Page 10 of Lonely Beard
This might be all I get. The thought slithers through my brain, emptying a bucket of cold water down my spine, but I keep going. Won’t waste a second.
“Tell me what you like.” My breath mists hot against her folds and I wedge both hands beneath her ass; I squeeze her cheeks as I lap at her clit. And I really do want to hear it, but Grace is too far gone to answer, moaning loudly, lost to the world.
Fine. Good. I’ll take her where she needs to go—if it’s the last goddamn thing I do, I’ll get her there. I’ll feel Grace come against my tongue, and I’ll feel her body shudder under mine, and that will have to be enough. Once she’s gone back to her normal life, that will be the memory.
“Aiden,” Grace whimpers, tugging on my hair, and I slide one hand free, then work a finger inside her channel. Add a second, rubbing at her inner walls. I’m licking and rubbing and breathing hard, my neck aching like hell, and I’m too fucking hot this close to the fire, but I still don’t want it to end.
It does, of course. The tension inside Grace winds tighter and tighter, her little noises getting more and more desperate. Then there’s a moment, a space of a few heartbeats, where she’s hovering. Dangling over the precipice, her whole body tensed.
“Come for me,” I growl against her slickness, sucking on her clit. And Grace bows off the rug, her howl louder than the wolves as she twitches and shudders and sighs.
I lick her through it all. Commit every last gasp to memory.
And when she slumps against the cabin floor, grief slams into my chest.
It’s over too fast. I’m not ready to be done with her yet—though maybe if I give her a minute to recover then start kissing her again, I can drag this out longer. Can steal another hour with our bodies entwined.
But when I rock back on my heels, wiping my mouth on my wrist, Grace winks at me from the rug. “We definitely need to add that to your Soulmate profile.”
My heart crashes below the floorboards. Is that really all?
“Yeah,” I agree, my voice hollow. “We should.”
Five
Grace
Ihave no previous experience of The Aftermath, obviously, but so far it sucks. All the warm, happy feelings of an hour ago are long gone, and as I sit up by the fire, I shiver despite the wall of scorching heat by my side.
“Aiden.”
He’s pushing to his feet, expression stony, cheeks still flushed from his time spent buried between my thighs.
Oh, god. I’m still so slick and tingly down there. It felt amazing a few minutes ago, but now that the mood is gone, it’s just uncomfortable. I pluck my panties off the rug nearby, heart tapping sickly against my ribs as I pull them back on.
This is the worst.
Did I do something wrong? Is my body secretly really weird down there?
Or is it that stupid joke I made about his Soulmate profile? No, it can’t have been that. Because heagreedwith me, like I wasn’t joking at all, and oh god, is he really going to sign back up after this? Will I have to match Aiden McRae with other women?
Nuh-uh. No way. I have a freaking heart, damn it, and it’s crumbling to ash at the mere thought. Someone else at Soulmate Express can take over his file.
“Is everything okay?” I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin on my knees. Still can’t seem to get warm.
Aiden’s stomping around the cabin, too busy to acknowledge my question. He clears up the leftovers from dinner and pauses by the log burner to stoke the fire; he pulls back a curtain to check on the storm.
Now that he’s kept his distance for a few minutes, you’d never know anything happened between us at all. The blush has faded from his cheeks, and he’s refastened his shirt buttons. Grace who?
“Aiden?” I sound miserable, even to my own ears.
Still peering through the dark glass out at the trees, he sighs, those broad shoulders dropping.
“Storm’s still going.” Would he want me to leave otherwise? Ouch. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the rug.”
Ouch, ouch, ouch. I bite my lip to keep my face from crumpling.
“You, um.” I clear my throat. “You shouldn’t have to give up your bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
