Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Fueled by this new me, I drag my free hand from his waist to his abs, watching the way his abdomen tightens in response. His grip on the wall shifts as he battles for control over his body.
I lean up and kiss him.
Open-mouthed as water pours over us, our tongues tangling. Hot breath and desire mixes with steam as we involuntarily moan into each other’s mouths, his groan growing louder with every stroke.
Aaron breaks the kiss first.
Pulls back, gripping my wrist.
Breathes in and out, chest heaving.
Eyes squeezing shut.
I stare up at him, confused. What does he want? Why is he stopping? I thought…
“What’s wrong?”
His eyes open slowly. “Nothing is wrong, Juliette. I want you so bad right now it’s not even fucking funny.”
His grip on my wrist softens.
“We don’t have a condom,” he confesses, running his hands through his soaked hair.
I step into him, sliding my hands up his chest, pressing my body flush against his.
“Pull out,” I demand softly, fingers reaching between his legs and cupping his balls. “I don’t want you to stop,”
Aaron moans. “Jesus Christ, Juliette…”
“I love it when you curse,” I admit. “I don’t know why, but everything about you turns me on.”
He blows out a puff of air. “Every time I see you wearing a ribbon in your hair I want to fuck your brains out.”
My lips part at his blunt admission.
“I…” Those ribbons are hardly something that inspire…
Fucking.
“Put your hands on the bench and go up on your toes.”
Oh…
I do as I’m told.
Palms brace against the warm tile. Water cascades down my arms. My pulse is loud in my ears as I lift onto my toes, arching when he moves behind me… hands gliding up my spine… slowly… possessively… settling at the back of my neck before drifting down to my hip.
He exhales a shaky breath. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
His hand tightens at my hip, guiding my stance, changing the angle because he knows exactly how he wants me. The dominance in it sends a sharp thrill through me.
“Do you like it when I tell you what to do?” he rumbles against my back, lips pressing against my neck, hands sliding to my breasts, cupping them, toying with my nipples.
“Yes.”
I am breathless.
Shaking.
He tilts my ass up when he fits his erection between my legs, and I reach between my thighs to adjust him, fitting him inside. Gasping at the sensation of taking him bare.
God, he feels good.
My head hangs, wet hair falling forward on the tile bench.
Aaron thrusts all the way inside with a long, guttural moan. “Shit.” He hesitates. “Holy shit.”
I shift my body to accommodate him. It’s not like he’s snack sized; his big dick and powerful body aren’t easy to have sex with.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “Hold on a sec.”
He stops again, like he didn’t expect it to feel like this either. His hands clamp at my hips, holding me still.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He pauses again. “We’re good.”
The moment he presses forward, the moment there is no space left between us, the air leaves my lungs in a broken pant.
I realize he was taking control.
But now he’s losing it.
He exhales sharply, hips stuttering for half a second before he reins himself in again, fighting for control he’s clearly losing.
“I’m not going to last,” he admits roughly. “You’re too tight, babe. You feel so fucking good.”
I nod, lips barely moving to tell him, “It’s okay.”
This is the Aaron I want to see: vulnerable and exposed with all his defenses down. There is no better compliment than a man who gets so aroused he can’t last more than a minute inside me without coming.
He pumps in and out, our moans and panting silenced only by the beat of the water in the shower.
“Oh fuck. F-fuck, Juliette—I’m gonna come.”
Aaron pumps again, pulling back. Pulling out. Coming on my back, he remains bent over me, forehead resting between my shoulder blades at the same time his fingers tenderly brace at my neck, last of the tremors coursing through him.
TWENTY
AARON
What the fuck am I doing?
Seriously.
What the fuck am… I. Doing?
Juliette’s bare leg is thrown over mine. My arm is around her waist. She’s talking quietly about something called girl code—how her friend Blaire expects an update or she’ll assume the worst—and I’m nodding like a man who hasn’t built this entire situation on a lie.
Her fingers trace idle lines across my chest absentmindedly.
Trusting.
But see, that’s the problem.
She trusts me.
I know it as well as I know my own damn name.
I look over at her, so close I can see every pore on her skin: face scrubbed clean, lashes bare. No make-up. Damp hair. She looks far younger than she actually is, though to be honest, I have no idea what her age is.
Best not to get too tangled up in details, given the temporary nature of this fucked-up situation.