“I didn’t become like Jonathan, I chose to be like him. People like Alicia are insignificant. One has to be the king to survive.”
For some reason, it doesn’t feel like he’s ridiculing his mother. If anything, he sounds sad when he says her name.
I cradle his cheeks with both my palms and give him a tentative smile. “It’s okay if you miss her.”
“I don’t.”
“I miss my mum, my dad, and Eli. I don’t even remember them, but I miss them. I think I’ve always missed them, that’s why I was having those nightmares. It’s like a punishment for forgetting about them.”
He watches me intently as if I’m about to grow a head. Or two.
Tears fill my eyes as that grief hits me out of nowhere.
I can’t fight it even if I want to.
“It’s weird, right?”
He remains poker-faced, but his hand reaches out to stroke a stray strand of hair off my face.
“It’s not weird to miss people.” He twirls a strand between his fingers. “I think I missed you, too, sometimes.”
Before I can make out the meaning behind his words, his lips press to mine with a tenderness that startles the shit out of me.
Aiden doesn’t do soft. He’s all rugged and rough.
He wraps a hand around my nape and pulls me closer. I willingly open when he probes my lips. He kisses me slowly, too slowly, as if he’s re-learning me.
As if he lost me and finally found me.
I moan in his mouth as he cups my breast through the bathrobe. My nipples harden and strain against the cloth.
He traces a finger up and down my scar as if he’s engraving it to memory.
I close my eyes and surrender to his onslaught. There’s nothing more crushing and levitating as being kissed by Aiden.
No. I’m not only being kissed by Aiden.
I’m being worshipped.
He’s taking my world and reshaping it without my permission.
He doesn’t break the kiss as he reaches between us and unbuckles his belt.
In no time, he’s nudging at my entrance, and slowly, too slowly thrusts inside me.
I’m too wet, but he still finds resistance because of his size.
His groan matches my own as he pulls the slightest bit from my mouth to stare at my face.
Thump, thump, thump.
I place my hand against his heart. My lips fall open at the maddening heartbeat under my fingertips.
His thrusts are slow and almost gentle, like that first time when he waited for me to get used to him.
Is he also waiting for me to get used to him now?
“I missed you, sweetheart,” he rasps against my lips.