She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her eyes were wide on his, her mouth open a little, like maybe she needed it that way just to breathe. Her expression said she wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he was up to.
Which was just as well, since what he was up to was no good. He cupped her breasts and bent his head to them.
She seemed to melt then, and he liked to think that if he didn’t have such a grip on her she’d have glided into a boneless heap at the bottom of the hot tub.
But he did have her.
He knew he always would.
“What if someone comes?” she whispered.
“No one’s coming but you.” And then he slid his hand between her legs, finding her hot and slick and ready. “God, Lily.”
“Aidan—”
“No one’s home tonight,” he promised. “By some miracle even Kenna’s out at a movie.”
When she closed her eyes, swallowed hard and then moaned her pleasure, he knew he had her. He played his fingers over her and she sighed again, completely relaxing into his touch. Trusting. Pliant. “You want this,” he murmured.
“I want you,” she agreed. “Always have.”
It wasn’t a declaration of love, not even close, so why did it feel like one? He kissed her again, this kiss intense and lingering.
She whispered against his lips soundlessly, but he heard her. Felt her.
“Now. Please.”
Yes. Now. He lifted her to the edge of the tub. Water splashed as he put hands on her thighs and gently nudged them wide, making himself at home in between.
The only light came from the stars and crescent moon but it was enough to see clearly. She looked beautiful. He wanted this to last all night, but all his good intentions slipped when she whispered his name again, husky, needy. Hungry.
Hungry for him, thank God.
He kissed a slow trail down her body, lingering over her breasts. He took his time, rasping his work-roughened fingers over her quivering flesh, then his mouth as her hips began to rock, silently asking him for more, which he gladly gave. For long moments the only sounds were the night crickets, the gentle slosh of the water, and her soft sighs of pleasure that drove him wild. Her teeth were gritted, her lips parted, her breath coming in little gasps. “Aidan— I’m going to—”
“Come,” he said against her. “I want to watch you.”
She shuddered around him, and his own body vibrated with the need to let go right along with her. Lifting her in his arms, he turned and sank into the water, sitting with his back to the tile.
Her face was pressed into the curve of his shoulder as she worked at catching her breath. He stroked her body, bringing her down slowly. When she stirred and kissed his throat, and then bit him lightly, he knew he was in trouble.
And sure enough she shifted, humming her pleasure deep in her throat at finding him hard as a rock. Raising her face to his she straddled him—but he stopped her.
“Not here,” he said, his voice nearly unrecognizable in its gravelly roughness, even to himself. He tried to hold her still, but that was an impossible feat and every single oscillation of those sexy hips threatened to get him off right then and there.
“Why not?” she asked, cupping his face, running her mouth over his jaw, his ear, back to his mouth, his throat, everywhere she could reach. “You did me. Now I want to do you.”
Yeah, she was going to be the death of him. “Condom,” he managed to grate out. “I don’t have one out here.”
Her eyes met his. “I’m on the pill. I tried to tell you last time, but I could barely think much less speak. You don’t need a condom, Aidan. I’ve never not used one, but I trust you.”
This last line was said just as the jets kicked off, so her words echoed louder than the others into the air and right into his heart.
I trust you.
How was he supposed to keep things light and easy and not scary for her when she said things like that to him? He had no idea what he’d done to inspire her trust, but he was grateful, and aroused as he’d ever been. He’d never had sex without a condom, either, had never even thought about it, but he didn’t want a condom with Lily. He wanted nothing between them.
She kissed him this time as she raised up on her knees and sank down on him, taking him deep, so deep that his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.
Then she whimpered, her fingers digging into his biceps and he held her hips still. “Did I hurt you?”
“No— Please,” she whispered, undulating with the need for more. “Aidan, please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He could barely get the words out, he was holding on by a thread.
“You’re not … Don’t stop. Oh, God, just don’t stop.” She made another little orbit with her hips and Aidan lost whatever little bit of restraint he had. Her arms were around his neck, tight enough to suffocate him, and he didn’t care. Holding on, he began to move with her.
She gasped his name—he fucking loved that—and smiled at him. He loved that, too, and in less than two seconds he was breathing like a dying man. And he was dying. Of pleasure. He ran every day in full gear. He shouldn’t be out of breath from having a woman ride him like a bronco.