Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
His sleeveless workout shirt sticks to his torso, outlining the shape of his muscles. “Tss-tss-tss,” he blows out air with each punch, the punching bag trembling like it’s about to fall off the bracket.
“Thanks for letting Dimitri and Mikhail stay here.”
“It’s the safest place for them,” Aiden replies.
“I’m just shocked you care if they’re safe.”
“They’re your brothers, and …” He lets his gloved hands drop, staring at me as I bend down and touch my toes, then work my hands to the backs of my legs to get an even deeper stretch. “They want the best for you. That’s all any of us want.”
“I want the best for you, too,” I murmur, wondering if I’m being too subtle.
I want to say, Last night, I wish we’d taken it further, but there’s no way I’d be able to force those words out. I’d feel like the biggest dork ever.
“By being safe, you’re giving me that,” he says.
“Dimitri told me what you did.”
After a pause, Aiden says, “That prick had no right to threaten you. Nobody does. He’s lucky he didn’t get worse. I almost hope he doesn’t agree to your brothers’ terms.”
“Why?”
Aiden walks across the gym, making me conscious that the door is closed. It’s just us in here. Nobody can see. The apartment is so big that nobody can probably hear, either.
“Because then I get to really make him pay,” Aiden growls, “for daring to even think about hurting you. Nobody, Ania, nobody gets to do that. I won’t fucking stand for it.”
I almost say something like, That’s what stepbrothers are for, but then I quickly get rid of the idea of saying that. He really means it; I can tell. If I said that, I’d ruin the moment. Somehow, that seems like such a horrible thing to do. Somehow, I want to make every moment with us special.
This time, when I lean in, I don’t let myself hesitate. I don’t give myself time to doubt or second guess. I don’t wonder if I’ll make a fool of myself or if he thinks I will look silly. I just lean in and press my lips against his.
He makes the hottest groaning noise, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me up. I press against him, and it’s like all the sleepwalking lust spills out. It’s like the version of me only he’s seen takes control. I wrap my legs around him, and he carries me across the room, putting me down on a weightlifting bench.
He pushes down against me, letting me feel his heat and his sweat, our bodies both getting so hot. Kneeling next to the bench, he slides his hand up my leg. Nerves try to strangle and ruin the moment.
“I want you, too,” I murmur. “I want to make you feel good.”
“This makes me feel good,” he groans, his touch tickling across my legs, teasing closer and closer to my sex. Last night, the pleasure took me by surprise. I haven’t told him this, but that was my first orgasm ever. Yet now, it’s even more intense with all the anticipation added to it.
I slide off the bench, joining him on the padded floor. He catches me and lets me lie on top of him. I end up straddling him, my legs on either side of his body, letting me feel his lust pushing through his pants and right against me. His manhood is so hard, and he feels big. He feels so big that I’m honestly not even sure if I’ll …
But why think like that? Why have a defeated attitude before we even start?
“Is this okay?” I murmur, rocking up and down on top of him, my hands on his chest, our clothes separating us. I can feel the passion even through them.
“Hmm,” he groans, taking my hips in his hands, moving in time with me.
“Is it enough for you?”
“Everything with you is enough,” he snarls. “This has to be at your pace, Ania, or I’ll never be able to live with myself. I’m taking advantage as it is.”
“Maybe I’m the one taking advantage,” I say, guiding his hands to my shirt, then under my shirt. Goosebumps try to prick me, like a nervous signal telling me to stop, but I refuse to listen.
“Oh, fuck,” he says fiercely as he tickles over my belly and up to my breasts. “Your nipples feel so damn horny.”
I laugh, but it comes out more like a moan. “Nipples can be horny?”
“You tell me.”
He moves his fingers over my nipples, making me feel … I don’t even know. It’s different from last night when he was rubbing me. This is new and wildly interesting. It’s like there are two points of pleasure in my chest expanding, teasing, and warmth blossoming through my body.
Our bodies move together, his manhood grinding against me over and over, his hips driving up as though he wishes there was nothing between us—just our bodies, the wetness, and the heat.