Pleasures of the Night(14)
Author: Sylvia Day

Aidan laughed, the severity of his expression softening with obvious affection. ""You’re a handful, Hot Stuff."

"So are you." She shot a pointed glance at her overflowing hands. "More than a handful."

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, the tender gesture so at odds with the sinful way he stoked her desire. As he moved around her, running his hands all over her, her eyes slid closed on a sigh. Her blood was hot and sluggish, her mind lost in the sensual spell he wove so well. Low and deep within her, she ached, clenching in emptiness and expectation of what she knew was coming.

If this was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up. Never in her life had she known wanting like this, a need so intense she was panting with it, her knees weakening until he was forced to hold her upright with easy strength.

"Was it spring break in Cabo?" she asked breathlessly.

"Huh?" He pulled back to look down at her, revealing half-lidded eyes that couldn’t hide the burning lust within.

"When we met. Cabo San Lucas. That’s the last time I remember that I can’t remember."

"Ah … I get it. No." Catching her shoulders, he spun her away from him, and a moment later, his strong fingers were rubbing shampoo into her scalp.

She turned into a boneless puddle. He knew just how to touch her, kneading the tense muscles of her shoulders and stroking the length of her spine until all the anxiety of her nightmare washed down the drain. She felt the calluses on his palms and the strength he wielded with such care. When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her backward into the spray with him, she leaned against him with a trust she shouldn’t feel, but did.

"But we’ve had sex," she persisted, shivering at the thought of what it must have been like. He was in no rush, taking his time, as if he had an eternity, as if time didn’t exist for him. If he took the same care when making love

He licked the wet shell of her ear. "Something like that."

Turning in his arms, Lyssa leaned her head back and met blue eyes fringed with thick, wet lashes. "Something like sex?"

"Yep. Wash me." He thrust the bottle into her hands. "I want to feel your hands on me."

She shook her head as she reached for the soap. She almost told him no, just to curb his arrogance, but she wanted to touch him. So much that her palms itched with the need.

With soap-slicked fingertips, she slid her palms across his chest, marveling at the feel of his skin stretched taut over muscles that were hard as stone. His eyes closed on a low groan, his hands cupping her hips, his head falling back in a gesture of supplication that took her by surprise. Aidan was wallowing in her caresses, absorbing them, relishing every time she lingered in an especially susceptible spot.

It was riveting, the sight of so large and dangerous a man turned to putty in her hands. And he was dangerous, she knew. There was something in his eyes. They were ancient, wizened, jaded beyond his years. And something in the way he watched her, the way he moved, the note of command in every casual phrase. This man was never without his guard. Yet here he was. Bared to her in more than his appearance.

So she indulged, taking her time, washing his front from his head to his toes, then turning him and paying the same attention to his rear, which was just as magnificent.

When he faced her again, Lyssa positioned him beneath the spray and shifted her fingers through his hair, making sure every bit of shampoo was gone. She was so much shorter than he was, she had to lift onto her tippytoes to reach him. The loss of balance forced her to lean against him, her br**sts to his chest. The hard, heavy length of his erect c*ck pressed into her stomach, but he made no move to take things further.

"I think I’m clean." He stilled her roving hands with his own before pushing her gently away.

Lyssa bit her lower lip in embarrassment. Nodding her agreement, she pushed open the floating glass door and reached for the towel closest to her. She didn’t bother to dry herself. Instead she wrapped the towel beneath her arms and moved to the linen closet, taking out a fresh towel, which she thrust backward without turning her head.

She heard the knobs turn and the water stop.

"Now you don’t want to look at me?" he asked softly, his fingers curling around hers, sending sharp awareness up her arm.

She tugged free and moved toward the door, restless and edgy with confusion and unsatisfied arousal. She didn’t know what to make of the fact that he had touched her so intimately, then pulled back. The hardness of his c*ck betrayed him, as did the dark hunger in his gaze, but he’d put on the brakes.

So why was he here at her house, driving her crazy, if he didn’t want to get laid?

"I’ll give you some privacy," she muttered.

Her hand was reaching for the knob when Aidan caught her in a full-body embrace—his arms pinning hers, his bare chest behind her, his erection an unmistakable pressure against her lower back.

"Talk to me." His lips were hot against her neck.

She shuddered with the force of her craving, her heart leaping into a mad rhythm.

"What’s the matter, Lyssa?" One arm crossed upward between her br**sts, his biceps bulging beneath her gripping palms, his fingers angling her jaw toward his waiting mouth. He kissed her at the same moment he rolled his h*ps with practiced grace, inundating her from all sides with the feel of him.

"I was trying to save my sanity," he whispered into her mouth, "not discourage you."

Moaning, she spent the space of one breath resisting him, and then she gave in, her tongue meeting his, then chasing his, as he advanced and retreated with deep licks.

"More," she demanded, her nails in his flesh.

His hand at her throat shook. "Not in here. Take me to your bed."

"I’m not sure I can make it." She writhed against him, stroking that thick, hard c*ck with the upper curve of her buttocks.

"It’s on the other side of the door."

"Too far."

He bent his knees, notching himself between the cheeks of her ass, and began to rub against her. His free hand touched her thigh, then slid up beneath her towel. A hungry sound vibrated against her back when he cupped her wet p**sy.

"You’re so slick and hot," he purred. "I could slide into your cunt from behind. Ride you hard, right here, just the way you like it. Just the way I like it." His fingers mimicked the actions he described, slipping into her, pumping knuckle-deep and fast.

"Yes…" Her head lolled against his shoulder, her lips parted, wanting more of him. She licked at him desperately, her tongue flickering, trying to taste him. "Do it."

"I could bend you over the counter, facing our reflections. You could watch me take you." The growl that rumbled up from his chest was pure sexual hunger. His coarse words made her n**ples hard, made her p**sy quiver around his fingers, made her cry out softly

"Aidan."

"But I won’t, Lyssa. Not this time. This time I want you nak*d and spread out on a bed for my pleasure."

As his skin heated with his desire, the scent of him, spicy and rich, filled her nostrils. It was achingly familiar, male-ing her womb clench tight in recognition. His hand slid from her neck and cupped her breast, squeezing it, making it swell. Her knees gave out, but he held her tightly. All the while he f**ked her mouth with those delicious thrusts of his tongue, and urged his h*ps against her in a wicked imitation of what she really wanted.

"I’m going to make you come in a thousand different ways," he promised. "Around my fingers, against my lips, around my cock. I’m going to wear you out, exhaust you. You’ll sleep like the dead… When I let you sleep."

She whimpered. She had never in her life been this hot for sex.

"I can’t wait." His words were a dark threat that excited her. "And I won’t. Take me to your bed so we can get started. I want you comfortable so we can take our time."

"I—I can’t walk."

Aidan’s fingers left her, then he bent and lifted her. "Open the door."

She stretched her arm out behind her, reaching blindly for the knob, her mouth pressing feverish kisses to his throat.

"It might go faster if you looked," he said with warm amusement.

"Then I’d have to stop nibbling on you."

"But there are so many other parts of me to nibble on."

Lyssa turned her head just long enough to open the door. Aidan stepped back as it swung inward, the sound of his laughter spilling out into the bedroom along with puffs of steam. He closed the distance between the bathroom and the bed in just a few long-legged strides. When he set her down, she scrambled to her knees and threw herself into him. He didn’t budge an inch with the impact.

"Hot Stuff," he said, his smiling lips moving against her temple. "You’re always hard-charging." With one steely arm supporting her back, he reached between her legs again. "Time to take you down a notch."

She moaned, her eyes clenched shut against the heat that spread all over her body, first in a wave of goose bumps and then in a mist of sweat. The nearly overwhelming sensation she had of deep, intimate familiarity combined with the here and now of a gorgeous man making love to her was too much. When Aidan slid a long, callused finger inside her, she panted for air and dug her nails into his forearms.

He muttered something in a foreign language and then withdrew, hushing her protest with his mouth. His fingertip, slick with her cream, circled her clit, then rubbed it with perfectly gauged pressure. Primed for orgasm by the things he’d done to her in the shower, Lyssa came with a cry, and Aidan held her reverently, stroking her with such tenderness, drawing out her cli**x until she settled limply into his embrace.

As Aidan laid her gently across her bed, Lyssa found she couldn’t think, could barely catch her breath. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her heart thumped desperately in her chest. She could only watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he positioned her with her h*ps at the edge of the bed and then dropped to his knees.

"Please," she breathed, her hunger flaring to renewed life. His large hands cupped her inner thighs and spread them wide. The color of his skin, so dark compared to her own, sent a shiver through her. The heat of his breath, gusting through her wet curls, made her muscles tense.

"Christ." A rough, edgy sound escaped him as his thumbs held her lips open so nothing was hidden. "You’re melting."

Lyssa’s back arched upward as he licked her in a slow, deliberate glide, then pulled back to look at her again.

He pointed his tongue and flicked it rapidly over the tiny slitted entrance to her body, licking up the liquid result of her recent orgasm. Then he tilted his head and thrust his tongue inside her.

She moaned, and her hands fisted in her pale blue comforter. Aidan draped her legs over his shoulders, so he could get closer. Wet, smacking sounds rose up as he ate at her as if she were a dessert he couldn’t get enough of, his tongue f**king in and out of her p**sy with rapid, shallow strokes.

Aching, sweating, Lyssa cupped her br**sts and pinched at her n**ples, pulling them, trying to relieve their desperate hardness.

Growling his pleasure, Aidan reached up and brushed her hands away, his much larger ones surrounding her br**sts and squeezing them with expertly gauged pressure. All the while he licked at her, sucked her, teased her.

"Yes," she whispered, rocking her h*ps upward to match the lashing rhythm of his tongue. She reached down, her fingers sliding into his hair, massaging his scalp. "Make me come."

Circling her cl*t with his firm lips, he tugged on it with soft suction, the tip of his tongue rubbing against the tiny bundle of nerves.

Lyssa cli**xed with a breathless cry, arching upward as he continued the delicious torment until she begged him to stop, her flesh swollen and oversensitive.

Aidan smiled wickedly as he pulled away, licking his lips. "Now you’re relaxed enough to fit me," he purred.

She couldn’t move a single muscle when he shrugged out from under her and rose to stand between her spread legs. The sight of him taking his long, thick c*ck in hand and tilting it down to breach her p**sy was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. He was so deliberate in his movements, so focused, his gaze riveted to where the warm, silky smooth head of his c*ck was pressing into her.

The sound that came out of her throat was the embodiment of lust and longing. That beautiful c*ck was pushing into her, caressing slick, pulsing tissues, forcing them to part for him.

She writhed, struggling to take all that he had. "Protection?" she gasped.

"Trust me," he urged. "It’s okay."

Lyssa almost argued, but then found she couldn’t. Despite everything she didn’t know about Aidan, she believed he would never hurt her or put her in jeopardy It was a bone-deep certainty that was unshakable. She felt comforted by his presence and his touch, as if she’d been waiting for him, longing for him to return. Even though she hadn’t known that he was the missing part of her life.

"Promise me you’ll remember this." His voice was sandpaper-rough, his hands shaking where he held down her hips. "How it feels—you and me, connected—when we talk later about why I’m here."

She remembered it already. The feeling that they had been together this way before was so strong, it was beyond-mere deja vu,

God, he was big.

She whimpered.

He rolled his h*ps and slid deeper, filling her in a way she knew only he ever had, or ever could.

Aidan felt wonderful inside her, truly divine, and when he leaned over her, Lyssa hugged him closer and tried to take more of him.

"Don’t rush." He nipped her earlobe, the brief spot of pain causing her to jerk in surprise. "I’ll be inside you more times than I’m not. Waking, sleeping. I don’t want you sore."

"I need you." Her nails dug into his shoulders as he stroked deeper, massaging the broad head of his c*ck across the spot inside her that ached for him. She reached for his lean h*ps and tugged at the same time she lifted, forcing him in to the root, his heavy balls slapping against the seam of her ass.

"Lyssa," he breathed roughly, shuddering. He stared at her with dark, fathomless eyes, his handsome features passion flushed and his chest heaving with labored breaths. "Christ. It’s… even better… when it’s real."