by Zoey Castile
“Was that my nightcap?” I ask.
“The night’s not over, Aiden.” Her smile is devilish as she leads me a couple of blocks farther to her car.
We drive with the windows down. The sleepy Southern streets cast a golden glow around us. I take her hand and kiss her fingers, the inside of her wrist where her pulse is frantic.
“That tickles,” she says.
“I want to discover every part of you that makes you tickle.”
I nearly jolt out of my seat when she hits the gas, and then we’re zooming up the street. I think we run a light just before we get to her house. Faith looks at me, eyes full of secret whispers and kisses stolen in the dark.
And she says the words I want to hear her say over and over. “Come inside, Aiden.”
14
Despacito
FAITH
In my house, in my bedroom, in the dark, I kiss Aiden.
I kiss him around the burn on his cheek. He thankfully let me put a salve on it. We didn’t make it to the whiskey on my bar cart. We didn’t make it past the front door without touching each other. His hands are everywhere at once, holding on to me with a fervor that almost scares me. Because I’ve never been held like this. Like I might disappear right before his eyes. Like he wants to make sure I’m real. Like he only wants me.
I push him onto my bed, a wicked smile widens on his face as he looks me up and down. I climb on top of him, straddling him on the edge of my bed. I can feel the outline of something in his pocket.
“What’s this?” I ask.
He pulls it out and bites his lips as he draws out a condom. “Me making a wish.”
I unbutton his shirt, surprised that my fingers are trembling with anticipation. That familiar tightness coils in the pit of my stomach as he lets me undress him. I lower myself to kiss the broad muscles of his shoulders. His chest rises against mine, his hands moving up from my calves and settling on my thighs.
“Faith.” When he says my name, it feels like he’s praying. He gathers my dress around my hips. We keep getting to this moment, and it’s like something is trying to stop us. He believes in this all-powerful universe, but whatever that was, there’s nothing to stop us now. I’ve waited for this moment for days.
I move farther up on his lap. A deep groan escapes his throat, because I know he can feel how soaking wet I am through my underwear. He wraps his hands around my waist and catches my lower lip, nips gently with his teeth. I return the bite on his ear.
“I want you,” I whisper.
“I want you more,” he says, kissing fast and hungrily across my neck.
I’ve never met a guy who likes to kiss as much as Aiden does. His full, warm lips dot kisses, like he’s leaving breadcrumbs to find his way back. His clever fingers unhook the back of my dress, and when he tugs the zipper down, I wriggle against him. His cock twitches against my center, and I love the sound he makes when he reacts to me.
“Oh God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he moans, dragging his tongue across the tops of my breasts. He pulls down the lace fabric of my bra to release my nipples. They harden beneath the tickle of his tongue. I hiss when he bites gently.
“I want you inside me, now.”
I feel his teeth against my skin when he smiles. “This time, I’m going to take my time with you.”
“Tease,” I say and gasp because suddenly, it’s like we’re dancing all over again, my spine arched back with one of his hands to support me. He kisses the space between my breasts, the place between my ribs that comes undone as he slides my dress down around my waist.
A deep, primitive growl escapes him as he lifts me into the air and flips me onto my back. He pulls my dress down my hips and over my knees. I help him kick it off. There’s fire in his eyes when he stares at me.
“Why are you smirking like that?” I ask him.
“You’re matching this time,” he says, his eyebrow ticking up.
I finger the hem of my lace underwear. “Do you like it?”
“I would like them better in my mouth.”
But he doesn’t move. I reach for him because he’s too far away and the absence of his weight on me is like losing something vital.
“Come back, Aiden,” I whisper, tracing the same spot beneath my bra where his tongue just was.
“Tell me, Faith.” He undoes his belt buckle, his voice gruff. “Where do you need me?”
I move my hands along the soft flesh of my abdomen. Rub down between my legs. “Right here.”
“Show me,” he says, and the hardness in his voice sends a thrill right through my core. “Show me exactly where you need me.”
He pulls his belt in one swift movement and tosses it aside. Then he goes for his button.
When he unclasps it, I drop one of my knees to the side and let my fingers roam the top of my heat. I’m soaked right through. I push the fabric aside, unraveling myself in front of him. I thread my finger between my lips and find my clit. I gasp, surprised at how hard and sensitive I am.
“Aiden.” I say his name. I rub circles around my clit with one hand and around my nipple with the other. My voice climbs an octave. “I need you.”
He climbs out of his pants. There is absolutely nothing underneath except his glorious cock. He takes his dick in his own hand and strokes.
“Keep doing it,” he tells me. Commands me.
“Not fair,” I say, realize I’m pouting. I never pout. I’ve never done a lot of things like care about my matching underwear or touch myself like this, because girls like me should have restraint, control. Girls like me don’t fall for guys like him. But when a shock of pleasure buzzes through me with my next stroke, I don’t care what I should or shouldn’t do. There is just Aiden and me and this feeling that I can’t ignore.
He flashes a smile made for sin. “I want you to feel good, Faith. That’s all I want.”
“I’d feel better with you inside me.” I press myself into the mattress. I lift my finger, watch him watch me as I bring it to my lips and taste myself.
He makes a sound that I can feel deep in my ribs because I’ve lured him back to me, his knees making the mattress sink on either side of me. He takes my wet, slippery finger into his mouth and sucks it clean. Kisses the inside of my wrist.
He nudges my thighs open with his knees. I can feel the heavy weight of his cock between my legs. I reach for him, but he takes my wrists and pins them on either side of me.
“So eager,” he says playfully.
I wriggle beneath him to show him just how eager I am. The head of his cock slides between my wetness. I want to know what Aiden feels like inside me. And I know that this is dangerous territory I’ve never let myself explore.
“Fuck. Fuck me, you’re so wet.” He shudders against me, our bodies slick with sweat and desire. He keeps my wrists pinned down. His face is buried in my neck. “Everything about you sets me on fire, Faith.”
“Fuck me, Aiden. Please, fuck me.”
“Yes, baby,” he says, letting go of my wrists, and finds the condom on the bed. He rips it open and slides it up the thick length of his cock. My heart skips a beat when he presses the head against my opening. I dig my nails into his back, and when Aiden slips inside, I could burst at the seams.
AIDEN
I wanted to take my time. To not have a repeat of the first time she put her delectable, unbelievable hands around my dick. I wanted to make her feel like she’s never felt before. But I’m selfish. I couldn’t wait. Hearing her beg my name, call out my name.
“Fuck me, Aiden. Please, fuck me.”
How am I supposed to deny her? Wriggling her wet pussy against me. I grab her around her thighs and sink into her wet spot. I shut my eyes and bury my face in the crook of her neck. I feel the breath escape her when I inch inside. I can hardly breathe myself. She’s so tight, her walls close around me. They nearly push me back out. She lets out a tiny squeal, and I’m desperate to hear it again. But I freeze, I don’t move. I can’t until I know she’s okay.
<
br /> “Am I hurting you?” I ask.
She shakes her head. I pull out. I need to hear her say it. “Faith? Look at me.”
Her eyes are open. Her tits bursting through the sweet pink lace of her bra.
“No,” she pants, and slaps my ass hard. “Come back inside. Please.”
This time, I get in a little bit farther. I can feel the ripple of her walls around my shaft. If I close my eyes, I know this is the best dream I never want to wake from. I could bury myself inside her and never come out.
She slaps my ass again, and the shock of it makes me jerk deeper inside of her. She does it again and again, digging her nails in so hard that I think I’ll bruise. And then I’m so deep inside that if I move, I’m going to fucking break apart, crumble into a thousand tiny pieces because I want to come all over her. Inside of her.
She wriggles against me, fucking me back. Her tits bounce up and down, and I press myself against her. Take one of her wrists and pin it back down.
When she cries out a moan, I catch it with my mouth. I pump my cock harder and deeper until she can’t speak another word except my name, and the walls inside of her sweet cunt collapse around me, drawing the life out of me as she comes and screams my name.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.
It triggers something deep inside of me when she moans, “Come inside me.”
In this moment I’ve never been as close to someone in my life as I am to Faith. I’ve fucked and banged and made love to women hundreds of times. So many times that sometimes I know I’m going through the motions, even when it feels good. But this—I don’t think I’ve found the words for it. I am the spark of midnight on New Year’s. Fire spinning, stars clashing, hearts racing. I am unraveling as the twisting, delicious feeling travels in my dick until it bursts, and I’m coming inside of her harder than I ever thought possible. I’ve been emptied out. My entire body wants to sink into her. A jolt of terror runs through me.
Because even after all of that, I want more.
FAITH
I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. When was the last time I had a man in my bed? Share the same space? Fill me the way Aiden did. I don’t have to think long on it before I realize that, yeah, the last man I dated on the real was two years ago.
But the last time I had someone in my home? That was longer. I don’t let men spend the night. I’m no prude, but my sex life has always been perfunctory. Like I was trying to fill a quota of what I should be doing instead of my heart.
You can’t think about your heart, I remind myself.
Not when it comes to Aiden.
This is what it is. Mutual itch scratching. Mutual needs being met.
Then again, if that were so, why is he tracing my thighs like I’m made out of the finest glass, like I might shatter if he holds me with too much force? Why do I have my arm and leg across his body? Too possessive. Too bare and intimate and all of the things that we are not supposed to be.
I let my fingers explore his fantastic abs. I don’t usually like men that are so muscular. I love my men tall and beefy and thick. Aiden has definitely got the thick part covered where it counts. But he’s got that dancer’s build. Long, tight muscles I bet would chip my teeth if I took too hard a bite.
The thought makes me giggle. He traces the length of my jaw, guiding my face up to him. I don’t think I’d ever get tired of the pools of honey that are his eyes. I get caught in them.
“It does a lot for my confidence that you’re laughing at my naked body,” he tells me.
My index finger makes a long line along the happy trail that points home. His dick jolts to attention when I do that.
“Not at you,” I say.
“With me?”
“No. Just thinking about what it would be like if I bit you.” I look back down at his abdomen. I feel something like satisfaction as his cock hardens with a single touch.
“It depends on which part of me you’re biting,” he says, his voice husky. “My body is yours for the taking.”
That has my attention. Slowly I crawl back up on top of him. His erection is perched right between my ass cheeks. I can feel myself get wet, hot against him. I bet if I writhed against his abs, he’d make me come just with his muscles.
“Faith,” he says, looking up at me in a way that makes a knot form in my throat. Why does he look at me so intensely?
“Aiden?” I shut my eyes and enjoy the slippery wetness of moving against him, and him sliding between my cheeks.
“I’d hate to be anything but a gentleman. But that was the only condom I brought.”
“Oh,” I gasp.
“Really?” he asks.
“Oh, no, not that.” Well, almost that. I lower myself onto his chest, my breasts against his. His warm breath is sweet in front of me. “I bought some. They’re in the car.”
“Say no more.” He gently pulls me off.
He slips his pants back on and grabs the silk kimono, all covered in pink flowers and leaves, that is hanging off my dressing chair. His thick head of dark hair is still, somehow, perfectly arranged as if by witchcraft. “You’re going to scare Mrs. Friedman next door.”
“With this face?” He touches his cheeks and chin. “I don’t think so.”
And then he’s gone, and the absence of him is stark.
“This is ridiculous,” I say out loud. I have to speak it out loud. What would my mother say if she visited me right now? The chances are slim, since it’s past midnight, but still. I know what’s on the line. I know what this means to my mother. But I can’t stop wanting him. It’s primordial, feral even. If I’m honest with myself, it’s downright lust. Maybe the reason we’re magnets is because we’re both hurting in different ways.
And then a seed of doubt strikes me. What if we’re not colliding because we’re magnets? What if we’re more like runaway trains and the inevitable crash that the psychic warned about. The Death card. The Seven of Wands.
“You don’t believe in that stuff,” I remind myself.
I go to my bathroom. I finish taking off my underwear and wash up quickly. I rub my favorite lotion on my arms and elbows. There’s a dew on my cheekbones that no highlighter can replicate, and my mouth is plump from the way he bit me.
I squeeze my thighs at the memory of him. Because I can’t stop myself. Because this train is on its course.
When I hear my front door open again, I flick the lights off except one and lean against the bathroom doorway.
“You’re right. I did scare someone. But I don’t think he minded—” He stops abruptly, short of dropping the little black bag in his hands. “Not that I don’t miss the lace, but damn. You’re so fucking sexy.”
“How sexy am I?” I love the way he looks at me. It drives that sensation deeper into my core.
He throws the bag on the bed. Pushes my kimono off his beautiful muscles and onto the ground. “So sexy I feel overdressed. Look at what you do to me, Faith.”
He steps closer, and even though he’s only across my room, it’s like wading through a raging river to get to him.
“What I do?” I let my finger slide from my collarbone, down my breast, and around my waist.
“You. Just looking at you. Being near you. The first day I looked at you my dick was so hard I couldn’t even stand.” He undoes his pants, his heavy erection bared for me. He keeps walking toward me like I’ve sunk a hook into him and I’m reeling him in. I shouldn’t like this power. But who says I shouldn’t? “Today, walking to your car was the longest minute of my day.”
I feel myself pout. “Just your day?”
“My week. My whole fucking month. When I’m away from you? I can’t think straight. I see your face when I go to sleep and when I wake up. When I fuck my own fucking hand because I couldn’t be inside you.”
I take his hand in mine and guide it to my aching apex. He lets go of a hard sigh when he sinks a finger in. He lowers his forehead against mine. A sharp hiss is on his tongue when I grab h
is thick cock. I stroke him just as he’s stroking me, until we find a rhythm, until my legs are tumbling and I have to brace myself against him.
“Not yet,” he whispers in my ear. When he withdraws his hand, I get that empty feeling again. Like I’m missing a part of myself.
He retrieves the bag I bought and makes himself at home in my bed. I love the way he looks there, like the king of the castle. My castle. My king. Like he’s always belonged here.
“What do we have here?” he chuckles in a dark, devious way. How is he so good at being the perfect amount of playful and sexy? Most guys try too hard to be only sexy, but Aiden—he’s effortless. “Oh, I like this.”
“It was an impulse purchase,” I say, climbing in front of him and resting on my knees. It’s like fucking Christmas and I’m waiting to see if he likes the present.
“I’ve never used this,” he says, holding the vibrating ring between his delicious fingers. “Or this.”
“It’s supposed to make you feel tingly. Down there.”
“Mi reina,” he says, squeezing my inner thigh with one hand. I love when he calls me that. “I don’t need a gel for that. I told you. Everything about you makes me feel like that.”
“Not everything,” I say, skeptical. We’ve all heard that line.
He lies on his side, propped up on one elbow, and I mirror him. “Everything. The way your nose wrinkles when you’re thinking hard about something. Your compassion. How you care about things others don’t. Your mind. Your opinions.”
“I have a lot of them.”
“And you speak them. You aren’t afraid to speak them. And every word you say is just made sexier by your absolutely fuckable mouth.”
“You want to fuck my mouth?”
“I want to fuck every part of you.” He brushes a thumb across my top lip. My eyes fall on the long stretch of his dick, the heavy head wet with precum. I take his thumb into my mouth and roll my tongue around it.
“I want to be crushed by your tongue,” he says, a dark growl at the back of his throat.
