Circling her entrance with my middle finger, one of my eyebrows lifts. “I think I already have.”
Abandoning her tight little hole, I move back up and find her swollen clit, pinching it between two fingers. She jerks into it, and I fit our upper halves together again, swallowing her ensuing moan.
“We’re coming back to my questions,” I tell her between sloppy kisses, unable to tear myself away as she slowly undulates below me. “But first…”
Breaking away with a pained groan, I slink to my knees on the floor and pull her to the edge of the sofa, settling my shoulders between her legs. I reach up to push her robe farther apart, but her hands slap over mine, stopping me.
“Riley.” My voice is a growl, primal and irritated that she keeps denying me. “We’re doing it right this time, or not at all.”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and she shifts, clearly trying to get away. I slip my arms under her, clamping my palms down on the insides of her thighs, pinning her in place.
“Please,” she whines, pinching her eyes shut, her hands coming to tug at the robe. I yank harder, and she chokes on a wail. “It’s fucking embarrassing.”
The air expels from my lungs like I’ve just been run over by a military tank and left flattened.
“What’s embarrassing? Your scars?”
She lets go of the robe, covering her face. “Yes. They’re disgusting, and I don’t want you to see.”
A beat of silence passes between us.
“Riley, I don’t give a shit about your scars.”
“How can you not?” Her voice breaks, emotion making it so thick that I find it difficult to keep breathing. “I hate them. Every time I look in the mirror, they’re all I see. These big, ugly flaws that I didn’t always have, and then one day, boom. I’m a freak. Everyone pretends, you know? They act like I don’t have these nasty reminders marking me. Like they don’t see them, and they don’t make a difference in how they look at me, but they do.”
Her hands come to her mouth, touching the scar there, and she continues shattering.
“I can’t even complain about them because so many people have it worse, and I should just be happy to be fully functioning. Alive. I should be happy to be alive.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, crawling out from between her legs to drag her down to the floor with me. She comes willingly, burying her tears in my chest.
“I’m not,” she sobs, and all I can do is stroke her hair, guilt and shame settling like a slab of broken concrete on top of my heart. “I’m not happy I’m alive. I’m not proud of my trauma, or the person it made me. It hurts, and I hate it.”
The concrete gets heavier with each admission, until the organ is crushed completely, its beats slowly dwindling to a halt.
Pulling back, Riley fists my shirt, anger and pain dancing in her baby blues.
They glisten, hopelessly anguished, and she just shakes her head back and forth. She sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve, and then she shifts, pushing me so my back rests against the sofa.
Widening her legs, she moves to straddle me, and I palm her hips, holding her still.
“Riley,” I breathe, surprised at the way she resists, bearing down in spite of my iron grip. “I don’t want to do this.”
“I like it better when you call me pretty girl,” she says, encircling my wrists, trying to move them. “And yes, you do want this. I can feel how badly.”
Gritting my teeth as her bare cunt makes contact with my erection, I dig my fingernails into her. “I don’t want you like this.”
“Not even if I say please?”
She bats her lashes, rubbing herself over me, and fuck, when she slides back, I see where she’s soaking my sweats. My head lolls, my eyes rolling as she grinds hard, sending fragments of exhilaration down my spine.
The grip on her hips falters, and she seizes the opportunity, bringing my hands up to cup her breasts beneath her robe. On instinct, my head snaps back up and my fingers curl around them, squeezing the perfect handfuls.
“Please, Aiden. Make me forget.”
Without missing a beat, she continues dry humping me, face wet from her tears and flushed with desire.
She looks so painfully perfect, so agonizingly tempting, that I can’t hold back.
Fuck it, maybe this is how I’ll ruin her.
I’m not even a hundred-percent sure what she’s asking me to help eliminate from her mind, but fuck if I don’t want to destroy everything she’s afraid of until it’s just me.
Leaning forward, I ignore the nagging thought about the fact that I’m losing control; dipping my head to one tit, I flick my tongue against the pebbled peak, pressing my fingers into the base of her spine.
Her movements stutter, a low moan peeling out of her, and I open my mouth wide, pulling her between my lips.
“Oh, god,” she exhales, ecstasy coating her words.
I suck harder, laving around the distended nipple. She reaches forward, fumbling for my dick; yanking at my sweats, she manages to tug the waistband down enough to free me, and tucks the pants under my balls.
My cock stands at attention, deep red and angry, and she licks her lips as she stares at it.
Her hand comes out, tentatively wrapping around the shaft, fingers barely touching.
She starts moving, short bursts up and down, and I bite the inside of my cheek until the taste of copper floods my mouth.
“Can you, um, show me what you want me to do?”
I curl my fingers around hers, increasing her pressure, but then bat her hand away. “Some other time. Right now, I want to fuck you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
Taking her hips in my hands again, I yank her up my lap, lining her up with my cock as it lies against my abs. She sucks in a sharp breath as her lips spread around me, and I guide her over it in long, smooth strokes.
“Does that feel good, pretty girl?”
Her stomach flexes, in and out, as she moves. “So good.”
“I want you to look at it,” I say, sliding a hand up to fist the back of her hair, tilting her chin down. “Look at what’s gonna be inside you soon. Get it nice and wet, so it pushes right in that sweet cunt of yours.”