"Aaron..." My voice comes out hoarser from crying and screaming. He is still holding me against him, pressed against the soft mattress, his breathing fanning against my ear.
I gulp, feeling how close we are, how tightly we are wrapped around each other like a vine. My legs tangled with his, his heart beating in the same rhythm as mine.
Aaron pulls back enough for our eyes to meet; he brushes off a trail of tears from my eyes, brushing his knuckles against my cheekbone.
"Yes, Princess." His voice is soft and soothing; it makes my lips wobble with the intense desire to lean into the softness he is giving me without any condition.
I part my lips and let out a soft breath. "Why do you call me princess?"
The corner of his lips curls up into a subtle smile, which is almost negligible in others' eyes, but it adds more intimate detail to his facial expression.
"Because you deserve to be treated like a princess," his voice drops slightly low as he brushes his nose against mine, making my breathing shudder.
"Because even the strongest woman needs someone to show her that she can be treated with softness and tenderness."
My eyes sting again, blurry from unshed tears, which he kisses away with great care even before they fall from my eyes.
My eyes flutter closed under the softness of his pink lips—two kisses on my left eye, two kisses on my right eye.
There is something entirely intimate and tender about this moment where he is rubbing my rib and cupping the back of my head while kissing away the scars I have always been too scared to show.
I whisper, my voice comes out heavy with uncertainty and pain, "Aaron... I told you that morning... I—"
"I know," and he kisses my right cheekbone, "and I don't care."
My eyes widen, trying to find a trace of humor in his eyes, yet his gaze is full of certainty and a kind of seriousness I have never seen in someone's gaze directed to me.
Aaron brushes his nose against mine, making my body relax. I have always had a high sense of nerves all my life, yet around this man...
I am nervous.
But I am not freaking out... I am not trying to hide.
"I don't care, Princess. You can deny whatever happened between us that night was a mistake; you can say I am just being a fool or some obnoxious bastard who is ignoring your words and reading your eyes," he pauses.
I part my lips to say something, but he places his lips on mine again; this time it's just resting... just tasting my lips from the tip of his tongue.
And if it doesn't melt a girl, I don't know what else would.
"You are saying one thing, but your eyes are betraying your words," he mumbles against my lips.
Fuck!
My heart skips a beat realizing how he always stares into my eyes more than anywhere else, like he is trying to unfold some mystery.
His hand from the back of my head slips to my neck, rubbing his thumb on my collarbone possessively. I gasp softly, feeling my entire body alive and sensitive.
"You are reading my eyes wrong then," I say breathlessly, his thumb keeping drawing closer and closer to my throat with deliberate slowness.
My body reacts faster than my mind; my knees buckle up around his waist.
He presses his obvious bulge right against my hip, making me arch my back and close my eyes instinctively.
"You should learn how to control your body then," he sneers, pridefully at how he is making me shudder and tremble slightly just from rubbing his hardness against my pussy through my trousers and panties.
I whimper in the sudden wave of tingly pleasure that runs through my body like electricity.
All my previous mental breakdowns, tears, screams, and agony start blurring against his slow, intentional touches.
"I can't control how my body reacts to... ghhh." I can't even finish my words when Aaron starts kissing my throat, his wet, warm tongue licking my throat till the left side of my jaw is getting sucked between his lips and teeth, making me moan unconsciously.
He chuckles, low and deep, right under my ear, making my stomach do those jumps that make me feel sixteen instead of twenty-five.
"In that case, you should train your body."
I gasp, feeling his hand on my waist slipping under my shirt, his cold, big, rough palm rubbing my stomach.
It's insane. It's fucking insane how wet I am from all these things and how I want him to fuck me again.
"Princess, you want me." His breathy whisper in that dangerous, deep voice makes me clutch his biceps and lift my hip. Taking advantage of that, he slips his hand inside my trousers and gives my butt a tight squeeze, making me moan in his neck.
How can one man just crash-land in my life and claim me so dangerously, and I just let him against my best judgement?
"You are delusional," I retort, but he just laughs, and God!!
That laugh is making me lose my control; he squeezes my butt a bit tighter while sucking my neck, clearly leaving hickeys like last time.
"You aren't pushing me away," he grins, satisfied.
I whimper, lifting my hip for more friction against his bulge as he stops moving. "You are all over me."
"You are lifting your hip and spreading your legs for me."
My eyes snap open, realizing...
He is right!
I have indeed spread my legs; I look down, and he looks at me from my neck, eyes twinkling in mischief, which makes me want to kiss and strangle him at the same time.
"You are crazy!" I whisper-shout, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.
"Oh, Princess! I have been crazy for you from day one, and I plan to stay crazy for you for eternity."
I scoff, my hand moves to the back of his head, scratching his scalp, feeling soft raven hair brushing my fingers like silk.
"All big talk."
"Why not give this big talk a chance?" he says, resting his cheek on my chest, basically purring in my chest like some cat as I scratch the back of his head.
"As if I will fall for your pretty face," I say sternly but uselessly.
He smiles, bright and all boyish, contrary to everything impure and forbidden going on between us.
"So, you think I have a pretty face?" He grins satisfied, like some schoolboy getting a compliment from his crush.
I gasp in disbelief, batting my eyes, trying to come up with something that makes me sound smarter, but nothing comes out.
"Jerk!" "If I can have yours, I won't mind being called a buffoon either."
I blink my eyes a few times, and he just nods innocently.
And what follows is a laugh that comes from the deep of my stomach.
Loud, unfiltered, and fearless.
I throw my head back, shaking my eyes, and he grins in my chest, mumbling, "Oh God! This girl can kill me, and I would die happily."
"You are high on morphine or cocaine." I try to push him off me, but he squeezes my hips, lifting his head, looking into my eyes, dreadfully serious, with a smile dancing on his lips.
"You are the only drug that can get me high."
And...
My heart squeezes in the best possible way.