My mouth snaps shut when I open my bathroom door and see Aro sitting on my bed.
I know I locked the door, meaning this asshole had to pick the fucking lock to get in here.
The man doesn’t waste a second to stand and cross the room to me.
Against my better judgment, I don’t pull away when his hand cups my jaw. I don’t knee him in the nuts when he leans closer.
No, only smart women react that way when their private space has been infiltrated.
If I’ve discovered anything over the last several months, it’s that I’m not as smart as I once led myself to believe.
I know this is going to be disastrous the second his lips brush mine, and I should be offended when he grips a handful of my hair.
He’s never been this rough with me before, but although I try to convince myself I hate it, my body responds the same way it would if he swiped his tongue between my thighs.
He groans in satisfaction, his breath warm against my lips at my response to him.
A million reasons filter through my head as to why he may be doing this, but I know none of them matter. What counts is why I plan to go through with it rather than shove him away and tell him to get lost.
He might have had the right idea when he came to my room that night in the rental house. He knew he was putting an end to things right after we were done. At that moment in time, he knew it would be our last time. He may be regretting it now, but I wasn’t prepared for that chapter of my life to come to a close.
He managed to take all the control of the situation, and I’ve been bitter about it since. Now is the time for me to take back my power.
When he presses his lips to mine, I accept his tongue the second he brushes it across my lower lip.
“Mmm,” I moan, unable to control myself.
He smiles against my lips, and despite me knowing it’s probably a victory he always thought he’d have, my giving in to him, I still can’t stop.
My body is humming with need. I have no shame with how soaked I am for him, how my body responds in a carnal manner when it comes to him.
I try to convince myself that this one last time is what I need to put him in my past, but I’m not delusional. What I am is unable to tell him no because my clenching core is demanding this from me.
“Jesus, you make me so fucking hard,” he whispers as his fingers tease one nipple.
His hand moves long before I’m ready, my whimper once again tugging up the corners of his mouth as he presses it against my throat.
“Aro, I—”
He silences me with another kiss, and every thought becomes of him.
He steps back, patiently letting me pull his t-shirt over his head, his eyes locked on my heavy breasts.
Before I can reach for the zipper on his jeans, he’s guiding me down to the bed, lowering himself to the floor between my legs.
Our eyes are locked on each other, my mouth falling open when I realize his intent.
“Josh,” I pant, my hand coming up to meet his head but putting in no real effort to stop him.
He has a look of ecstasy on his face when he takes a long swipe of his tongue up the center of me.
My legs are already shaking, my fingers twisting in his hair.
I don’t have to praise him. He has to know what he’s doing to me from my responses, but I can’t help the pleas that escape my lips. I almost feel ashamed for how easily he makes me come on his mouth, but the grin on his face is filled with pride when he smiles up at me before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. My face heats with a hint of embarrassment, but I won’t apologize for it.
It becomes clear how much effort he’s put into his PT when he runs his arm behind my back and repositions me high on the bed.
At some point during my orgasm, he lost his jeans and boots, and it’s a tribute to how out of it this man makes me feel.
He stares down at me as if he’s looking for something in my eyes when he rolls his hips, the action pressing the head of his cock against my sensitive clit.
I curl my fingers into his back, wanting him to hurry and take his time all at once.
“Please,” I beg when it seems like he’s quite content to rub himself against me.
I feel shame in that moment, hatred for myself swimming through my veins.
I shouldn’t need him. I should have more control over my body.