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“I need your words, Freya.” “Yes,” she says faintly. “Yes, you can kiss me.”
She’s so beautiful, wet and flushed.
“Did you wake up aching, Freya?” She bites her lip, then nods faintly.
I know my wife’s body,” I whisper. “I know when she needs to come.”
“Touch yourself, Freya.” My voice is gravel, and my dick juts up, hard and pulsing. My balls tighten harshly as I toy with her nipple. “Show me.”
Her hand slides down her body, stroking where she’s wet and flushed and so fucking pretty.
Freya’s a very sensual person, and yet she’s shy in bed. I figured out early on in our sex life that making her say what she wanted turned her on almost as much as when I gave it to her.
“You were…” She swallows. “You used your tongue.” I reward her with a deep teasing suck of her nipple. She bows off the bed. “Where?”
“Tell me exactly. Where was my tongue?” “My pussy,” she whispers, rubbing herself in tight circles.
“Is your pussy wet for me, Freya?” “Oh, God, yes.” Freya sighs shakily. “Aiden, I’m so clo—”
“Swear to God, Aiden,” she says. “Now is not the time for edging. I haven’t come in weeks.” “It’s always time for edging.” I nip her bottom lip with my teeth and chase it with a kiss, then begin to crawl my way down her body again. “You come so hard when I do it, Freya. You shake and cry, and it’s so fucking beautiful.”
Holding Freya’s eyes, I lower my mouth, flicking her swollen little nub softly with my tongue. “Better answer him,” I whisper, slipping two fingers inside her and stroking her steadily.
She shudders as she rides my hand. “I’m g-going to dunk you in the ocean for torturing me.” I still my fingers and feel her legs tremor around my touch before I resume pumping them into her. “And I’ll deserve it.”
I bring my mouth to her body once more and tongue her roughly. Burying her face in her pillow, she comes, crying out in relief.
“I think you came spectacularly. And if I had to piss you off a little to accomplish that, then I’ll pay that price.”
“Shouldn’t have done that,” Ren tells Viggo and Oliver. “Mocked the bride of Frankenstein.” Ryder snorts. Axel coughs. Mom wheezes. And Aiden scowls at Ren.
“Ugh,” Willa groans. “What’s happened to me? I just teared up.” She turns to Ryder. “Am I officially a softie now?”
I’m exactly seven seconds away from dragging us behind this tree and telling Dr. Dietrich her no-sex rule can go take a hike instead of us.
“Behaving yourself, children?” “I hope you choke,” Aiden mutters, dragging us past him.
“See. Hikes are sentimental for them. Because yours truly meddled and set them on the path to bliss.”
23 AIDEN Playlist: “Video Games,” Trixie Mattel
OHHHHH?????
Aiden and I are working on us. We’re committed to that.
My eyes open blearily and take her in. They widen. Because all she’s wearing is one of my undershirts. No bra. No panties. The fabric stretched tight across her tits.
“Freya, I want to do so many things to you right now, but I can’t.”
“You know how you run your fingers through my hair, massage my legs after a long day with patients? How you kiss me everywhere except those places, and it drives me wild?” I search her eyes. “Yes.” She smiles, luminous, dazzling in ...
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My hand wanders up her thigh, but her grip clamps down on it. Pointedly, she presses my uninjured wrist against the mattress. “Behave yourself,” she says briskly, swatting the side of my ass. A bolt of lust slams through me. “Jesus, Freya.”
“There’s a new boss in town, MacCormack. Now take a deep breath.”
“You just had your first nipple-induced orgasm, my friend. Welcome. It’s a wonderful world, isn’t it?”
And we have a marriage counseling appointment the next day with Dr. Dietrich. Who just might give us the green light for sex again.
“Should have thought of that before you sicced the Lil Wayne of parrots on me for a week straight. You know how disturbing it is to shower with a giant green parrot sitting on the counter nearby telling you ‘li-li-li-lick, lick that cream, make her scream’?”
“What you both just told me demonstrates that you’ve arrived at an important milestone in reconciliation: building back trust. You’ve made peace with the very unsettling truth that people who love each other can hurt each other deeply, often without meaning to.
“The only place you get to boss me is in that room at the end
Love’s true test, the measure of its strength, is its bravery to be honest, its willingness to face the hardest moments and say, Even though there’s nothing to be done, at least I have you.
“I just know that I want you. Only you, that’s all. Just like you want me.”
“But if I can’t…” “If you can’t?” I say quietly. “We’ll enjoy everything that can happen. Then we’ll figure out the rest together.”
Skin to skin feels like heaven, like coming home and the first sign of spring after a long, cold winter.
Aiden kisses my neck, my jaw, the corner of my mouth, the tip of my nose.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I can’t stop saying it.” I kiss him again and stare into hi...
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“This was what I touched myself to the thought of. Kissing you, feeling you, tasting you until you were begging to come.”
“I love teasing you, but tonight I can’t make you wait, Freya.” He plants a soft kiss to my hip, before one finger, then two ease inside.
There are men who go down on a woman because they know it gets her off. Then there are men who use their mouth like it’s worship, like every single moment that their face is buried between her thighs is their idea of heaven.
“Freya. Touch me. Touch me, please.”
“I want you,” he says, low and quiet against my ear. “I want you, wet and begging for it. I want you writhing on my cock.”
“Freya,” he whispers. With the grip of his uninjured hand, he lifts my leg and sets it on the built-in bench, rubbing me as he grinds against my hips. “Tell me.” “I want your cock,” I gasp,
“Take it, then,” he says, easing himself inside me, painstakingly slow. I claw at his shoulders, tortured, so ready for all of him.
“I feel you,” he whispers. “God, I feel you, Freya. Come, baby. Come all over me.”
I loved that the woman who’d walked in on me in that shower just a month ago, eyes cold, body closed off, a thousand unspoken words between us, felt safe to cry in my arms simply because she needed to.
The story gets hot. Fast. The guy finally, finally bares his soul to her, and holy shit, it’s explosive. Tongue. Taste. Thrust. Wet. Desire. Heat. It’s a sea of words that builds to a sensual tsunami, each line a concerted step toward such an incredibly subtle yet hot climax—in every sense of the word—that when it ends, my hand is white-knuckling the page, my breath tight and ragged.
This is… Madness. Really fucking magical madness. Holy shit, I’m reading romance forever.
Freya sighs in her sleep and rolls toward me, as if somehow she knows how much I need her.
