Page 118 of Ramshackle
Chapter thirty-three
Raegan
Everything is sore.
Everything except for the one place Aiden never touched.
Now that the rest of my body is thrumming with the delicious ache of being used so thoroughly, the lack of feeling at my core is blatant. My pussy throbs with need, demanding the attention it missed out on.
I roll onto my side and slide a hand between my thighs.
The sound of breathing snaps my eyes open.
Aiden’s face is inches from mine, his eyes closed. I scan the room quickly and confirm that we’re alone before returning my gaze to his sleeping face. I’ve never seen his expression so relaxed before. So…unguarded.
I reach a hand out to him, compelled to feel it for myself, but he snatches my wrist as soon as my fingertips graze his cheekbone. Gasping, I find his eyes wide open and pinned on me.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought you were asleep.” Was he just pretending?
“I was. I’m a light sleeper, and you moved.”
Seriously? I could probably jump on the bed, and it still wouldn’t wake Kellan up.
Aiden moves my hand away from his face like he’s giving it back to me but halts without warning. His nostrils flare, and it’s in that second I remember I’d started touching myself with that hand. I rip my hand back from him and hold it to my chest.
His eyes are dark as he regards me, and rather than wait for that commentary, I change the subject.
“What time is it?”
Aiden reaches under his pillow and pulls out his phone.
“Really? You sleep with it, too?”
A tiny smirk tugs at his lips. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous,” he remarks dryly.
“Nope. Just a concerned friend,” I counter.
“It’s after six.”
Oh. So, I guess I didn’t sleep as long as I thought. It feels like I got plenty of rest, though.
“In the evening,” he adds. “You’ve been asleep for almost twelve hours.”
Twelve hours?! Did Kellan and Dane not notice I was gone in the morning? Is Jackson back from following Thorne?
“I told them all you were here and to find something else to occupy their time with while you got some rest,” he answers like he could read the worry on my face. “Jackson still came in a couple of times to check in.”
Oh. “Did you sleep at all?”
He’s the one who needs sleep more than anyone else. And somehow, I ended up almost orgasmed to death, bathed, and rested.
“Some,” he replies simply, pushing himself upright. The sheets fall from his chest, revealing nothing down to the hem of his boxers.
I remember that I’m still naked.
He slept with me last night. He did all those things, but it hits me again that he didn’t fuck me. He could have. I begged him to, and he didn’t.
