Page 57 of Aiden

I bring the mug to my lips, hiding my red cheeks. I sip the warm tea, sighing as it soothes my throat. I study Aiden with appreciative eyes, even in the early morning, with his bed head and bunched up shirt, he looks like a beautiful disaster.

I pull my lower lip between my teeth as images from last night flash in my mind and a dull ache grows between my legs. A low growl emanates from his chest as he backs me against the counter, capturing me in a kiss filled with such possessiveness that I shudder under his wandering hands. “Careful.” I tell him, reminding him of his wounds that he keeps forgetting about.

Aiden sets my coffee cup on the counter before grabbing my thighs and lifting me onto the counter. I yelp as he impatiently spreads my legs apart. I run my hands through his messy hair as he plants wet kisses along my jawline. It is unlike his normal behavior. There’s no rhythmic motion to his actions, no hands sliding lustfully along my body. It’s as though he lost control.

His eyes are wild as his rough hands grip and squeeze every inch of me possessively. He grabs the back of my neck and angles my head back, providing himself with a clear view of my neck.

I moan as he sucks on the sensitive nape of my neck. I pull away to catch my breath. “You can’t give me a hickey now!” I swat playfully at him.

He groans, his wild emerald eyes raking up and down my body. “Why the fuck not?”

When I move to close my legs, he places two firm hands on them, stopping them from moving. “Do not close your legs, Em. Open.” He kisses my lips softly. “Open for me, Em. You always keep them open, sweet girl.” He grips my thighs. “For me.”

I bite my lip, as the ache grows, and desire floods my body.

He glances down at my hardened nipples and growls. “That’s it.”

Yanking my panties and shorts off, he nudges my legs open and takes me on the counter. He holds me tight, leaving his marks on me. I struggle to pull away, not wanting him to leave marks where Mom can see. Yet he keeps trying.

Growing impatient, Aiden wraps my hair around his hand and tugs my head to the side roughly and firmly. He bites and sucks possessively on the tender skin of my neck, his harsh stubble scratching me in the most pleasant way. His grunts and moans stoke a burning sensation in my stomach.

I want to argue with him, to pull away or push him away. But the way his fingers gently slide over my panties, stroking my clit, turns me into a speechless mess. Besides, my throat hurts too much to protest.

I glance in the mirror after he’s satisfied, grazing my fingers along the sore skin. My neck is dotted with markings.

He wraps his arms around my waist and growls into my ear, his voice earthy and husky. “You’ll be sorry if you put any makeup on that tonight.”

What is that about?

Aiden

∞∞∞

If it isn’t for the text Emma received after falling asleep in my arms, I wouldn’t be going to this fucking dinner party. But he needs to see that she’s spoken for.

The number wasn’t saved but the second I read it; I knew who it was.

‘Can’t wait to see you tomorrow night.’

I laugh. He has no idea whose girl he’s texting. It’s innocent enough but the next text made my blood boil.

‘Maybe you can stay over after dinner? I want to see you bite that lip again ;)’

I almost woke her up to interrogate her but she’s tired and I trust her. I still remember her whimpers and small screams last night as she slept, probably from a nightmare. I played with her hair as she calmed down.

I wait for Emma to come downstairs so we can head over to this idiot’s house. So help me, God, if she walks down in anything other than a very conservative dress, I’m telling her to change. Thankfully, she doesn’t, and she looks adorable.

As much as I want him to see her perfect skin ravished and purple with my marks, it wouldn’t be appropriate. I get it but, fuck, I need everyone to quit trying me. Besides, showing my marks means she’ll have to wear something with a low neckline and I’m not having that.

“Ready?” Emma asks. I shake my head discreetly. “We’ll be a few minutes, Mom.”

“I’ll meet you two there.” Pamela waves and walks out of the door.

I bring my thumb to her lips and wipe her pink lipstick off.

“Hey.” She exclaims but doesn’t argue, practically bouncing out of her shoes.

“Why are you so hyper?”

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