Last night she stayed in her room. The one I’m not supposed to go in. I sat by the door and listened to her cry softly. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
My thumb taps on the desk as I stare at the box. She fixed it. She did it. Not me. She didn’t ask, and she doesn’t know what it does to me. Part of me wants to rip it out. The other part is hoping it means something. Something beyond what I’m capable of controlling.
Knock, knock. The gentle rap at the door disturbs my thoughts. It’s early. I’ve already met with Aden and Jase. We know where every enemy and ally is, and what they’re planning. There’s nothing to do but wait for Romano to lay Talvery to rest. He’ll lose men doing it, but my side has lost enough. And I informed him of exactly that. His options are limited.
Knock, knock. She knocks again and I have to clear my throat, feeling the roughness at the back as I straighten in my chair and call for her to come in.
The door opens slowly, revealing Aria to me with sleep still in her eyes. Her hair flows down her bare back in waves, and the only thing she’s wearing is a thin, black silk nightie with the white pearls draped down her breasts. My cock instantly hardens as she takes a single careful step in, quietly walking on the balls of her feet until she turns and shuts the door with her back to me.
“You look… breathtaking,” I say, the words falling from my lips.
Her head turns first, bringing with it the sway of her hips, the gentle swing of her hair around her shoulders and those beautiful eyes that toy with my emotions. Her lips tip up, pulling into a feminine smile as a blush rises up her chest and climbs all the way to her temple. With her head tilted down, she peeks up at me through her lashes, brushing a stray lock from her face and murmurs, “That seems fitting … since you leave me breathless.”
She takes deliberate but slow steps, so I know right where she’s headed as she rounds the desk. I don’t know why I turn off the monitors, shut my laptop and scoot the chair back, spreading my legs so she can easily climb into my lap. As she adjusts, her small hand slips to my groin and a muffled groan escapes my throat, rumbling my chest. Aria’s eyes light with a playfulness, but also so much more. Her eyes always give me more than I deserve.
“I miss you,” she whispers as her ass presses against my cock and she lies heavily against my chest. Her hair tickles my neck until she rests her cheek on my shoulder, and lazily presses a small kiss to my throat.
I have a small moment, a split second where I wonder if this is real or a dream. The tension is gone; the thoughts of what will come don’t exist in this moment. She simply wants me, and I her. As her nails gently run down my throat, playing among the overgrown stubble, she swallows thickly and I have to wonder if the same thought has hit her as I see pain grow in her expression in the reflection on the black monitor in front of me.
“I didn’t think you would come to me,” I tell her quietly, and pluck at one of the pearls of her necklace, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. She nuzzles against my shoulder and whispers in a sultry voice, “I thought you knew me better than that, Mr. Cross.” The rough chuckle I give her in return shakes my chest, and along with it, her. Her breasts press against my chest, and I feel her nipples harden from the slight movement.
“I love you,” she whispers and kisses my neck again, softer this time, leaving a touch of wetness behind. “There’s nothing that could stop me from loving you. I tried. I can’t stop,” she tells me softly, lifting her head to look me in the eyes.
Instead of answering her, I cup her pussy in my lap, pressing my fingers against the thin silk that separates my hand from her hot entrance. She’s damp immediately. Wet and hot for me.
As she reaches up to hold on to my shoulders instinctively, I maneuver my fingers around the fabric and press them inside of her. Her back arches and her breasts come closer to my face. I bend down just enough to gently nip the hardened peak of one nipple through the thin fabric, leaving a mark on her nightie.
She squeals in my embrace, jolting slightly, but she doesn’t let go of me, she only clings tighter, her nails pressing deeper into my skin through the dress shirt.
“I want you,” I breathe against her slender neck as I thrust my fingers in and out of her, moving some of the wetness up and down her cunt and then to her backside, around her tight hole. I need to make the other night right and fuck her there the way she needs.
“I love you,” she tells me again in a strangled moan as I unzip my pants and reposition her to straddle me.
Again I don’t say it back, and instead I crash my lips to hers, pressing them as deeply as I can as I shove my dick inside of her as swiftly as possible. With both of my hands on her shoulders, my forearms supporting her back, I slam her down, forcing her to scream into my kiss with an ecstasy I love to give her.
This I can give her. As much as she needs.
She’s so fucking tight. Feeling her squeeze my cock with every thrust is something I don’t deserve.
Her nails dig into my shoulders and she moans with each upward thrust. The soft sounds are short and come in muted gasps, urging me to push her higher and higher.
The air is hot but my skin is hotter as I feel her tighten around me. I’m close, but I don’t want to get off. I don’t want to take from her any more than I already have.
I can’t breathe as I pound into her with a primal need to force the pleasure to rip through her, but she doesn’t let go. She isn’t breathing either as her head lolls back, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.
She’s watching me as I watch her. With each slam of my hips I want to see her light up with unrelenting pleasure, but she shakes her head gently, barely able to speak as she whispers, “Not without you.”
My grip on the flesh of her hip tightens, the threat of her holding back enraging a side of me. A part of my soul buried deep inside that wants nothing more than to give her everything.
With the back of my arm sweeping across the desk, I clear a spot for her, letting everything else crash to the floor so I can move her to lay flat on the desk. The laptop stays to one side, but the phone, the papers and journal with all the numbers, my cell—all that shit clatters to the floor. Her ass is hanging off the desk and my cock is still buried deep inside of her.
I’ll make her cum. She won’t refuse me.
I take a second, only a single fucking second to wrap her leg higher around my hip so I have the perfect angle to slam myself deep inside of her until she can’t hold on any longer. So she’ll shatter beneath me like I need her to. But in that second, her eyes widen and she reaches for me, her hand grabbing my shirt and fisting it as she leans up, her shoulders lifting off the desk. As she swallows, I see the plea in her eyes, and how tense her neck becomes.
“Please,” she begs me as I hammer myself inside of her, forcing her head to be thrown back as her neck and back both threaten to arch. Even with my ruthless pace, she screams out for me to cum with her, to fall from the highest high and get lost in pieces beneath the world and the reality that plagues us.
“Carter,” she moans my name and I cave. I pick up my pace and feel the tingle at the base of my spine. My toes curl and I let them.
As much as I know this won’t last, I can’t deny her. I won’t do it. I love her too much, and that will be my downfall.
