by Lilly Wilde
As his cock pulsed one final time, I continued stroking him. He was not as hard as before … but it was Aiden, which meant he was still more than able to satisfy any notion I could concoct. But not tonight. I wanted it simpler. I wanted it right.
My fingers, wet with the thickness of his semen, still gripped his length as I moved my hand up and down, stroking his erection. He knew what I wanted. I saw it in his eyes. I felt it in his cock as it hardened for me. I sensed it in the air around us as I whispered soft, dirty words about how tight my pussy was, how hot and how wet it was for him.
“Fuck, Aria.” He growled. “You drive me crazy.”
“Then we’re on equal footing in every way, because you drive me just as crazy.”
He was still positioned beneath me with his legs bent, the reverse missionary position placing his cock at a perfect angle—straight up.
“Aria,” he groaned, his large hands grasping my breasts as I sheathed his girth, slowly easing down, filling and expanding my core. His penis was long and thick, engorged with lust. He made me feel tight—too tight. But the singe of pain wasn’t enough to deter me. Taking him deep inside me—as deep as I could go—I absorbed the pain of his entrance, my mouth agape as I claimed what was mine. I started to move. I was tempted to go faster, harder, but that would be another time. For now, I wanted it soft, gentle and sweet. I had complete control of it all. I moved up and down on him, every angle, every plunge, it was all under my control, and Aiden was all the better for it. We both were.
“Ahh,” I panted as I sank to the root, my insides clenching around his cock. Aiden’s eyes rolled back in his head.
“No, baby. Eyes on me,” I said. “Watch me make love to you.” I wanted to see the expression on his face. I wanted to see the liquid molten darkness of his irises. I wanted them to tell me how desperately he craved my hot, wet flesh contracting around the thick hardness of his.
Aiden’s eyes were hot on my face; and his expression confirmed what I was already feeling.
“Yes. That’s it,” I said, rolling my body over his and filling my core with every inch of his thick penis. I felt it everywhere. The walls of my sex squeezed him, over and over, contracting and expanding. Our passion was hot—my pussy was tight and his cock was deep. It was an overindulgence of pleasure, as if millions upon millions of pleasure points were colliding inside me.
I felt the change in him, he was there. Aiden came with a low groan, whispering my name, as his seed coursed, blazing inside me, and pulled at my own orgasm. My hips rotated, my sex squeezing, squeezing, squeezing.
“Shit,” he grunted. “Ahh, Aria.”
I milked him, cried out to him, his frame shuddering beneath me as I gave in to my own need, coming with him, releasing it all, and spiraling in long, deep waves.
I released Aiden’s legs, and he reached for me, pulling me to his chest. He rolled us over and buried his face in the side of my neck, his hold on my body tightening. When he finally lifted his head, I was alarmed to see tears shimmering in his eyes.
I touched his cheek. “What’s wrong?”
He pulled my hand from his jaw, brushing it with his lips. “Thank you for giving me the chance to love you.”
*****
Standing on the patio, I breathed a sigh, my gaze absorbing the spectacular view of the Caribbean as a gentle breeze whispered around me. I didn’t want to say goodbye to our private paradise. It had been like a second honeymoon, one that rekindled and strengthened a bond that would never break. Every moment was perfect, and I was sad that it had come to an end.
“The crew’s here. I’m afraid it’s time to go,” Aiden said, having stepped behind me. His arms encircled my waist and he buried his face in my hair.
“This was so perfect. I don’t think I can say goodbye to all of it just yet.”
“We’ll be back,” Aiden said. “Whenever you want. And if you aren’t opposed, I think we should come here every year to renew our vows.”
Turning to face him, I kissed his full, perfect lips. “I’d like that.”
“I can’t wait to bring Lyric,” he said, with a wide smile.
We’d have a lifetime of fun-in-the-sun days here, I was sure of it. I could picture Lyric now, running around, tossing sand at his parents and giggling the entire time. “Remember that day in my office when you made a comment about our story not ending?”
“Yes,” Aiden replied.
“I don’t think that will ever happen. Our story will go on forever.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“The anniversary of Mom’s death. How could you forget?” Bianca asked. “But then again, maybe you didn’t want to remember.”
“Bianca, please,” I said. “Let’s not do this again. I thought we’d worked through this.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just having a bad day.”
“Well, I don’t want to be your punching bag. But I can be your big sister. Why don’t you and Lia come over? Stay the night.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll tell her. And … I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I disconnected the call. This was horrible. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten. It was that I knew Mom wasn’t dead. But I had to give the pretense of a grieving daughter, and I couldn’t afford slip-ups like that. They only led to an urge to tell them about our parents.
After the call with Bianca, something in the back of my mind nagged at me. Something I’d set aside with plans to pick up at a later time. I went to my office and pulled out the manuscript and started to read. It wasn’t very long. I glanced at my watch. I could probably read it all before bed. I thumbed through the pages and a picture fell to my desk. Picking it up, I covered my mouth to silence my scream. It was of the couple I’d seen in Italy—the man and woman standing beneath the awning. I flipped the picture over, and found two dates on the back: my wedding date … and that of my parents.
With bated breath, I sat at my desk and started reading. It was the story of a young woman who’d met a man on her summer of travel across Italy. It was the story of my mom and dad.
*****
Lyric was at Dianna’s, so that meant alone time with my husband, but where the hell was he? As was the norm, I checked his office first, but he wasn’t there. I was about to look in the gym when a noise sounded from the kitchen. Aiden was standing at the counter, wearing sweats and a Harvard baseball cap.
“What are you eating?” I asked.
“Not what I’d prefer to be eating, that’s for sure.”
I stepped closer to see, but he moved the bowl.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Once I’d done as he asked, he encircled me, wrapping me in his arms.
“Don’t open them until I say.”
“Okay.” Something cold touched my lips.
“Taste it, and then you tell me what I’m eating.” He traced it over my open mouth and then he slid it between my lips.
“Mmm.”
“Good, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Open your eyes, babe.”
“Couldn’t you have just as easily told me?” I asked, stepping from his embrace.
“Yeah, but my way is more fun.”
“So is this what you do when I’m not watching? Load up on pineapple?”
He moved his hand over his crotch. “A guy’s got to do whatever necessary to keep his girl coming back for more.”
“You’re horrible,” I said, walking away from him.
“Come for a run with me,” Aiden said.
“Sure. Give me a second to change. After last night’s dinner, I need to get in more than a run.”
“Says who?” he asked.
“Says me. I don’t really want to have to stuff myself into my clothes.”
“Buy new ones. I think a little extra weight would be sexy as hell on you.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I smiled and shoo
k my head. “I’ll be right back.”
*****
I wanted to get in some ab and core exercises, so after two miles, I jogged back to the house, leaving Aiden to run an extra three miles by himself. I was focused on getting in a good workout. Finishing up my last rep of oblique crunches, I did a few stretches, startled when I lifted my head to find I was being watched. Aiden was sitting on the weight bench. His skin was glistening with sweat and he was still wearing that hat, with the brim flipped to the back. He looked like more of a sexy-as-sin bad boy than a highly respected businessman. Either way, I’d never tire of looking at him. My lady parts were already tingling.
“You’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard, baby. Are you trying to whittle down to nothing?” he asked.
“Just getting ready for you, Mr. Raine. Don’t you think I know what’s coming? I’m sure you’re planning to make up for lost time.”
“Oh, you think so, huh?”
“Mmm hmm.”
His gaze moved appreciatively over me. “Do you know what I think?”
“What?”
“That yoga pants were created with you in mind.”
“Is that so?”
“Definitely,” he said, tilting his head to the side, still studying me. “As a matter of fact, if I didn’t know you, and saw you in those, I’d follow you around all day.”
I took a seat on the exercise ball, interested in knowing where this was headed. “So instead of being a man about it and approaching me, you’d reduce yourself to creepy stalker status?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Some women drive men to do crazy things.”
“So you’d follow me around like a little puppy?”
He chuckled. “Oh, is that how you’d see me?”
“If you approached me … probably not.”
“Would you want me to approach you?”
“Maybe. A little attention from a hot guy makes for a healthy ego, but to be honest, it wouldn’t work out in your favor.”
“Why is that?” he asked.
“Because I have a jealous husband who’s totally obsessed with me. As a matter of fact, he’s a bit of a maniac, so I’m pretty sure he’d kick your ass.”
“An obsessed maniac, huh?”
“Yup.”
He winked at me. “I can see why. He’s a very lucky man.”
“That he is,” I said.
“I would’ve stolen you away from him, though.”
I grabbed a towel and blotted the moisture from my skin. “And how would you have done that?”
“I have a very particular set of skills.”
“Is that right, Liam Neeson?”
He threw his head back, a hearty laugh issuing from his chest. “I’m serious. After one date, I’d be all you could think about.”
“Is that confidence talking, or arrogance?” I asked.
“Both. I’d love to show you why.”
I held up my wedding ring. “Married, remember? Besides, I don’t need some creepy stalker trying to get into my panties.”
“Come here.”
“No.”
With a subtle shake of his head, he walked toward me, removing the cap and his shirt and tossing them in his path. I bit my bottom lip, drinking him in and absorbing the pleasure of his lean muscular frame.
When he reached me, he turned me so that I was facing the large wall-to-wall mirror. “I’m going to show you how I muffle that sassy backtalk,” he said, and reached into my pants.
“I’m all sweaty,” I protested.
“I don’t care,” he said.
One hand cupped my throat, while the other slid further into my yoga pants. With his knee, he forced my thighs further apart, giving him room to play.
He looked up at our image in the mirror. “Watch,” he said.
His fingers opened the petals of my sex, and then he applied an absolute minimum of pressure on my clit, almost to the point where it felt more like soft vibrations.
“Oh, shit.” My legs nearly gave way.
“So,” he whispered, “do you like that?”
“Maybe.”
He moved his fingers further down, sliding them inside me. Moving in and out. “Does this turn you on? Watching us? Watching me do this to you?”
My eyes were locked on the image of the couple in the mirror. And hell yes, I was more than a little hot for the man holding me in place while he fingered my pussy.
“So stubborn,” he said. “But that’s fine.” His fingers slipped out of me. “I enjoy you more when you’re like this.” He swept me into his arms and carried me from the gym to the adjacent room.
I looked up at him, already enjoying his little experiment, but I wouldn’t let on that I was. Instead I’d play the role of the stubborn wife. I would fare much better that way.
Opening the door to the masseuse studio, Aiden set me down and stripped me of my top.
“Shoes,” he said.
I kicked off my sneakers, and then he was sliding my yoga pants down my legs. Once I was naked, he sat me on the massage table.
“Lie back,” he said.
Aiden spread my legs and, not wasting any time, brought his finger to the side of my clit, his touch so light it felt as though a feather was tracing the sides of the little bud. While keeping in contact with the sides of my clit, his fingers started to stroke up and down, hardly moving them at all. His motions so slight, it felt like gentle vibrations teasing and taunting me. I felt the tension building. I wanted more pressure from his fingers, but when I moved my hips he shook his head.
“Keep still.”
“I can’t.”
“Just focus,” he whispered. “If you do as I say, the whole experience will feel like a long, extended orgasm.”
“Ahh. That feels …”
“Does your husband do it like this?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t”
Aiden smiled.
“He does it better,” I taunted.
His dark brow lifted. “Is that so?”
Before I could further provoke him, he’d spread me open and buried his face in my cleft. His tongue speared into me. He was like a wild animal, spreading me wider and lapping at the delicate flesh.
My hips churned, rolling into the velvet softness of his tongue. “Yes. Just like that. Please,” I panted. “Please, don’t stop.”
He paused to look up at me. “So that was better?”
I clenched my fists. Dammit. Why did he stop? It took everything in me to keep it together. “You were getting there.” Holy hell, was he getting there.
“Why are you squirming like that?” Aiden asked, backing away.
Rolling over to my side, with my thighs squeezed together, I said, “Oh, I think you have some idea.”
“It couldn’t be because of all of this, can it?” he asked, removing his clothing and motioning a hand over his nakedness.
“Possibly. Or maybe it’s because a specific part of your body is vying for my attention.”
“This old thing?” he asked. His hand was on his length, stroking back and forth.
“Could be. Anything’s possible,” I tossed out trying to sound nonchalant. I was so needy for him. To feel his body on mine. To feel him inside me. It was so hard to not think of sex when I looked at him. But when he was naked, and his skin shining with the musk of perspiration … it was impossible to concentrate on anything but sex, especially with our little game. “Why are you still so far away?”
“I want to watch you,” he said.
“You can watch me later. For now, I think I need that big dick between my legs.”
“I’ll give it to you, but I want you to come on your own first.”
“And what will you be doing?” I asked.
“I’m going to come, too. All over you,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice stirring my insides. “And then I’m going to fuck you.”
“Oh shit.”
“How does that sound?” he asked.
“It sounds so fuck
ing hot,” I said, my hand trailing down my abdomen.
“Go ahead. Do it. Let me see your fingers fuck that pussy,” he said.
I bit my lip, suppressing the sounds that were desperate to escape. And then like two hungry animals—contemplating their next move—we watched each other. My fingers were moving in and out of my pussy as he stroked the length of his cock. My thoughts were overwhelmed with him. The taste of him, the feel of his controlling yet tender touch.
“Watch me,” he said. His long fingers curved around his cock. “Watch me come for you.”
His words centered in my core, and rolled through me in deep waves.
He stepped closer as I pumped my fingers faster inside me. His hand was still on his cock, stroking up and down, moving rapidly back and forth.
“Ooh, baby. That looks so good,” I whined.
“Does it?”
“Yes, good enough to eat,” I said.
“Shit, you’re going to make me come if you keep talking like that.”
“I want you to come. I want that hot, thick cream all over me,” I said.
“Fuck, Aria,” he growled, as his cock jerked. He stepped closer, and he was coming in long spurts, his seed falling in dollops over my chest, abdomen and thighs.
My eyes were on him, watching as he sprayed his seed over me. “Are you marking your territory?” I asked.
“Since you’re flirting with strange men in gyms, I think I need to,” he said. “Rub it in.”
“Yes, baby,” I replied. I started with my breasts, moaning and teasing as I massaged his seed over my skin.
“Now,” he said. “There was a little matter of fucking you.”
*****
“You may have to work from home today,” Aiden said.
“Why?”
“It appears you’re having the slightest of difficulty moving.”
“Yeah, well if I do, it’s because I have a husband who has tunnel vision when it comes to fucking me.”
He laughed.
“Oh, so it’s funny?” I asked.