Page 106 of Done with You

She bit her lip and reached for the button of his dark-wash jeans, unfastening it and then fumbling like a fool for the zipper.

His raspy chuckle made her nipples pearl as he slid off the bed and finished undressing.

She did the same with embarrassing speed, then reached for him as he climbed back on top of her, wedging his fingers between them to find her clit. He ran rough circles around it that had her hips bucking up, then his mouth dropped to her clavicle and he raked his teeth across it.

Her entire body quivered.

He slid one finger, then another into her channel and began to pump. She rocked her hips, taking his digits deeper and allowing his thumb to slid across her clit. His thumbnail scraped the clit hood and she gasped and bowed her back, tipping her head into the pillow, and her chin toward the ceiling.

He dragged his teeth across her jaw bone and to the corner of her mouth where he pulled at her bottom lip, and bit. She moaned from the snap of pain, then sighed when he slid his tongue across the bite to soothe it like a balm.

All the while, his fingers between her legs never stopped.

Her hips continued to swivel and lift, as her brain got closer and closer to short-circuiting. Her nipples were rock hard and achy, desperate for his mouth. For him to suck them, and roll them around on his tongue. She was becoming a wanton, sex-crazed, brainless animal when it came to Aiden. All she could think about when she saw him—besides how much he drove her crazy—was how badly she wanted him.

And he knew it.

He knew how she wanted him.

And that just frustrated her more.

He had the upper hand.

She’d shown him her cards that day in her office and each and every time they fell into bed together, she continued to give him more power.

And yet, when the sex was this good, she didn’t particularly care.

She never had to see him again after they returned to Montreal.

They’d lived in the same city for years without ever crossing paths, they could do it again. But for now, she would bed the enemy to make him more tolerable. She would bed the enemy as a treat to herself. She would bed the enemy, but not try to fix him. Or change him. Or help him with his trauma and demons. She would simply ride him, get her orgasms and then go home.

If she stuck to her guns that way, and didn’t feed into his self-harm, but rather, gave into her self-care, they could get through the rest of this wedding without hurting each other any more.

An orgasm threatened in her lower belly. Hammered on the door to be set free. But for some reason, she didn’t want to come without him. She wanted them to come together.

She broke their kiss. “Condom,” she breathed, still bucking up into his palm and grinding against his fingers.

He nodded and leaned over to open her nightstand drawer, which was where she’d moved the condoms from her purse after the first time they had sex. “Fuck.”

Dread flashed through her. “What?”

“I uh … I think we might have used the last one the other day.”

“Impossible. I had five the night we met at the hotel.”

“And we used two that night, but then one also had a hole in it that night. Which accounts for three.”

Oh right.

“Then we used another one when I fucked you over the side of the couch, and another one when you invited me to your bed the other night. That makes five.”

“Sonofabitch.” Panic was quickly killing her impending climax. She looked up at him. “You don’t have any?”

He shook his head. “I can go check in the bathroom.”

“No. Rayma has an IUD. They don’t use condoms.” Then a lightbulb came on in her head. “I have an IUD. Are you clean?”

His head slowly bobbed. “You’re the only person I’ve slept with in several months and I got checked after the woman before you.”

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