CHAPTER 101: PLEASURES WITHOUT ATTACHMENTS

(MATURE CONTENT AHEAD)

Aiden’s POV

The second that one word—yes—fell from her lips, I lost it.

I kissed her like I was a dying man and she was the only thing keeping me alive.

And maybe she was.

Because nothing—nothing—had ever felt like this before.

Her lips were soft and warm, parting for me so easily, so perfectly, like they were made for me. Like she was made for me.

When I felt her knees give out, instinct took over.

I grabbed her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, groaning at how natural it felt to have her wrapped around me. Fuck. This was right.

Her body was small against mine, but the way she fit against me? Perfect.

I pressed her harder against the door, needing more, needing all of her. My grip tightened on her waist as I rolled my hips against her, swallowing the soft gasp that left her lips.

She felt it.

I know she did.

That little noise she made sent a sharp bolt of arousal straight through me, and I had to fight the urge to rip her clothes off right here, right now.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging slightly, making me growl against her mouth. Fuck, she was going to be the death of me.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, and the sight wrecked

me.

Her lips were swollen, slightly parted as she panted, her eyes dark with something I had never seen in them before—something that was just for me.

I dragged my lips down her jaw, murmuring against her skin, "Say it again."

I felt her shudder in my arms before she whispered, "Yes."

That was it.

I was gone.

Her breath hitched as I pressed her harder against the door, her legs locked tight around my waist. I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric separating us, and fuck, I was already hard—aching for her in a way that had nothing to do with this agreement we’d made and everything to do with her.

But this wasn’t about feelings. Couldn’t be.

This was just sex. Just a way to let off some steam.

So why did it feel like something more?

I shoved the thought away and focused on her instead—on the way her breath hitched every time I moved, on the way her fingers twisted in my hair, tugging me closer like she needed this just as much as I did.

I kissed her again, harder this time, dragging my teeth over her bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth. She whimpered—fucking whimpered—and I felt my restraint snap a little more.

My hands slid under her shirt, fingertips brushing the soft skin of her waist as I pushed the fabric up, exposing more of her to me. My palms roamed up her ribs, slow and teasing, until my thumbs traced the underside of her breasts.

No bra.

Fuck.

I groaned against her mouth, rolling my hips into her just to hear that sound again—that sharp inhale, that helpless little gasp that told me she was just as wrecked as I was.

"You’re already trembling," I murmured against her lips, smirking when she tried to glare at me but only managed to look even more desperate.

"I—I’m not," she denied, but her voice was breathless, her nails digging into my shoulders like she needed something to ground her.

I chuckled darkly. "Liar."

Before she could come up with another excuse, I dipped my head, dragging my lips down the column of her throat. She arched against me instantly, exposing more of that perfect skin, and I took my time, kissing and nipping my way down.

I could taste her pulse, feel the rapid beat under my lips, and the thought that I was the reason for it sent a rush of possessiveness through me.

I pushed the feeling down.

This wasn’t about that.

I licked over the spot where her pulse thrummed hardest, then bit down gently, grinning when she let out a soft, broken moan.

"You like that?" I asked, voice thick with want.

She didn’t answer, just buried her face against my shoulder like she could hide from me. Cute.

I dragged my lips lower, lower, until my mouth was on her chest, my hands shoving her shirt the rest of the way up so I could get my lips on her properly.

Her breath hitched, and then she was writhing against me, her hips rolling instinctively against mine.

Fuck, I felt that.

"You’re so sensitive," I murmured, my tongue flicking over one hardened peak. She gasped, back arching off the door. "Wonder how sensitive you’d be if I put my mouth lower."

Her fingers tightened in my hair. "Aiden..."

I hummed against her skin, biting down lightly just to make her squirm. "That’s my name, sweetheart. Say it again."

She let out a shuddery breath, and I grinned against her.

This was going to be fun.

Last time we did this, we were both intoxicated—at least, she was. I wasn’t that drunk, not enough to forget the way she felt under me, the way she came apart with just a little coaxing. But this?

This was different.

Because now I was sober. Now I was locking every little reaction into my mind, burning it into me like something I never wanted to forget.

The way she moaned against my lips, breathless and needy.

The way she trembled when I sucked on her lower lip, like she could barely handle it.

The way her body fit perfectly against mine, like she was fucking made for me.

I couldn’t get enough.

I dragged my hands over her body, memorizing the shape of her. My palms skimmed down her back, gripping her ass and rolling her hips into me just to feel her gasp against my mouth. She was grinding on me now, slow and desperate, seeking friction, seeking release, and fuck—she felt so good.

Her breasts pressed against my chest, soft and warm, and when I slid my hands up to cup them, I felt her breath hitch. Her nipples were already hard, straining against the thin fabric of her shirt, and I couldn’t help myself—I pinched one lightly between my fingers, rolling it, and her whole body jerked in response.

"Aiden—" she gasped, breaking the kiss just to moan my name.

Shit. That did something to me.

I smirked, dragging my mouth to her neck again, kissing, sucking, biting—just to feel her arch against me, just to hear the sounds she made when I pushed her just right.

"Still pretending you don’t want this?" I murmured against her skin, teasing, because I knew she did. I could feel how badly she wanted this, how wet she was just from grinding against me.

She didn’t answer. Just tightened her grip on me, fingers fisting in my hair as if that was all the answer I needed.

Yeah. That was good enough for me.

She didn’t answer me with words, but the way her body reacted—the way she clung to me, nails digging into my shoulders as she rocked against me—that was all the confirmation I needed.

I smirked against her neck, nipping the sensitive skin right below her ear just to hear her sharp intake of breath. Then I did it again, slower this time, dragging my tongue over the same spot before sucking lightly, letting my teeth graze her skin.

"Aiden," she whimpered, her voice breathless, and fuck—the way she said my name had my cock throbbing against the tightness of my jeans.

I rolled my hips up into her, slow and deliberate, grinding against the heat between her thighs, and she shuddered, throwing her head back against the door.

"Feel that?" I murmured, lips brushing against her jaw, her pulse racing beneath my mouth. "You do that to me, Alexia."

She gasped, her hands slipping under my shirt, fingers splaying against my bare skin, nails raking lightly over my back. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, a sharp contrast to the heat building between us.

I moved one hand between us, sliding up under her shirt, my fingers tracing the smoothness of her stomach before traveling higher, teasing the curve of her breast.

"Fuck," I breathed when I fondle her soft perfect breast.

She let out a small sound as I cupped her breast, her nipple already hard against my palm. I rolled it between my fingers, loving how she arched into my touch, how her hips bucked against me like she needed more.

"Sensitive, aren’t you?" I teased, flicking my thumb over her nipple just to make her whimper.

"Shut up," she muttered, but her body betrayed her, pressing against me, seeking more of my touch.

I chuckled, my free hand gripping her thigh as I rocked into her again, pressing her harder against the door. Fuck, I wanted her.

I wanted her so badly.

I tugged at her shirt, impatient, wanting to see her—wanting all of her. She lifted her arms, letting me pull it over her head, and the sight of her—breathless, flushed, half-naked, mine—had me groaning, my restraint hanging on by a thread.

"You’re fucking beautiful," I said, voice rough, unable to hold back the words.

She bit her lip, eyes dark with arousal, and when she reached for my shirt, I didn’t stop her. She dragged it over my head, her hands immediately roaming over my chest, tracing the lines of my muscles, her nails scraping lightly over my skin.

Then, without warning, she leaned forward and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against my collarbone.

Fuck.

I wasn’t expecting that.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my grip tightening on her hips as her lips trailed lower, down my chest, her tongue flicking over my skin, teasing me, driving me crazy.

"You’re playing dangerous, Alexia," I warned, my voice strained.

She smirked, her mouth grazing over my abs before she dragged her tongue along the sharp line of my hip bone. "You started it," she murmured, her breath hot against my skin.

Yeah. I did.

And I sure as hell was going to finish it.