Page 11 of Reclaimed

Usually, I’m as dry as the desert.

Fuck. What do I do?

Do I get up and take his offer to not dance?

It’s too late for that. I started this and now I need to see it through. He can’t know I’m affected.

I frown.

There’s nothing special about Aiden Powell.

But then I shift my hips with the change in beat, and I brush against him. The ridge nudges against my clit and a whimper falls from my mouth. I bite back a whine of embarrassment and continue my dance while my body burns with the desire to feel it again.

“What was that,” Aiden growls from behind me, his raspy voice clawing against my defenses.

“N-Nothing,” I nearly pant, closing my eyes and praying this song ends soon, before I’m the one finishing prematurely in my pants.

This has to be the most tempting, arousing, humiliating situation of my life and I can’t decide if I need it to stop or if I wish it never ends. How does one guy feel so good, so perfect beneath my body? It has to be the pregnancy hormones. Ithasto be.

His palm splays hotly across my lower abdomen as he shifts, keeping us flush. His mouth touches my ear as his fingers glide south.

“Let me help.”

I close my eyes and drop my head back on his shoulder. My hair fans wildly around us, blonde curls a tangled mess. His touch dips lower. Lower. He skates the edge of my thong before cupping me solidly between my legs.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” I whisper-pant, pulling a strand of hair from the corner of my mouth.

Feeling him there snaps the remainder of my control. The sensation is too good to resist, and Aiden is Aiden. He’s safe. He’s warm. He’s fucking sexy and his fingers are moving, stroking my clit in time to my hips. Then he’s dipping lower, knuckles nudging my panties to the side and his middle finger slides home.

“Oh, fuck.” A moan breaks free before I slap my palm over my mouth. If anyone hears what I’m doing in here, I’ll be fired on the spot.

I clench my teeth and grind as he slips another finger inside.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, Isla. Ride my fingers, starshine,” he whispers in my ear.

I whimper and grind, chasing the pleasure he’s wringing from me.

“Be quiet, beautiful. I don’t want anyone but me to hear you come.”

A shiver wracks my body as I chase that pinnacle. He makes it easy, stroking his fingers in the perfect motion to hit that spot deep inside. He works in time to my hips, speeding up and slowing down as I do.

I’ve lost the music. I’ve lost the rhythm. I dance to the steady strum of his fingers and the beat of my racing heart.

His lips touch my neck, a light graze from ear to shoulder as he samples the sensitive skin there.

“I feel how close you are.” He circles my clit with his thumb. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me. Are you going to come for me, Isla?”

“Yes,” I mumble from behind my hand.

His free hand skates up my arm, tracing its way to settle atop mine over my mouth.

“Give it up. Come for me. I’ll catch your scream beneath our hands.”

My hips rock and grind, pushing him deeper, faster, until I hit that peak—and for a second everything stops. The breath catches in my lungs. My lower half ceases to move, all except Aiden’s fingers, plunging in and out of me until I grip him and splinter apart.

Our palms silence the shriek from my lips. His breath moves across my ear, carrying words I can’t hear. My world has gone deaf. A white noise blankets the room. The only color I see is red as I crumble, held together only by Aiden’s arms and his lap.

---