Page 130 of Instigator

“I just…” He swallows. “I’ve spent so much time wanting this. Wanting you. Sometimes it still feels unreal.”

Something in my chest squeezes.

The teasing response dies before it reaches my tongue. Instead, I rest my forehead against his and let myself sit in the truth of it—the years between us, the near misses, the things neither of us said when we should have.

And now we’re here.

Finally here.

Aidan wraps me in his arms, then rolls me onto my back, settling in the space between my legs. He buries his face in my neck, his stubble scraping over my sensitive skin as he nuzzles the column of my throat. My entire body warms under his attention, and I card my fingers through his hair, my other hand tracing down the vertebrae in his spine, memorizing the muscles in his back.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he kisses the hollow of my throat, then down to my collarbone, and down, down, down, right where I want him. He pays attention to each breast, teasing my nipples until the taut buds ache for him.

For the first time, I don’t flinch when he kisses down my belly, over my scars. Instead, I let myself fall back into the pleasure, let it rise to greet me like a warm hug.

And when his tongue meets my clit, my eyes roll back, and it takes everything in me not to thrust my hips up into his mouth.

Aidan bars my hips with his forearm, and damn, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, staring up at me from between my legs, his blue eyes dark with desire. “I’ve got you.”

For now and forever.

forty-eight

. . .

Aidan

She smells incredible, tastes even better, and the sounds she makes? Perfect. Eleven out of ten, no notes.

I’m obsessed with this woman. Obsessed with making her come. Obsessed with taking care of her. Obsessed with her—period.

My cock aches for relief, but I refuse to allow myself to touch it until she’s on the brink of release. And even when she tumbles over the cliff of pleasure, I still refrain.

Edging? I never knew I’d like it as much as I do.

Ceci’s fingers rake through my hair as she floats down from her high. I rest my cheek on her thigh, gazing up at her. Her face is flushed, her neck reddened from my beard. Oops.

“Come up here,” she murmurs, sounding half drunk.

With zero chill, I scramble up the bed to rest my head on the pillow beside hers, my hand finding her hip. I draw absentminded circles on her skin as her palm finds my chest, settling over my heartbeat.

Can she hear the way it pounds for her? Can she hear the way it beats solely for her?

“I want to try something,” she says, and I nod. I’ll let her try whatever the fuck she wants. My body is hers; my soul is hers.

She picks up the small box, working it open and revealing a small silicone ring with a square box on it. I take it from her, running my fingers around the material. The square is a bullet vibe, and when I click the button on the side, it hums to life. The motor is surprisingly powerful.

“Oh.” Even pressed against my finger, it sends shockwaves through me.

“It’ll be good for both of us,” Ceci explains. “The vibe will be against my clit, and it will echo through you. And the ring should help you a bit, but it will still allow you to come.”

If I can come.

I want to. I want to make this good for her.

So I reach for the condom, tearing it open and rolling it down my cock. I’ve been so focused on her, my erection hasn’t waned, but dread floods my veins as soon as the latex touches my skin. This is entirely psychological, and even though I know that, it doesn’t help keep the shame at bay.