Pushing the Limits(42)

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.