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Pen Pal: Part 1 – Chapter 11


His mouth is somehow both soft and hard. It becomes evident quickly that this man not only knows how to give an incredible, barely-there butterfly kiss, he also knows how to give a kiss that’s devouring.

And so. Damn. Good.

He holds me tightly in his arms as he takes my mouth and I shiver against him, skin on skin, my pulse flying. I’m not even sure if I’m holding myself up or he is. We kiss passionately until he moans into my mouth and pulls away, panting.

He cups my breasts in his big rough hands and bends down to kiss them.

When his hot mouth closes over a hard nipple, I gasp at the sensation. I gasp again when he sucks. When his teeth scrape over that nipple at the same time he tweaks the other one between two fingers, I moan and sag against him, digging my hands into his hair.

I don’t care if this is crazy. I don’t care if this is wrong. I don’t care about anything right now except losing myself in this beautiful beast for a while.

My fucked-up life will be waiting for me right where I left it tomorrow.

Aidan picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and lower my head, hungry for his mouth. He gives it to me, thrusting his tongue between my lips and gripping my ass. We kiss as he turns and walks toward the bed and don’t stop kissing as he kneels on the mattress, lowers me down, and drops on top of me.

His weight. God, his weight is amazing. Michael weighed one-sixty-five after a big meal. Aidan must be well over two hundred pounds of pure muscle.

He kisses my jaw, my neck, my chest. My breasts again, too, roughly and greedily. I arch my back and close my eyes, loving how his beard feels against my skin. How hard he’s breathing. How he’s not treating me like I’m a fragile, breakable thing, but as if he thinks I’m strong enough to handle whatever he wants to give me.

And I want him to give me everything.

Like right fucking now.

Squirming underneath him, I say breathlessly, “Take off my jeans. Hurry.”

He lifts his head and gazes at me with hot eyes. “What’s the rush?”

“You just told me I’m the boss. So I’m telling you to hurry.”

Holding my gaze, he lowers his head and traces his tongue round and round my aching nipple. Which I take to mean that him saying I’m the boss was only a figure of speech.

He moves to the other nipple and does the same thing. Braced on his elbows, he lies on top of me between my spread thighs and goes back and forth between my breasts, sucking and licking, until I’m whimpering and begging him not to tease me.

“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he says in a throaty voice. “I’m giving you what you need.”

I’d pass out, but I don’t want to miss anything.

He kisses and licks his way down my stomach to the waistband of my jeans, then slides the tip of his tongue underneath it. When I shudder, groaning, he chuckles.

Then he rips open the button, pulls down the zipper, shoves his face in the opening, and inhales.

He makes a noise deep in his throat. A primal, masculine sound of desire that sends a shiver straight through me. With another fast movement, he yanks my jeans down my hips, exposing me.

He buries his face between my legs and starts licking.

Moaning helplessly, I plunge my hands into his hair and time the movement of my hips to the strokes of his tongue. I can’t open my thighs wider because they’re now restricted by the waistband of my jeans, but it doesn’t matter. Aidan knows exactly what he’s doing. He slides his hands under my ass and lifts my hips, gripping my ass cheeks and French kissing my pussy as I writhe and moan in desperation.

Shuddering, I gasp his name.

“Come on,” he whispers hotly, flicking his tongue back and forth over my throbbing clit. “Let go, baby.”

I’ve never had a man call me that before. Michael didn’t use nicknames, and the boyfriends I had before him didn’t either. I don’t know why I find it so insanely sexy, but I do. I don’t want him to call me Kayla ever again.

He stops licking to suckle on my clit like he’s drawing milk from a nipple. I orgasm in his mouth, mindlessly crying out his name.

He continues sucking until I beg him to stop because it’s too sensitive. Then he stands up, pulls my jeans the rest of the way down my legs, pops open the buttons on his fly, and tears his own jeans off.

I get a split-second view of thigh tattoos and an erection surrounded by dark pubic hair before Aidan is on top of me again, kissing me passionately as he slides the head of his cock up and down between my pussy lips to get it lubricated.

He shoves it inside me with one sudden, forceful thrust.

As I cry out, he growls into my ear, “Tell me if I need to pull out, or I’m gonna come inside you.”

Without waiting for an answer, he starts to fuck me deep and hard.

And I love it. God help me, but I do. He said he was going to make love to me, but this is far more animalistic than that. It’s rough and rowdy, and I have to fight back the laugh of euphoria that wants to break from my chest.

When he takes my mouth again, I taste myself on him. Some dim part of my brain recognizes that all the lights are on, and I should probably be feeling at least a little self-conscious, but there’s no room for that. With every powerful thrust of his hips, he’s taking me out of my head and deeper into my body, making me feel everything.

My hard nipples dragging against his chest.

His fingers pulling my hair.

Our teeth clashing as we kiss deeply.

The noises we’re both making and the sounds of our bodies joining. I think I can even hear his heart pounding as madly as mine.

Then he startles me by rolling to his back and taking me with him. Panting, I stare down at him in a haze of pleasure. I flatten my hands over his broad chest.

He licks his lips and runs his hands up and down my body, pausing to squeeze my breasts, then follows the shape of my rib cage and waist down to my hips. He digs his fingers into the flesh there and flexes his pelvis upward, driving himself deeper inside me.

“Move,” he orders through clenched teeth.

The man doesn’t have to ask twice. I bounce up and down on his hard cock until my thighs are aching and both of us are groaning and sweating and he says, “You need to come?”

“Yes!”

He presses his thumb against my clit and keeps it there as I work my hips, madly gorging myself on his thick shaft.

He commands darkly, “Then do it.

It’s as if he threw a switch. My vagina starts to convulse, clenching around his dick in violent, rhythmic pulses. They’re so powerful, I lose my breath. I drop my head back, close my eyes, and sink my fingernails into his chest muscles, listening to him grunt in pleasure as he fucks me and I come hard on his cock.

He reaches up and roughly squeezes my breast. “So fucking good,” he hisses. “Jesus Christ. Kayla. Fuck. I’m right—”

He breaks off with a groan and comes inside me, jerking.

I look down at him.

His eyes are closed. His head is tipped back on the pillow. His abdominal muscles are clenched and so are his jaw and biceps. His skin gleams with a light sheen of sweat. A vein is popped out and pulsing wildly in the side of his neck, and I understand with a flash of brilliant clarity that this felt as good for him as it did for me.

That feeling of euphoria returns. Without knowing I’m going to do it, I start to laugh.

Breathing hard, Aidan opens his eyes and gazes up at me.

He says gruffly, “You good?”

I grin at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not having a psychotic break or anything. This is just like wow.”

His dark eyes flashing, he returns my grin and squeezes my hips. He looks like a pirate who just found a shitload of gold treasure.

I’m hit with the sudden awful thought that he might think this is just another average Thursday night for me. Like maybe hopping into bed with semi-strangers is par for the course, and this was nothing special.

I don’t want him to think that.

So I say, “I promise I don’t normally do this. Actually, I’ve never done this before.”

“Had sex?”

I thump him on his chest. “You know what I mean, funny guy.”

Still grinning, he grabs me around the waist and rolls me to my back, keeping his cock inside me. He settles his weight between my legs and leans down so our chests are pressed together. Then he kisses me deeply, holding my head in his big hands.

When we come up for air, he murmurs, “Lucky me.”

I wrap my legs around his back and my arms around his shoulders and sigh in contentment.

He nuzzles my neck, inhaling deeply into my hair, then exhaling with a noise of pleasure. He whispers, “I wanted to get you dry, but I ended up getting you even wetter, didn’t I?”

“Don’t sound so pleased with yourself.”

He chuckles. “I am, though. That was incredible.”

A little shiver of satisfaction runs through my body. Then I start to worry what I’m supposed to do next. Stay? Sleep? Put my wet clothes into his dryer and pace around in simmering embarrassment until I can run away?

He raises his head and stares down at me. “You’re spending the night.”

I blink in surprise. “Are you a mind reader or something?”

“No. Why?”

“Um. No reason.”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, fine. I was just wondering if I should go home now.”

“I just told you that you’re spending the night. You can leave in the morning and have the rest of your life to worry that this was a mistake, but for tonight, you’re staying right here.”

He flexes his hips when he says “here,” letting me know he’s not done sexing me up yet.

“What if I want to leave?”

“You don’t.”

“You seem pretty sure of that.”

He kisses me softly on the lips. Smiling, he says, “I like it when I irritate you.”

“That’s unfortunate, because I like it when I’m not being irritated.”

“Your mouth gets all puckered and your nose wrinkles up. You look like a prissy little old lady.”

“Whoa, slow down with the compliments, Romeo! I’ll swoon hard and hit my head on something.”

“Know what I just realized?” he whispers, eyes burning.

I say tartly, “That your life is in danger?”

“That now I know what you sound like when you come.”

“So what about it?”

He lowers his head and bites my earlobe, then says gruffly, “So it’s my new favorite sound. I want to hear it again.”

Then he thrusts his hips, driving into me.

My moan is broken. Eyelids fluttering, I say, “How are you still hard?”

“I’m not done fucking you yet, that’s how.”

“Oh, that reminds me. You promised you were going to make love to me, not fuck me.”

“Semantics.” He thrusts again.

I say breathlessly, “No, I remember. You said make love.”

“I said I’d give you what you need. Which is exactly what I’m doing.” He thrusts again, this time leaning down to suck hard on the side of my throat as he does it.

I moan softly, arching against him, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck as I rock my pelvis into his.

It makes him chuckle darkly. “See?”

Tugging on a lock of his hair, I whisper, “Time to shut up now, Aidan.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Without another word, he snaps his hips, driving his hard cock into me. He does it again when I shudder and moan. He keeps up the pace, fucking me relentlessly and kissing me all over my neck and breasts, until I start to buck and cry out, clawing my fingernails into his shoulders.

His mouth next to my ear, he says in a guttural voice, “Is this what you need, baby? You like it rough? Or do you want me to recite some poetry and make you a cup of fucking tea?”

“This! This!”

His laugh is so dark and pleased, it makes me shiver. I orgasm listening to that laugh and wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.


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