by Celia Crown
After his contract was finalized, he convinced me to finish my contract with Donna and Thomas. They were sad to see me go and tried to keep me in the company. It was something they said that made me question if I should retire because I love working with them and I get to do what I love while being paid for it.
I’m not technically retired, but my last job was such a success that it’s hard for people to let me go into retirement. With three amazing photoshoots that captured the world’s attention through unconventional models, sales have gone through the roof.
King Size is my most successful project, and I am too biased to not say that I worked harder on Aiden than any other models.
Though, they all got the same amount of attention that I usually give to models. Aiden is just a little more special to me, but they didn’t need to know that.
My retirement is only on paper that says I’m no longer working with any agencies, but I have gone back to freelance and Aiden is the only model that I photograph.
It was the harsh familiarity of his serpent tongue that mapped out the ownership against my shoulders. I should have known Aiden would imprint smooth commands into my head, and I am not that bright to see through his velvety love.
He was as cruel as others have painted him as his fundamental demand was that I was to never photograph any man, nor was I allowed to think about it.
We have a compromise; if I were to work, I was to use him as my model and use Donna and Thomas’s company as a publishing avenue. I don’t mind the negotiation; business was never my forte and Aiden takes care of that side while I stay with my camera.
It’s less complicated for me. I’m barely an adult trying to navigate through the delineated cutthroat world of beauty and betrayal. With frequent passive-aggressiveness and survival of desolation, I would never last in a world that Aiden conquered.
That’s fine. I’m not a fan of competition.
Neither is Aiden.
His mere presence is a gleaming flame for unwarranted women. His eyes burn brightly behind deceiving blasé at the lingering fragrance of suffocating perfume. Aiden hates the spill of red in his eyes and the sharp curve of white slash in his sneer. He hates it when I see the deep-seated fear of his monster; it’s a symbol of the freedom that I have.
The freedom to leave him when the devil holds me through the edge of possessiveness. The freedom to leave when his perception of my love for him is threatened, the freedom to walk away when he lets the monster come forth and wreak havoc amongst the unfortunates.
“Feel free to admire me,” the voice is all too close to my ear, but it sounds far.
I blink rapidly and clean away the confusion; the smile on my lips plays with the bashfulness humming in my blood.
“Are you going to charge me?” I thumb the camera; the rough surface keeps the lightheadedness away.
“I’m expensive,” he chuckles and pushes himself up from the edge of the pool.
“Oh,” I pout with big doe-eyes, “What should I do? I don’t have money.”
Water droplets kiss his damp skin and the absurdly colossal size of his body; the broad shoulders expand across the horizon on the other side of the pool. Tight abs hardening, chiseled narrowing of his waist and ink etched into his skin coming to life with ripples of his arms.
My eyes stray over his frame and reveal in the glow of his sexiness that perishes the tranquil afternoon; the sun beams down on the massive pool and illuminates the curly white lines that cut through the azure.
Water splats on my bent legs as he sits on the edge of the lounging chair. I breathe in his scent and the pungent chlorine smell as he slips one cold hand around my ankle.
His workout is insanely long. I often wonder where he gets his stamina from, and now I know. Morning runs, afternoon swims, and evening weight lifting keeps him busy as he needs to maintain his body to its finest.
I get tired just by watching do all those things, but I always miss his morning runs. They are morning for a reason, and it is always too early for me to wake up. He would come home with sweat running down his body.
He does not kiss me until he showers; he said something about smelling awful and feeling disgusting. Aiden makes it up after his steamy shower with kisses that renders me boneless and a mess for a heart.
“I accept other forms of payments,” he purrs, his intentions glaringly obvious as he moves his hand up to my knee.
Brushing mindless patterns to claim my control as his own, Aiden takes my lips into submission. It’s hot, and it’s bruising, but it’s gentle in ways that split my lips for his devious tongue to seize.
Wetness pitter-patter on my thighs from his hair and onto the camera, neither of those bothers me as his lips curve into a dangerous slant that signals my defeat in being a brave girl.
“You’re a bad man,” I murmur with a smile, “Taking advantage of me…”
He hums, cupping my chin with a strong grip. “I’m only as bad as you make me out to be.”
I cock my head, “What do you mean?”
He’s winding his fingers through my hair, and I see the underside of the wide umbrella, his teeth sinking into my tender skin with conviction and manipulation of power over me. The ache to my scalp is only momentary, the purr of his throat skips over the taunting chuckles that rumbles from his chest.
“You are such a pretty little thing, always eager to please me and be the little good you that you are. I can see how men look at you. They want that for themselves, and you’re too naïve to see it. It makes my blood run with rage when you are nice to them. They get ideas, and they think they have a chance with you.”
He slides his tongue between the seam of my lips, “You make me the monster that I am, Violet.”
Aiden’s finger skims over my neck, and my pulse jumps as he runs a finger over the pulse. He closes his hand around my throat with the pressure of his message etched sinisterly in his power.
“How do you plan on taking responsibility?”
The light in his eyes fade to obsidian pools and molding with the sin beneath his façade, the implication of his desire is like a snake slithering over my spine as a dull throb of last night’s reminder flares between my thighs.
“It’s not a trick question,” he says with a snap of a hand around my neck.
I shudder, his shadow crawling over the shade of the umbrella and I know better than to let my mind deviate at a time like this.
“Stay,” I whisper meekly, “I can stay.”
“You will stay, little girl,” Aiden chuckles darkly, and the hoarseness in his voice strikes a chord in me, “You need me, Violet.”
He doesn’t elaborate anymore, but I understand the weight of his words as they sink into my heart. Aiden has never been wrong, and there is no reason for him to start now. It wouldn’t make sense for him to be purposely chaining me to him.
Aiden wants the best for me and the only way for me to get that is to be with him; I have no intention of letting go of his big hands nor am I going to betray the heart that he graciously gave me while he took mine without remorse.
I would have given anything to him.
I used to think that I am a strong, sensible, and able-bodied adult. I think I still am for many reasons, but none of them matters anymore after being separated from him for so many months.
The misunderstanding and miscommunication trashed my independence; it was only when he was gone did I truly realize how much I love him and that I am too dependent on him. The air was a luxury, and dreams with him were a symptom of my insanity. It was rare for me to sleep peacefully in his phantom arms.
His fingers are like ice when he presses them down on my naked belly, the bikini strings of my top loosely tickle my skin as I lean to kiss him.
Hot flush licks my body as he dips his hand between my bikini bottom, deft fingers pressing against my clit and the roughness of his fingertip nearly chokes me. Heat rushes through my body with slick running out of my aching hole, shivers mar my skin with the force of a wi
ldfire and the bitterness of defeat at the top of my tongue.
I wanted to be a big girl and prove to him that I can stand on my own, but he clearly has other things in mind.
“A-Aiden,” I mewl pathetically soft, “Please…”
My chest heaves as his eyes linger on the creaminess that spills over the white fabric. He doesn’t play with them as he normally does and he goes straight for the tiny hole with two of his fingers.
“We’re in public,” I mutter mutedly.
This is our home surrounded by gates and security cameras, but there is a risk that a voyeur with a binocular and they’re just waiting for the chance to catch something like this.
“Then, we should be quiet,” he pinches my clit roughly, and strong teeth lick on my neck as if I am a prey to him.
In a way, I am one, and I want to be hunted down.
I swallow thickly, focusing over his shoulder to the rocking pool waters and the cool droplets of his dark hair.
I wish there was a way to obey him, but I can’t contain the thrill of being caught as I cry out his name. He digs his fingers deeper inside, curling up and widening his digits to tug on my tender walls.
Slick dripping out and viscously trickling down the patterns of the lounging chair. A well-aimed thrust and a scrape of my clit with his thumb jolt my tense muscles, and I remember why I’m somewhat reluctant to have him touch me so intimately.
“I’m sore,” I mumble as he rolls my sodden nub.
“I can massage it for you,” he suggests, and I can’t help but notice the dark glint in his eyes.
“Are you going to dislocate my joints?” I flash my dimples at him, but it falters when he fucks his fingers firmly between my walls.
“Do you want me to?”
“No,” I promptly answer, tears trekking down my cheek with a sharp breath.
His face turns impassive, “Then no.”
“But you can.”
He affirms my point by forcing an orgasm from me and rubbing the calloused edge of his thumb against the sensitive nub. Aiden tips his finger down, and a surge of ache burst through my skin as he deprives my clit of mercy.
“I can, but I won’t,” he says, and I tremble weakly on the chair.
My tiny cunt ripples and coil around his thick fingers, soaking his skin with my juices as he traps the nub with one last drag that takes his fingers from my burning hole.
He laughs, and humiliation boils under my cheeks, the close scrutiny of his gaze tears a new hypnotic haze through me as he inspects the sticky mess on his fingers. He rubs them with a mean smirk and relishing in my mortification as he spreads them, webs of the clear slick breaking between the distance as it drenches his fingers.
“Dirty girl,” he hisses with a hand grasped around the dip of my waist.
My cheeks burn as my eyes gloss over; the race in my heart matches the blood reverberating over my ears.
Aiden lifts his wet fingers and dark eyes honing on the parting of my lips. I have been trained, and my body moves on autopilot; it’s a familiar pattern that pulls a low purr from deep within his chest. The spark of accomplishment in his eyes eases my nerves and simultaneously igniting a sharp slap of wanton desire.
I open my mouth to suck on the juices from his finger, and shame draws on my skin with the smearing of my bikini bottom. I can taste the filthiness from my wetness and the tenseness where he presses down on my tongue.
It isn’t fair that he can look unaffected; not a second passes where he doesn’t look impeccable, and it’s driving me crazy with the need to run my hands into his hair.
He is insatiable, no amount of protesting and uncertain gazes can fight off this monstrosity. I give in to him; I have to because it’s the only thing my body knows how to please him. Being a good girl to him is my priority, and he has no problem with me worshipping his body while he takes care of me.
“Please, I’m sore,” I protest with a string of saliva breaking from his fingers as he takes them away.
The bulge pushing on his tight swim-trunks looks painful, but my pussy is aching; although I’m not quite sure if it’s from last night or my addiction needs a fix by having his thick cock pounding and tearing apart my tiny hole.
He loves it when I experience a little bit of pain, it’s part of his love that I treasure, and I want to take it with everything I have got.
Aiden takes special care when he picks me up; one arm around my back and one under my knees for the special position that shows that I am his princess.
“You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart,” his steps are smooth and swift when he enters the giant house.
“Let me draw up a bubble bath for you,” Aiden offers and heat pools at the bottom of my belly.
Bathing and relaxing are not going to be the endgame; we both know that I will end up getting fucked and sore before I could even grab a towel.
He is a master manipulator of my body, toying the frail line of pain and pleasure while keeping my mind under water. The need to please him is all too uncontrollable, and his eyes have the future promise that I will soon be the slave of his love and domination.
“Please be gentle,” I said, the ring on my finger reflects.
He tilts his head down and kisses my forehead; his lips linger on my skin and murmurs quietly.
“You take what I give you, sweetheart.”
Like a sinking ship, I drown with it.
“Yes, Aiden.”
Finale
Author’s other works!
Noir MC Series
KANE (Noir MC - Book 1)
VLAD (Noir MC - Book 2)
DEAN (Noir MC - Book 3)
Standalone
Pretty Girl
Marionette
Black Clover
Whisper My Name
Claiming Lily
Daddy King
Flawed Temptation
Wicked Temptation
Daddy’s Little Bait
The Debt Collector
His Sapphire Witch
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