it’s okay. I promise you. We’re going to go slow. Tonight is all about you, honey. I only want to make you feel good.”
“I don’t think we should do this,” she whispers. “There’s things we need to talk about…I’m just not ready,” she adds, and I hate that even through the desire in her voice, I can hear fear in her words.
My first instinct is to stop, but something tells me if I keep backing off, I’m never going to get what I want. I may not remember my past, but I want Hope as my future. Everything inside of me is telling me that. I want—no… I need her back in my bed. I slide down to the foot of the bed, placing a kiss against her pussy, through her wet panties. I even lick against them, unable to stop myself.
Soon.
“I’m sorry, Aden,” she whispers. Her voice is full of regret, again I worry I’m pushing too hard, too soon—but, I don’t stop.
I hold her gaze in mine, and then I move her pants down her legs, throwing them into the corner.
“I’m not stopping, Hope.”
“But—”
“You can keep your panties on, tonight at least,” I answer, willing to only give her that small escape, even though it kills me. And then, because I know she needs it, I lie on my side beside her. She turns her head to look at me. There’s so many different emotions running across her face I can’t name one of them, but I do see the question in her eyes.
“Aden…” she murmurs, and then stops. Maybe she doesn’t know what she’s feeling either.
“I want you to keep your eyes on me, Hope. Look at me while I give you pleasure,” I order her, and my voice is commanding enough that it is an order.
“Is it normal to be… afraid?” she whispers.
“Afraid of me?” I ask, because I don’t like that idea at all and I wouldn’t have the first clue on how to fix that problem.
“No,” she whispers, and her hand comes up to touch the side of my face, her fingers pushing against my beard.
I place my hand over hers and then drag them down, sliding my fingers between hers and linking them. I keep our joined hands against my chest so she can feel the beating of my heart.
“I’m here with you, Hope. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not going to rush you. We’ll take this as easy as you want it,” I tell her, trying for reassurance and praying it helps.
I watch the movement of her throat as she swallows. Her tongue comes out to lick her lips as if she’s trying to fight against her nerves. I bend down and slide my tongue against hers, while carefully using my free hand to slide into her panties. Her body tenses and I stop, holding my hand against her heated pussy, to hold it and nothing else. She’s so wet I can feel her slick juices coat my hand almost instantly.
After a moment or two, her body softens, melting against the mattress again and indicating she’s relaxing. I tease her lips with my tongue. Hers darts shyly against mine, and I suck it into my mouth. She moans, unable to make the sound, but I can feel the vibration. I take over the kiss then, my tongue pushing inside her mouth, owning it, discovering everything I can and demanding more.
Hope is with me each step, her kiss becomes hungry, her tongue trying to war with mine. I push my fingers inside her little cunt. I wasn’t prepared. She’s had a child, and she’s so wet I didn’t go slow, but she’s tight. So fucking unbelievably tight that it’s all I can do to force my fingers inside of her. Her body jerks, as she tilts her hips to allow my fingers deeper.
I break away from her mouth and she cries out as I pull my fingers back and then thrust them hard, back inside her depths.
“Aden!” she cries and I love that she says my name. Fuck, I can feel my dick leaking pre-cum against my groin. I think it might be possible to get off by doing nothing more than finger fucking Hope and making her scream my name.
I keep on fucking her like this, fast and hard, her head moves back and forth as her hips push into each of my thrusts. Through it all she doesn’t let go of my hand. I won’t allow her to.
I pull my fingers out of her soaked cunt, flattening them and holding them against her clit.
“Look at me,” I tell her, though my voice comes out a throaty growl, sounding barely human. My body vibrates with the need to come, with the need to slam my cock inside of her and make her mine.
Soon. Not yet… but soon.
She turns her head to look at me, passion and need so thick in her gaze it shines from her eyes. I use my fingers, moving them in a circular motion around her clit. I go slow at first, then speed up.
“Aden, please,” she begs, getting just enough to drive her crazy but not push her over the edge.
“Hold your tit for me, Hope,” I command. She does it immediately, using her free hand to hold it, even pulling it towards me, needing anything I can give her. My mouth sucks her nipple in my mouth and I move my body, to allow me to change the direction of my fingers. I still keep my thumb on her clit, manipulating it, but I bury two fingers deep in her pussy just as I bite on her nipple.
She screams out my name, but lifts up so she uses my shoulder to stifle the loud yell, just as she comes, drenching my hand in her cum. Her body bows and shudders as her thighs tighten so she can ride out the wave.
Her teeth bite into my shoulder. She doesn’t do it easy and I fucking love it. This time it’s my body that shudders in response.
I slowly bring her back down, so that the room is left with the scent of her orgasm in the air, the sound of her ragged breathing and the pounding of my heart, as my body cries from not getting to come.
Through all of this our two hands have been joined and I’m in no hurry to let her go. I’m kissing her skin against her shoulder and collar bone, enjoying the salty flavor and just the thrill of being this close to her, when she pulls on her hand.
“I was going to… well, I thought I could make you… come,” she whispers, her flushed face going even darker. I keep our hands joined
, but roll on my back, and use my free hand to drag her body on top of mine—our hands trapped between us. Then, I kiss her forehead. She pulls her head back. An unspoken question is on her face, but then I don’t need her to ask it. I know what she’s thinking.
“Tonight was all for you, Hope. Just enjoy it.”
“But you didn’t…”
“I just got the biggest gift a man could have, honey. I’m good. More than good. Get some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow,” I whisper. Then I move her head and cradle it against my chest letting my fingers comb through her hair. It doesn’t take long before I feel her body relax into sleep and I follow after her within moments.
37
Hope
“Rise and shine, sleepy head!” I jerk up in bed, and though I’m instantly awake, what I am not, is happy about it.
I went to sleep like a baby last night, feeling a little bit guilty that Aden didn’t get his. I don’t know what to make of that. Does that happen? Are there actually men out there who will give a woman the big ‘O’, but not demand they get it back?
The way I melted for him, he had to know he could have anything he wanted. The way he stopped me from doing that, pulled me into him and kissed my forehead is haunting me. It was sweet. Sweet in a way I felt it through every part of me. Sweet in a way I felt cherished… I’ve never had that—never knew it even existed. I could feel how hard he was too. His dick pressed against me practically all night and still… he asked for nothing.
My eyes open slowly and they do that for one reason.
Coffee. Wonderful, remarkable morning caffeine, nectar of the gods.
“Give me,” I mumble reaching out to grab the mug from his hands.
“Cute,” he mutters, almost under his breath.
“What?” I ask, groaning as I down that first sip off coffee.
“You need to get going, Babe. We got shit to do.”
“We do? What time is it?”
“It’s six thirty.”
“Six thirty? In the morning?”
“Yeah. We’re going to be late.”
“Late for what?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise? Aden, it’s early.”
“We have a lot to do. Now get out of that bed before I have to drag you out,” he grins. “Although that could be fun,” he adds, clearly thinking about it.
“What are we doing?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise would it, but dress nice. We’re going out to dinner, too.”
“But…”
“No buts, unless it’s your butt…naked.”
“It’s too early for you be funny and cheerful.”
“Babe, get your ass moving.”
“What about the motel? Who’s going to watch it?”
“Got it covered.”
“Jack doesn’t like getting out of bed early,” I mumble, though in truth that’s me. It’s just when Jack sleeps I like to stay in bed late myself.
“Got it covered,” he repeats already walking back into the other part of our quarters. “But if you aren’t in that shower in the next five minutes, I’ll be in there to spank you and get you moving.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I growl—mostly to myself, because I figure he’s out of earshot. He proves me wrong however, when a moment late he peeks his head through the doorway.
“Trust me, honey. I’d dare. I’m itching to spank your ass.”
“Aden,” I gasp, because there’s no mistaking that intent.
“And what’s more, I bet you’d like it,” he says with a wink, before disappearing again. “Five minutes, Hope!” he calls as a reminder.
“Alright already!”
I lie there looking at the empty doorway. That familiar feeling of guilt hits me. I need to tell Aden the truth. Every day that goes by I’m feeling worse. I could defend my actions a little, but this Aden is not the Aden from before.
Which Aden would he turn into if I tell him the truth?
I can’t keep going like I am. I’m beginning to hate myself. I need to call White.
“Hope!” Aden calls from the other room.
I don’t respond, I get the feeling he doesn’t need an excuse to spank me. As interesting as that sounds, I’m not sure I want to go there, and especially not the way things are. I get in the shower and I go through possible outcomes with Aden and myself. No matter which choice I make, they all end horribly in my mind.
I’m going to lose him.
He was never mine to begin with.
I’m going to lose him and I’m starting to… really care about him.
I’m going through the motions, drying off and throwing on clothes. I’m just about to blow dry and tame my hair when I hear a large crash coming from the other room.
“Jack! Aden!” I cry, my legs carrying me quickly to the source of the noise. When I make it into the kitchen, Aden is kneeling on the floor a bowl of cereal spilled all around him and he’s holding his head.
“Daddy sick,” Jack says, his little voice full of worry, as I go down on my knees, wrapping my arms around Aden.
“Honey what’s wrong?” I whisper.
“My head,” he moans, quietly holding it. “Pain…”
The last word is a gasp, that tells me it’s so bad it hurts for him to talk. My mind immediately starts making plans. I need to load Jack up, getting a few of his toys and somehow get Aden into my car.
“What’s going on?”
“Daria? What are you doing—”
“Aden called and asked if I could watch the motel today for you guys. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. I’m going to take him to the doctor—”
“I don’t want to go, Hope,” Aden whispers. “I had plans for us today.”
“We can do them once we know you’re okay,” I tell him, and I can’t stop myself from kissing his forehead, as if that will somehow stop the pain.
I somehow get Aden to my car and the entire time I’m praying that he will be alright. I can’t deny it anymore.
I do care about him… more than I ever should.
38
Aden
“How’s the pain sweetheart?” Hope asks, clearly worried.
I’m reclining on a hospital bed in the urgent care center at the hospital. I got here and they shot me full of pain meds and steroids for some reason. Then they ran a bunch of scans and tests. That was way over an hour ago. We haven’t heard from anyone since, and now we’re sitting and waiting—and ruining the day.
“It’s okay, barely a dull thud,” I lie. It hurts like hell, but it’s so much better than it was before, that I can deal. “I’m just pissed I can’t take my girl out on her special day I had planned.”
“You didn’t need to take me anywhere. We just need to get you healthy.”
“I know I didn’t need to—I wanted to, there’s a difference.”
“It’s sweet of you to even plan anything,” she murmurs.
Sometimes when she talks she doesn’t look me in the eyes. Especially if I’ve done something nice for her. I guess that’s not that surprising. From everything she’s told me I had to be a grade-A bastard in the past. She’s not used to me being good to her. That’s changing. She’s letting me in, and I’m going slow—no matter how much my dick protests. I’m going to prove myself to her.
“Mr. Smith, I’m Doctor Joseph. We just got your test—”
“Smith? I think you have the wrong patient,” I tell him confused.
“I’m sorry? Your folder clearly says—”
“Uh… I think I can… I mean I’m pretty sure I can clear this up,” Hope says. My gaze cuts to her and she’s wringing her hands together in her lap. “When Aden… my husband was first brought in after his accident, it took me a bit to get to here. Since he had no memory, the nurses registered him as a Mr. Smith,” she mumbles.
“She’s probably right, Doc. I’m sorry. I’m Aden Hard-Acre.”
“Hardeker?”
I rub th
e side of my face. How the fuck did I get through life with a name like this?
“Close enough. You want to tell me what is going on?”
“You’ll have to get the admissions department to change the information, they also need your husband’s credentials,” the doctor says, still looking at his paperwork confused.
“Credentials?” Hope asks, her voice tight. This mess is really getting to her. I hate worrying her.
“His social security number, birth date, things of that nature.”
“Oh… his wallet was stolen and—”
“You can just go by and give them the dates. They can pull up whatever they need with just his birthdate and social security number.”
“I…of course. I’ll do that today. I just want to make sure Aden is okay,” Hope speaks up, squeezing my hand tight
I don’t know. I mean, I can’t remember, and everything that Hope has told me about my life before indicates I was an idiot and that I didn’t deserve Hope or Jack. Still, having Hope squeeze my hand, trying to reassure me and talking to the doctor is strange… it makes me feel… weird. Am I used to not having anyone in my life that cared? Hope said there was no one to call, that I had no family. How long have I been on my own? Is that what turned me into the bastard who didn’t appreciate the family I had?
I bring our joined hands up and kiss the back of hers gently.
She turns to look at me and almost immediately her eyes look down at our hands. Something flashes across her face that I don’t like. In that moment she looks lost, and I guess that’s my fault. It’s just further evidence that I’ve hurt her in the past.
“Okay Mr. Hard—”
“Just call me Aden,” I tell him, because I’d rather not hear that name ever again.
“You’ve had a rough go of it. I know. I had hoped we’d have better news for you, but the truth is we can’t really find an explanation for your amnesia. Of course, our resources here aren’t great and I still say you need to follow up with a head trauma specialist in Boise.”