I bite my lip, as the ache grows, and desire floods my body.
He glances down at my hardened nipples and growls. “That’s it.”
Yanking my panties and shorts off, he nudges my legs open and takes me on the counter. He holds me tight, leaving his marks on me. I struggle to pull away, not wanting him to leave marks where Mom can see. Yet he keeps trying.
Growing impatient, Aiden wraps my hair around his hand and tugs my head to the side roughly and firmly. He bites and sucks possessively on the tender skin of my neck, his harsh stubble scratching me in the most pleasant way. His grunts and moans stoke a burning sensation in my stomach.
I want to argue with him, to pull away or push him away. But the way his fingers gently slide over my panties, stroking my clit, turns me into a speechless mess. Besides, my throat hurts too much to protest.
I glance in the mirror after he’s satisfied, grazing my fingers along the sore skin. My neck is dotted with markings.
He wraps his arms around my waist and growls into my ear, his voice earthy and husky. “You’ll be sorry if you put any makeup on that tonight.”
What is that about?
Aiden
∞∞∞
If it isn’t for the text Emma received after falling asleep in my arms, I wouldn’t be going to this fucking dinner party. But he needs to see that she’s spoken for.
The number wasn’t saved but the second I read it; I knew who it was.
‘Can’t wait to see you tomorrow night.’
I laugh. He has no idea whose girl he’s texting. It’s innocent enough but the next text made my blood boil.
‘Maybe you can stay over after dinner? I want to see you bite that lip again ;)’
I almost woke her up to interrogate her but she’s tired and I trust her. I still remember her whimpers and small screams last night as she slept, probably from a nightmare. I played with her hair as she calmed down.
I wait for Emma to come downstairs so we can head over to this idiot’s house. So help me, God, if she walks down in anything other than a very conservative dress, I’m telling her to change. Thankfully, she doesn’t, and she looks adorable.
As much as I want him to see her perfect skin ravished and purple with my marks, it wouldn’t be appropriate. I get it but, fuck, I need everyone to quit trying me. Besides, showing my marks means she’ll have to wear something with a low neckline and I’m not having that.
“Ready?” Emma asks. I shake my head discreetly. “We’ll be a few minutes, Mom.”
“I’ll meet you two there.” Pamela waves and walks out of the door.
I bring my thumb to her lips and wipe her pink lipstick off.
“Hey.” She exclaims but doesn’t argue, practically bouncing out of her shoes.
“Why are you so hyper?”
“Not hyper, nervous. Why didn’t we leave with my mom?”
I grab her hand and twirl her when she inches closer to me, giving her an appreciative once over. My necklace looks beautiful against her soft skin. I adjust it so that it’s more prominent. “Just wanted to study you.” I tell her, tilting my head down to plant a kiss on her cheek.
Opening the door for her, I head towards the car.
She shakes her head as she points across the street. “They live there.”
I laugh at the proximity of their houses. I wonder how many times he tried something with her, and she declined. Even though they lived so close together, he never got to do anything with her. She declined every guy that’s tried her entire life, until me. As though she was waiting for me all along.
We walk in and are immediately greeted by his smiling parents. All the while, my arm is firmly wrapped around her waist, staking my claim. I watch in satisfaction as Caleb’s eyes go wide with shock at the sight of me. We greet them back before heading for the dining room. Pamela finishes setting the table before the parents go to grab some wine in the kitchen.
The fucker approaches us then. “Hey, I’m Caleb.”
I pull my arm away from Em’s side for a moment to shake his hand and pull him close. He’s short and I have to lean down to his height.
Quietly, I say, “If you ever text my girl anything like that again, I will pound your face into the cement.”
It may be overkill, but the horrified look on his face tells me he understands the gravity of my words.
Or not.
∞∞∞
I place my hand gently on the soft skin of her neck and whisper, “Throat still sore baby?”
She turns crimson and giggles at me, swatting at me to stop.
I enjoy the awkward silence as the scrawny fuck wiggles around in his seat. Good, I make him uncomfortable. I spend dinner watching him as I talk business with his father. I see him sneak glances at my girl. Mine. She’s my fucking girl.
Didn’t I already threaten him?
I want to reach across the table and beat the fuck out of him. Grab his stupid blonde hair and slam his skull against the wooden table until he can’t see. So he can never look at her again.
Once the parents exit to the kitchen, I do the next best thing I can think of.
When I see him glance at her chest – even though her dress is a high neckline, her tits are so nice and perky they’re just out there – I slide my hand up her upper thigh. She bites her lip, exactly what I wanted. Emma has barely acknowledged him since we got here and, at this moment, she’s looking at me.
But I’m not looking at her just yet. I want to tell Caleb the reason Emma isn’t speaking much is because her throat is sore from my cock last night. I fucked her throat so hard that every time she speaks or coughs,
