I pull out slowly but then push back in as deep and hard as possible. She yelps and arches her back, digging her nails into my skin. "What did I say about calling me that?" I taunt. "I thought I warned you about the consequences."
"I figured the risk was worth it."
Her lips tilt up in a cocky grin, and I know it's a lost cause. She wraps her legs around my waist as I kiss along her jaw and wrap my hand in her hair. She rocks her hips with mine controlling the pace and showing me exactly how she wants it. I fucking love that. I love that she likes to be in control and isn't afraid to take over.
I roll to my back, putting her more in control. Her hands are pressed into my chest as she rides me, her head thrown back as she moans and pants. I squeeze my hands around her hips, keeping up with her pace now. I watch as her tits bounce in my face, and I can't take it anymore. I lean up and pull one into my mouth, sucking her nipple and massaging the other one with my free hand. She screams and rotates her hips faster against me. I move my mouth to her other breast and suck that one, too.
Her damn tits are amazing.
I groan, continuing my attack on her breasts with my lips and teeth. Moving from one to the other as she continues rocking her hips and squeezing her thighs.
"Holy shit," she gasps, feeling the build up inside her. I know she's close, and it's going to be fucking intense.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear you." I wrap a hand around her and smack her ass cheek twice. "I want those cheeks to burn."
"Ohgodyes … " she moans all at once, her pussy tightening around my cock as she screams again, pushing her hands down against my chest as she comes. I release inside her seconds later, unable to control it any longer.
"Fuck, my girl likes that."
She falls down against me with a slap, her chest heaving up and down. My arms lay slack against the mattress as we both try to control our breathing.
"Aspen … " I breathe out.
"Yes?"
"You really are incredible," I say simply, but she doesn't respond. Her body shivers and it's all the response I need.
I wrap an arm around her and shift our bodies so we're lying on our sides. I dispose of the condom and toss it into the small wastebasket by her nightstand.
Her legs are still intertwined with mine as I cup her jaw and rub the pad of my thumb gently over her cheek. She leans into my palm and smiles.
I lean in and softly brush my lips with hers. She parts her lips and slowly kisses me back. I can still feel her rapid breaths against my chest as she wraps an arm around my hip and pulls me closer.
Being with her is so much more than I ever imagined. After all this time of thinking about her and feeling this pull between us that I couldn't explain, it's overwhelming to finally be here with her now. My emotions are in overdrive, and I'm not sure if I can control them anymore.
She's somehow managed to take my heart and heal it from the inside out. She's helped me see things I've been blind to for far too long. I never thought I'd get this feeling back.
I don't remember falling asleep, but I know she was in my arms when we both started drifting off. But now I'm waking up to an empty bed, and I worry she's off somewhere freaking out about what happened between us.
The entire apartment is dark, and I realize it's because it's dark outside. I internally start freaking out searching for my phone and clothes when I remember my mom is keeping Natalia overnight. She is off from school tomorrow, and my mom wanted to take her clothes shopping in the morning.
I walk out of her room and head down the hallway when I see my boxer shorts and clothes in a pile outside the bathroom. I pull my boxers on and throw the rest back on the floor.
I hear faint music coming from the other room, so I quietly walk to the door and peek open. I see Aspen sitting on a stool in front of an easel with just a sheet wrapped loosely around her. She's holding a paintbrush in one hand as she strokes paint over a canvas. She has a large bright light shining down on the canvas, but the rest of the room is shrouded in darkness.
Music is playing from the iPod next to her, and I can hear her humming in tune with it. I recognize the song-A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, and when the song ends and repeats again, I know that it's meaningful to her.
I look to my right and see another stool near the wall. I quietly grab it and walk back over to her.
She looks over her shoulder and smiles just as I set the stool behind her. I set my legs on each side so she's sitting in between them. "You're sitting," I say more like a question, wrapping my arms around her waist.
"My legs needed to recover a bit." She bites her lip and arches a brow.
"Oh, well, that I can understand." I kiss her cheek softly before brushing my lips against hers. "What are you painting?"
"Recreating the tree my sister and I always used to climb." She turns back and blends in the leaves of the tree. I notice a girl is lying on the grass and another is up in the branches. "We were both competitive. Always challenging each other to see who could go the highest and who could climb the fastest. It was just something we always did."
"Sounds like it was an important part of your childhood."
"It was." She sighs. I feel her body tense against mine, and I wonder if she's hesitant to say more. "It's been six years, and I can't get the image out of my head. I paint it over and over. I'm not sure if it's to purge the memory or to torture myself for not saving her. The fall broke her neck and she was gone before I could even climb down to her."
My body shudders at just the image, but the pain in her voice nearly kills me. Not only did she lose someone extremely close to her, but she also witnessed it.
I study the painting harder and realize the blood isn't where it should be. "Why is the blood down here?" I ask softly, pointing to her sister's wrist.
"She was a cutter," she states directly. "It started a couple years before, and I never really understood why. But I always felt the pain when she did it. Something inside me just knew."
"Did she get help?"
"The first time. After that, Mom and Dad said it was a cry for attention and stopped doing anything about it. Mom thought it was a phase and she'd grow out of it. Dad thought she was trying too hard to stand out, be different since she was constantly in my shadow. It wasn't until after her death that we saw the cuts on the inside of her thighs. She had a drawer of razors and just piles and piles of paper."
I lean down and kiss her shoulder. I can see it hurts to relive the events of her sister's death, but I can't help but feel proud of how open and honest she is about it.
"What were on the pieces of paper? Notes?"
"Drawings."
"So she was into art, too?"
"I guess, but I hadn't known at the time." Her eyes hooded. "She never showed me anything or mentioned it." She shrugs, her eyes meeting mine again.
"It might've been her way of coping or at least trying to. She probably wasn't proud of it and hid it," I offer.
"I feel like I do that. I paint to release the pain of losing her. It's the only outlet I've allowed myself, never really allowing myself to grieve and never accepting the reality until now. It's burdened me for years."
"Did your parents ever acknowledge it after her death? Were they supportive of your art growing up?"
Her lips are in a firm line as she shakes her head. "Hardly. Even as a hobby, they thought it was a waste of time."
"That's a shame. You have one of the most beautiful styles I've ever seen." I cup her cheek and rub the pad of my thumb over it. "It's their loss."
A small smile appears on her lips and I lean in, softly kissing them. It's sweet and romantic and everything about her is just perfect.
"You're right." She smiles and kisses me back.
"Glad to hear you say that." I grin against her mouth, getting distracted by her full, soft lips. I quickly lean back and swipe a finger across her face, smearing a line of paint on her face.
"Oh my God!" she squeals, laughing.
She tries to get away, but I grab her wrist and pull her back toward my chest, swiping another finger along her arm.
"You're so going to pay for that!" She laughs.
I jump off the chair before she can grab the paint and get me back. She chases after me as she tries holding the sheet that's wrapped around her with one hand and dripping paint from the other hand. She eventually corners me and covers my chest with her handprints.
"Such a little devil." I grin, grabbing her wrists and swinging her around. The sheet drops from around her as I lean over her and rub my chest against her back, smearing the paint right back on her.
"Damn you!" She giggles, trying to wiggle out of my hold.