by Charish Reid
Aiden nearly lost control as he watched her full breasts tumble from her undergarment. The gentle slope of her breasts ended in stiff peaks. Like magnets, Aiden’s hands went to them. Squeezing and massaging while she unfastened her jeans. She wasn’t going fast enough for him, so he flipped her onto her back.
“Oh!” she yelped.
“I can help you with that,” he said, unzipping her jeans and pulling them from her waist.
“Thank you,” she said. “Can I help you with anything?”
Aiden grinned at her pleasantries. Antonia was a real smart-ass when she wanted to be. He wrenched her pants to her knees and past her feet before tossing them to the floor. He started on his own pants next, his hands shook as he quickly tore apart his belt buckle. “No, I think I can manage from here.”
Sliding his pants down was more of a chore than he thought it would be. He nearly tripped over himself as he freed one foot. Aiden hopped out of the other pant leg and kicked them across the room. Finally, he stood triumphantly, in his underwear, fists on his hips and beaming down at Antonia.
Her expression changed from wanton sex goddess to alarm when her eyes traveled to his waist. Her voice caught in her throat and her mouth fell open when she saw his arousal through his gray boxer briefs. He glanced down at himself. “Yep,” he said with a satisfied grin.
“Your length...it’s rather, lengthy,” she said as she absently licked her bottom lip.
“I’ll expect to read about it in your book,” he said. When he pushed his underwear down, he heard a soft gasp escape her lips. Aiden hung there in all his glory, while Antonia stared at him. She found the small packet near her and absently tossed it at him. Aiden caught it with one hand and ripped it open with his teeth. He watched her as he slid the sheath up along his cock, feeling a jolt of pleasure from her expression. Aiden knelt down and climbed onto the bed beside her. With his head rested against plush pillows he beckoned her with his eyes.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now you can take a ride,” he said with a wink.
Antonia slid her panties down her thighs and kicked them to the floor. She slowly crawled up to the headboard and straddled him again. Her wet softness rested against his thigh as she struggled to figure out her next step. While she waited, he explored her body with his hands. With firm thighs on either side of him, he spread them wider so he could see her even better.
Beautiful.
He ran the back of his fingers up her velvet soft lips and stopped at her belly. He reached around and cupped her bottom with one large hand. Her ass was a perfect fit within his grasp, he wondered what else would be a perfect fit. Antonia’s skin was so soft under his fingertips. He was amazed by her movements, the careful rocking of her hips along his length. Antonia’s breathing became deeper as his became shallow.
She took his heavy cock in her hand and stroked upward. Aiden swallowed and released a long, ragged breath. She had no idea what she was doing to him. “Antonia, please.”
“Please what?” she purred in dulcet tones. Her eyes seemed to grow darker above him. Under the halo of loose curls that framed her face, she looked wild and alive. If he was the devil, she was the temptress who bewitched his body. She handled him like a cat playing with a mouse. She knows what she’s doing.
The words died in his throat while she rubbed the head of his cock against her opening. “Jaysus...” he groaned. Aiden’s eyes fell shut as his back arched away from the bed.
When Antonia eased herself onto him, he thought he would come from that bit of tension. The resistance made him grit his teeth. She was slow and teasing, pulling away from him and slipping on again. He gripped her hips and tried to steady his breathing. He wanted desperately to be inside her, but waited in agony as she played with him.
“Antonia,” he rasped, the cords of his neck stretching.
“What, Aiden?” Her smile curled as she gazed at him under hooded lids. She looked positively radiant hovering above him, her breasts pushed together as she gripped him. “What do you want?”
He gave up. “Fuck me,” he growled, pushing her hips down roughly. Only after filling her to the hilt did he take a tiny breath.
She rode him expertly, lifting and rolling her hips forward while her hands were planted on his chest. The sensation of her wet walls tightening around him drove him on the edge of madness. As she continued the slow and steady motion, sliding up and down his engorged rod, Aiden took a hold of her bouncing breasts, pulling and pinching her nipples.
Antonia’s head tilted back and lolled to the side as she picked up the pace. She sighed to the ceiling as she rocked against him. “Aiden...”
He fell into her rhythm, thrusting his hips to meet hers, while holding her in place. He was breathing fire as he slid in and out of her like a locomotive. He was teetering on the edge when she tensed around him. Antonia threw her head back and cried a long, guttural moan, her grip loosening on his chest. Her face contorted in exaltation as she shuddered. Aiden lost control and sped up his thrusts, running his hands all over her body.
The explosion of pleasure made him see stars. He roared as he pulled her to his chest, squeezing her close. Antonia wrapped her arms around his shoulders and choked back a sob. “Jesus,” she whispered against his chest.
“Yes,” he breathed. They remained interlocked for a moment, gasping for breath and clutching one another.
When she finally pulled herself from him, settling on her elbow, her grin was goofy. “How was that?”
Aiden looked down at his spent member. “Marvelous, Antonia.”
She beamed at him, a thin sheen of sweat covered her brow, her hair disheveled and gorgeous. Aiden thought that he loved her in that moment. “Confidence.”
He reached over and cupped her face in his palm. “Yes, m’dear. Confidence.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bryon closed the distance between them by backing her against the wall of the shower stall and easing a strong thigh between her legs. Augusta could feel the sweet tingling of arousal at the apex of her thighs and heaviness of her breasts as she watched Bryon slowly lather up his hands with soap. He never took his eyes off hers, even while placing his sudsy hands on her neck, his thumbs tracing the lines of her collarbones. They traveled slowly toward her breasts, massaging them gently. Her knees shook under the weight of her desire, as he deliberately pinched and flicked at her constricted nipples.
Blushing heat crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks as he slid his hands down the front of her flat belly. His hands traveled around her back, making tender circles before descending to the curve of her bottom. He cupped her there, applying the same slow ministrations, making her mad with pleasure. Her back arched off the wall, pushing her breasts closer to him. What was he waiting for? Her thoughts screamed for him to ravish her. Surely, he was running out of patience after their last interruption. But he did the opposite of what she demanded. He took his time, caring for each part of her body with the fortitude of a monk.
As he knelt before her, Augusta’s world slowed to a point where she could count the individual jets of water spray above his head. Bryon teased her unhurriedly, coursing his hands around the fronts of her thighs and down her legs. He refused to touch her where she wanted him the most. She nearly collapsed when he bent her leg to soap her foot. “Please,” she whimpered. Her womb quaked with want. His face was so close to her mound; she could feel his hot breath against her skin.
Antonia paused to release a shaky breath. My god, this is hot.
She was living the dream. There was a naked Irishman in her bed and she was writing compelling smut. The morning after exquisite lovemaking had inspired her to leave the bed and retrieve the tablet from her purse. While Aiden slept, she tapped out twelve more pages of Augusta and Bryon’s Bangkok tales.
“Are you back to work, Ms. Harper?” Aiden’s groggy voice murmured.
His hair was tousled from sleep as he squinted at her screen. “I had an idea,” she said, putting her tablet on the nightstand.
“Are they fucking yet?”
Antonia shrugged back under the duvet and faced him. “They’re nearly there,” she said with a coy smile.
Aiden rubbed his eyes. “You, my dear, are a purveyor of artistic porn. And I cannot wait for when you have a book signing line out the feckin’ door.”
“You think I’ll have a book signing?” she asked, snuggling against his warm body. Under the covers, he found her leg and sandwiched his powerful thighs around it. He draped an arm over her and pulled her into his chest.
“Of course you will, and I’ll be there changing out your ink pens when they die.”
Antonia chuckled against his chest. “How thoughtful of you.”
“I’ll even massage your tired little fingers at the end of the night.”
He dropped another hint about their lives outside of this cozy time in West Country. While those hints excited her, she was still unsure of what they were doing. Was this just a vacation fling? People had them all the time, but it didn’t always mean real relationships sprang from them. When it came to Aiden, she didn’t know if wishful thinking was an appropriate approach.
“I was contemplating our conversation on the boat.” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “You said something about coming back to Galway with me. I think you should. You could come to the conference on Thursday and see me in my element: Professor Aiden.”
Antonia gazed up at his goofy grin. He was beautiful, nearly perfect, and waiting on her to say something. The answer caught in her throat as she smiled and shook her head. This is moving too fast. It was only about a week since she ran away from Chicago to jump in bed with another man. “You want me to go to Galway?”
“If you’re worried about my mam, I can run interference. All you’d need to do is be your charming self and have tea with her, thirty minutes tops. I’m not above kicking me own dear mother and niece to a hotel,” he said with a chuckle.
“Sure, I’d like that,” she said, trying to join in his laughter, but panic seized her heart. Are we dating? He knows I have to go back to another country, right? How can he be so calm and lighthearted about something that’s only going to be lost to citizenship? Her mind was a flurry of questions that she couldn’t answer in that moment and that made her more anxious. Maybe she didn’t plan her meals, but Antonia didn’t like to be flapping in the wind when it came to other matters in her life. Aiden had a lot on his plate with preparing for the conference and writing book proposals. Clearly he underestimated how much time he’d need to do either of those things properly.
“What’s on your mind, little lady?” he asked peering down at her.
“Nothing,” Antonia lied. “I’m just thinking about the future.”
“About being on a fancy bestselling list?”
She nodded. “Right.”
“And perhaps what you’ll eat for breakfast?”
Antonia chuckled. “I’m starving.”
Aiden shifted to a seated position in bed and pushed his hair out of his face. “Because of all the sex, right?”
“Possibly,” she said as she ran her eyes over him.
Antonia enjoyed watching the muscles of his torso flex and ripple with each movement. His body was a treasure trove of many erotic secrets; from the muscular V at his pelvis to the hard-knotted calves slung over the white covers. When she held his hand, he seemed to marvel over her in the same manner. Turning her hand over by the wrist, Aiden kissed her palm and it sent a tremor of arousal through her belly. His emerald eyes flickered to hers, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. When will this feeling leave me? When will my body stop reacting to his touch like some ninny? Wordlessly, he ran his lips against her open palm before placing it on the center of his chest. The tuft of black hair brushed against her fingers in a promise of more to come. Antonia was ready to accept anything he had to offer, if it meant more baking experiments or canoe rides, she was game if it meant riding him again.
“Sometimes I can’t tell what’s on your mind,” he said, sliding her hand downward. “Other times, it appears quite evident that you’re contemplating filth.”
Her hand ran down his abs, his skin hot beneath her touch. With her eyes trained on his, she blushed. When will I stop blushing like this? “And right now?”
Her hand stopped at the hot stiff club under the covers.
“Pure filth,” he said.
It annoyed her when he was right. He read her thoughts and her body like no other man and it was unnerving how little she could keep from him. Under his intense gaze and soft caress, she came undone and couldn’t be put back together until they kissed. She couldn’t recall feeling this intensity with Derek. Even in the beginning, she was more nervous of messing up or not being the vixen he expected in bed. Anxiety made her brain tight as she performed pleasure for a man who barely asked if “it was good” for her.
“No, lass, back to filth,” he said.
Her mind snapped back to her fingers that encircled his cock. “How did you know?” she asked with a bemused grin.
“Your face is an open book that I can read well enough.” He cupped her cheek with one large hand. “It’s a book I want to lose myself in on a rainy afternoon.”
Another glimmer of tenderness that left her arrested yet full of hope. Antonia’s words died on her lips as she stared into his smiling eyes. Aiden made her tongue-tied and unable to think. She was clearly in lust, but there was something about him that made her want to stay in his arms, safe from the world and from the hurt Derek had caused. Antonia squeezed her hand in response.
“Oh, there she is,” he said with a chuckle.
* * *
While Aiden had his nose in his French Revolution romance novel, Antonia tapped her story on her tablet and jotted notes in her notebook. They sat quietly in the cafe where she’d originally planned to visit when she planned her Clifden trip. This was also their second time in a cafe after their fight in Letterfrack. As Antonia paused to drink coffee, she glanced at Aiden and felt they were in a better place. He shifted in his seat while flipping to the next page and furrowed his brow at a passage. She wanted to ask him where he was in the story, but thought against it. No need to pull him away from the pleasure of romance. Instead, Antonia smiled and let her gaze drift around the small cafe.
The eatery’s large windows faced the street, giving her a fascinating view of a new world. Tourists occasionally stopped in, some with large backpacks or with bored children in tow. An American family walked in with two children under fifteen who were attached to cellphones. The father, who appeared exhausted, asked the boy and girl what they wanted to drink several times before they were able to pry their eyes from their screens. Antonia shook her head, struggling to imagine her mother having had the resources to take her or Octavia abroad. It was impossible, but she knew Diane would’ve liked a place like Ireland. Her mother had grown up with a desire to be a stewardess, traveling in a cute uniform to far off cities like London and Paris. But like many women of her time, life happened, and she’d been forced to put her dreams on hold. With deferred dreams and a dead husband, Diane pushed Antonia and Octavia to perform what should have been seen as miracles. Leaving the Southside of Chicago and going to school and when finished with that, attending more school. Their mother’s pushing and nagging had created as much friction as it produced success.
Antonia felt a pang of guilt, as she remembered her last conversation with her mother. Their phone calls had always been infrequent, but she should have called Diane after she canceled the wedding. Instead, she let her sister handle it. If she was truly going to make changes in her life, Antonia needed to call her mother and have a long talk. Some of the conversation would have to include “you were right and I was wrong,” but she also wanted her mother to stop be
ing so critical when it came to most of her decision-making. The work ethic Diane had instilled in them was a double-edged sword. Antonia may have been a workhorse, but she generally made safe bets, taking care not to move too far out of her lane. Even within her lane, she doubted herself at every turn.
And now she was in Ireland. Writing a book. Fucking a handsome professor.
She’d traveled outside her lane for the first time in her life and managed to accomplish something huge. Instead of thinking about what was next on her list, Antonia finally felt like sitting back and basking.
Aiden gave a low whistle. “Claudette is being enlisted to be a feckin’ spy.”
Pulled from her reverie, Antonia glanced at him before chuckling. “It’s a good thing, I promise you.”
He dog-eared his page and sighed. “I don’t know why she doesn’t just live a simple life in the country with Jean-Paul. They could continue making wine and start a family.”
Antonia rolled her eyes. “Because no story is without conflict. You have to insert drama somewhere and you can’t do better than a war.”
Aiden raised a brow. “I know how literature works, love. But I feel something for these two.”
“You’re attached to Claudette and Jean-Paul?”
“I want them to be happy,” he said in an exasperated tone. “She’s already lost her da and Jean-Paul might not have status, but they deserve a bleedin’ chance, eh?”
She smiled. “They do and they will. The author just wants to put you through the wringer first.”
He picked up the book, flipping back to his spot. “Well, they feckin’ better.”
Fearing she might hurt his feelings, Antonia fought the urge to laugh at him and returned to people watching. Just outside the cafe window, her gaze settled on a tall man in his sixties who stopped for a smoke. She watched him turn his back to the wind and unpocket a small white slip of paper. In it, he tucked a sprinkle of tobacco and, with expert fingers, rolled it until he created a thin cigarette. The older man raised the cigarette to his mouth and sealed the paper with a lick. When he did this, Antonia narrowed her eyes.
