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Obsessed(40)

By:R.J. Lewis


He squeezed my hand back and nodded. “Yeah, El, it is.”

“Then stop holding back with me. Give me all of you. I can’t wait any more, Aston. I want more with you. This kissing and touching me, it’s great, don’t get me wrong, and I’m like totally down with it anytime of day, but…I want to feel you lose yourself in me too. I feel like you’re my hooker.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “I’m not your hooker, Elise.”

“Then be with me.”

“You have to be sure about something like that.”

I laughed dryly. “Unlike you, I’ve been waiting eight long years for this shit, Aston, and the last two have been spent in bed, on the other side of this wall, daydreaming about this very thing. I’m cross-eyed with readiness already.”

He sighed, conflicted. “El…I’m different, you know that. I’m…not normal half the time. I don’t know if I can be good at that with you. It’s why I’ve taken it so slow already. I’m…fucking terrified. I don’t want to do it wrong. There’s no…math to it, you know?”

I smiled, stroking his hand lightly. “There’s no numbers to making love, Aston. It comes naturally. If you want, we can watch a couple pornos. I can scream for you and moan obnoxiously loud when you touch me on the arm.”

“El –”

“That was a joke. Let’s just…try. Besides, you’ve learned a lot about me by now, and I have absolutely no complaints.”

“God, you’re weird.”

“We’re both weird.”

He smiled softly, licking his lip as he leaned over to his night table and opened the drawer. He pulled something out and laid it between us. I stared down at it as he looked at me, waiting for my reaction. It took me a moment to understand what I was staring at.

A condom.

I looked straight up at Aston, my eyes wide, my heart picking up. This wasn’t funny anymore.

“When did you buy those?” I asked.

He bit his lip, thoughtfully. “I’ve had them for a while. Since we…started our thing. Just in case.”

I nodded, and nerves ran through me at lightning speed. I hadn’t even thought of protection. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Are you okay? You look like you’re panicking.”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m not.”

“We don’t have to do anything, Elise –”

“Aston,” I interrupted sharply.

“What?”

“Just kiss me.”

He moved closer to me, leaned down and brushed his lips to mine. “Elise,” he whispered, desperately, “I love you. I just want you to know that before we keep going.”

The words scorched me. I took an unsteady breath and ran my hands up his hard chest. He didn’t know how long I’d been waiting for that. He didn’t know how…oh, how unbelievably happy those words made me. I would have said it back, but…I was too choked up. He didn’t wait for me either, he dipped his head lower and kissed me again.

It started slow but heated up very quickly. This kiss was different than before. Aston wasn’t holding back as he climbed back on the bed and over me. He ran his hands down the side of my body, slipping them under my shirt. There was urgency in him. His hands were unsteady, his chest pressed against mine. I could feel his heart beating, hard and fast as he brought my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor.

He devoured my mouth, tasting me. I melted against him, meeting his tongue with mine stroke for stroke. He growled at the feeling, tightening his hand in my hair while his other trailed down my body. His palm stopped at my breast, and he stroked it through my tank top and squeezed. I writhed against him, encouraging him to continue, when he broke away from my mouth, panting.

He didn’t stop like I thought he might. He resumed his kisses, pressing his wet lips down my throat. I ran a hand through his hair as he continued moving down my body. I felt him everywhere. I hadn’t worn a bra under my shirt. My breasts were only small, but the way Aston paused and stared at them, lust in his eyes, I felt like the sexiest woman alive.

Charged and hungry, he grabbed my pj bottoms and underwear at the same time and pulled them down hastily. He didn’t spare a moment discarding them, and then he pushed up on his knees and looked down at me. At every freaking inch of me, exposed.

“Do you know how many hours I’ve spent imagining you naked?” he asked, softly. “I used to just stare at you, at the clothes you wore, and in my head I’d undress you. Then I’d put your clothes back on and start all over again.”