“They hurt.”

“They hurt, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do they hurt, sweetheart?”

“Because they want your hands on them,” I blurt out, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Touch them as I do.” So much authority. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.

I wrap my thumb and forefinger around one nipple and squeeze. A whimper slips from between my lips.

“That’s not how I touch you,” he grunts.

“N-no?”

“No. Pinch them savagely as I would.”

Suppressing a moan, I squeeze my sensitive nipple harder, torturing it as if Aiden’s doing it.

I imagine him here with me, his lips wrapped around my other nipple, sucking it into his hot mouth. He nibbles on the perky bud sending tingles straight between my legs.

“Aiden…”

“Hmm, sweetheart?” I feel his grunt on my skin instead of hearing it.

“More. I want more.”

“Are you wet for me?”

“Yes.” A hundred times, yes. My arousal coats my thighs and permeates the air.

“Open your legs and dip your middle finger inside that soaking pussy.”

I don’t need to be told twice.

The moment my finger rests inside, I buck off the bed. It’s as if Aiden is here, thrusting that long finger in me, sampling me.

“Add another one.”

“But…”

“Do it.”

Oh, God. Why are his orders such a turn on tonight? They’re more than words and straight up torture devices.

Carefully, I add another finger. My eyes roll to the back of my head with how tight I feel around them.

“Move them for me, sweetheart. Let me hear those noises you make.”

I thrust my fingers in and out. The entire time, I imagine Aiden scissoring his fingers inside of me. His body overpowering mine. His strong muscles tightening with each movement.

“Touch your clit.”

My thumb grazes the swollen nub. Pleasure rushes through me in torturous bursts. I hold the phone between my cheek and my shoulder and use my other hand to twirl my hard, aching nipple.

Closing my eyes, I surrender myself to the overwhelming sensations. I might be the one touching myself, but I’m not the one behind this pleasure.

Aiden’s raspy orders are.

It’s almost as if he’s the one thrusting in and out of me, teasing my clit and playing with my nipple. He’s bringing me closer to the edge with every single touch.

“Aiden… Oh, my God, Aiden.”

“Fuck right, your God.”

My pace escalates, ears buzzing, and stomach tightening. The sheets underneath me feel harsh and painful against my overheated skin.

“Harder,” he orders on a grunt. “Faster.”

I follow his command, my heartbeat jacking up with every move.

“Fuck.” His breathing deepens on the other end. “Fuck!”

The thought that he’s touching himself to my moans and whimpers drives me insane.

I can imagine him standing in the bathroom, his trousers and boxers pooling at his feet. He’s fisting his cock in that rough, masculine way and jerking up and down like he’s angry. Like his body yearns for mine the way mine does. Like his soul needs mine to be whole.

My movements turn more frantic and out of control at the thought.

I can taste the release on my tongue.

“Oh… Aiden… I’m s-so close…”

“I’m going to come.” He grunts. “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes… Yes…” I gasp as the wave hits me like sparks in a starless night.

I cry out then hide my face in the pillow to kill the sound.

My fingers are still seated deep inside of me, slick with arousal. It’s almost as if Aiden has been filling me — not my own hand.

It would’ve been more euphoric if he was here in person, though.

A deep growl fills my ear as Aiden reaches his own climax. I pant into the phone. I wish he was here so I’d see his sex God face when he comes.

“That was…” I breathe. “Amazing.”

“We’re not done,” he rumbles.

“No?”

“Remove your fingers.”

I do. “Done.”

“Now suck. Let me taste you.”

My cheeks flame at the thought, but I shove my index and middle finger into my mouth.

Tasting myself is intimate, but the fact that I’m pretending to be Aiden is even more intimate.

I lap my tongue around my fingers, making small noises.

“You know what I’m fantasising about?” His low, deep voice makes me suck harder for some reason.

I make a negative sound without removing my fingers.

“I’m fantasising about those pouty lips wrapped around my dick as I fuck you with my tongue.”

A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, and I’m tempted to touch myself again. That’s the type of effect Aiden’s dirty words have on me.

“Soon, sweetheart. I’m claiming all of you.”

I release my fingers with a pop. “Promise?”

A dark chuckle fills the other end. “Oh, I promise.”

24

Aiden

For the past week, Jonathan has been parading me around China for his investors and fuck knows what else.

If I have to sit down for another meeting like a puppet, I’m going to destroy something around here.

This is Jonathan’s revenge for breaking it off with Queens. In his words, I put a smudge on his immaculate relationship with Sebastian Queens, and I’ll have to do something in return.

Truth is, he’s still petty about how I called him out about Alicia.

I only agreed to play along because he threatened to take it out on Elsa.

While I’m fine with declaring war on Jonathan, I won’t watch him use her as a subject of destruction.

He’ll have to go through me first.

Still, I need to go home — like yesterday.

Nash, Knight, and Astor have been filling the group chat with texts that pissed me the fuck off.

Knight: So King is no more, huh?

Nash: Looks like it.

Astor: Fuck yeah. My threesome dream will come true.

Astor: On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely do you think I can convince Kimmy and Ellie to wear bunny outfits?

Nash: Elsa, 0. Kimberly, 6. If drunk, 9.

Astor: I better get Kimmy drunk then *grinning face*

Knight: Do you want to die?

I’m surprised that little shit Astor even showed up in the group chat. He sometimes acts like the thing doesn’t exist then bitches about how we keep him in the dark.

Bottom line is, I need to go back and fuck the three of them up for even thinking I’d leave Elsa.

That will only happen after death. Even then, I might make a deal with the devil so I can haunt her from afar.

What? I have to protect her.

We’ve been texting for the past week — or more like sexting. I came to the sound of her voice more than I can count.

After our momentary — and fucked up — separation, Elsa has become more liberated about her sexuality and pleasure. She even texted me she’s been thinking about me in class.