By the time Cole had dealt with everything and shown him how to find the bathroom, being alone with Aiden felt incredibly significant somehow. Almost too much. Cole had always loved her mom’s room. It had been storage space when they first arrived, but her mother had done it up. It was right at the back of the house, in the pointy bit. The bed was tucked under the eaves, and her mother had strung up a bunch of fairy lights so it felt like lying under a canopy of electric stars. It was Cole’s favorite place to read, tucked under the handmade quilt and propped up on the jewel-colored throw pillows, the sea whispering to her just on the edge of hearing. It had seemed pretty magical at the time, but with Aiden standing there – hunching a little to avoid banging his head on the ceiling and looking as if he’d been airbrushed in from an issue of GQ – it seemed more kind of…shabby. Quaint, if one were feeling generous. And then he pulled his jumper over his head, and Cole stopped worrying
Laughing, Cole kicked out playfully with her foot, which made him laugh, too, and drag her down the bed. They tussled as quietly as they could, muffling giggles in each other’s skin, until they were just embracing, tangled up together. Aiden’s hands swept up her spine, bringing heat and a hint of possession. And Cole gasped, shamelessly eager to be touched and claimed. Full of this unexpected gratitude. She hadn’t realized just how empty he’d left her. How much she’d ached for roughness and for tenderness and for him. “Cole,” he whispered. “My Cole.” He brushed the back of her neck. She didn’t even know she was sensitive there but she half thought she could feel the whorls in his fingertips. Sensation spilled over her skin like a river breaking its banks, pretty much dissolving her into squirms and whimpers. “Please, oh please.” She hardly knew what she was begging for. But Aiden did, sitting up and gathering her into his lap, before covering her mouth with his. Such a good
******Part II************* Cole had had a totally crazy dream. She dreamed that she met a billionaire called Aiden Crux and he kind of liked her. Well, liked her enough to put her up in a ludicrously expensive London flat but not enough to trust her, talk to her, or spend any time with her. It was a sufficiently self-esteem-tanking level of liking that Cole ended up running back to her family’s place in Scotland. But, it was also a sufficiently something level of liking that he wound up following her. And telling her a bunch of things which made her realize that not only did her level-of-liking scale need serious recalibration, but she liked him enough to give it another go. Except, oh wait, that wasn’t a dream. It had really happened. And there was Aiden himself, tucked into the corner where the bed met the window, watching the distant sea. He was pale in the cool, blue-tinted morning and a little tousled—that one wayward lock of his fallen free again. The
Despite their eagerness, it actually took a while to get on the road because Cole’s mother made them breakfast. And sex was all very well but pancakes. Aiden went for the lightest sprinkling of sugar and a twist of lemon juice, while Cole went for syrup, cream, strawberries, chocolate, and everything. She couldn’t help but notice the way he was watching her lips. It was possible they were a little bit glisteny and sticky. He was looking all tormented by the time she was chasing the last swirl of syrup from her plate with a fingertip, and she seriously hoped she was going to pay for this later. It didn't take her too long to pack on account of the fact she’d been living out of her suitcase since she got home. Then they said their goodbyes to her folks and headed to his car. It was this silver hatchback thing, very “family of four on a day trip,” unlike his fleet of billionairemobiles. Aiden must have noticed Cole’s amusement because he explained somewha
Cole whispered, “Yes.” The moment she said it, she knew she meant it. Suddenly, she found herself thinking about the story of Sir Gawain and Lady Ragnelle. Not that she was hideously cursed. Or that they were being forced into matrimony because the King of England had made a deeply spurious promise to some random woman he met in the woods. But still. Aiden had given her her sovereynté. And now she was ready to surrender it to him. Cole’s hands were unsexily damp as she peeled off her T-shirt. It was only when she was wriggling her jeans down that she remembered shoes were a thing she was wearing. So she had to stop, with everything bunched around her thighs, and hop about for a bit. By the time she was finally done, she was all warm and flustered and pretty much the opposite of attractive. And so…so naked. It shouldn't have been a big deal. Aiden had seen her before—he’d fucked her for fuck’s sake, a bunch of times—but it had never felt like this. As if
“H-holy shit,” Cole thought to herself. She tried to imagine what else he could do to her—but her brain was dopamine dazed and came up blank. He withdrew and his touch became soothing again, which she was pretty sure she didn’t want at all. “We can stop at any time. You’ve already given me more than—” “No.” Cole flattened her forearms to the sofa and shoved her hips up. “Take it all. Take everything.” For a moment, he was so still she thought he was going to say no or something. But then he shifted his grip from her neck, laying his palm flat across her shoulders in a way that felt both ominous and reassuring. And when he hit her this time, it hurt in such a real way that she heard herself say “Ow” in a ridiculously surprised tone of voice. It would have been funny—pain hurts, no shit Sherlock—but it was like his hand had knocked everything out of her except the capacity to respond. A few strikes later and even “ow” was gone. Instead, these breathy c
She didn’t really have breath or brain to reply but her answer was everywhere: in the pulse that beat for him and the body that yielded to him and the pain she’d borne for him. Hers hers hers hers hers.Sweat was slicking down her, gathering in the creases of her groin and behind her knees. And she was probably going to have to take up yoga again or do something about her core strength because—as much as her pussy was loving the adventure—the pace was getting punishing. But then Aiden gave this harsh and shattered cry, his hands dragging her down and pinning her in place, his cock so deep in her it felt practically embedded. She screamed, her clit launching its own little hallelujah chorus as Aiden's teeth plunged into the bit where her neck met her shoulder. It was the aggression that undid her—seeing him so lost to it, so utterly out of control—the final riff in her sex-rock anthem of rapture. Next thing she knew was a full-body-shaking, mind-obli
Cole wasn’t really aware of being awake or not awake, but she guessed she must have been not-awake because she was woken up by Aiden whispering to her: “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we’ll be landing soon.” She whimpered. “Do we have to? Can’t we live here forever?” “On the plane?” “Yes.” She curled into him stubbornly. “We can spend all our time having sex and cuddling.” “We can also do those things on the ground. And with a smaller carbon footprint.” It should have been reassuring—well, it was reassuring, since she hadn’t seriously expected they’d become joint founders of a flying and fucking commune—but she was feeling fragile. In a way that was completely unlike the raw vulnerability of writhing naked and sobbing over Aiden’s knee, and a lot less fun. “Cole? What’s the matter? You haven’t…haven’t changed your mind, have you?” He sounded so genuinely anxious that she came in immediately with a “No.” And, anyway, it was true.Well. Mostly.