“Like what?”
Aiden’s eyes finally meet mine and they appear glassed over like something is completely dead inside.
“Like Alicia.”
My heart aches at the mention of her name. She was just another pawn in Jonathan and Ethan’s game.
Just like Ma.
Just like Aiden.
Just like me.
I raise a hand and stroke his cheek right beneath the mole. “Do you miss her?”
“No.” His facial expression doesn’t change. “What’s the point of missing someone who’ll never return?”
Ouch.
As much as mentally unwell Alicia was, something tells me Aiden looked up to her. She was the break of pattern between him and Jonathan.
Since her death, Aiden took after his father’s steps.
“She used to sit me beside her as she read her philosophy and psychology books,” he says in a distant voice. “I was her only audience.”
“Aiden…”
“She should’ve died.” His jaw tightens. “She was too fragile and wouldn’t have survived in a world filled by the likes of Jonathan King and Ethan Steel.”
“Is that why you became like Jonathan?”
“I didn’t become like Jonathan, I chose to be like him. People like Alicia are insignificant. One has to be the king to survive.”
For some reason, it doesn’t feel like he’s ridiculing his mother. If anything, he sounds sad when he says her name.
I cradle his cheeks with both my palms and give him a tentative smile. “It’s okay if you miss her.”
“I don’t.”
“I miss my mum, my dad, and Eli. I don’t even remember them, but I miss them. I think I’ve always missed them, that’s why I was having those nightmares. It’s like a punishment for forgetting about them.”
He watches me intently as if I’m about to grow a head. Or two.
Tears fill my eyes as that grief hits me out of nowhere.
I can’t fight it even if I want to.
“It’s weird, right?”
He remains poker-faced, but his hand reaches out to stroke a stray strand of hair off my face.
“It’s not weird to miss people.” He twirls a strand between his fingers. “I think I missed you, too, sometimes.”
Before I can make out the meaning behind his words, his lips press to mine with a tenderness that startles the shit out of me.
Aiden doesn’t do soft. He’s all rugged and rough.
He wraps a hand around my nape and pulls me closer. I willingly open when he probes my lips. He kisses me slowly, too slowly, as if he’s re-learning me.
As if he lost me and finally found me.
I moan in his mouth as he cups my breast through the bathrobe. My nipples harden and strain against the cloth.
He traces a finger up and down my scar as if he’s engraving it to memory.
I close my eyes and surrender to his onslaught. There’s nothing more crushing and levitating as being kissed by Aiden.
No. I’m not only being kissed by Aiden.
I’m being worshipped.
He’s taking my world and reshaping it without my permission.
He doesn’t break the kiss as he reaches between us and unbuckles his belt.
In no time, he’s nudging at my entrance, and slowly, too slowly thrusts inside me.
I’m too wet, but he still finds resistance because of his size.
His groan matches my own as he pulls the slightest bit from my mouth to stare at my face.
Thump, thump, thump.
I place my hand against his heart. My lips fall open at the maddening heartbeat under my fingertips.
His thrusts are slow and almost gentle, like that first time when he waited for me to get used to him.
Is he also waiting for me to get used to him now?
“I missed you, sweetheart,” he rasps against my lips.
My heart beats so loud, I’m surprised I’m able to hear him.
“Say you missed me, too.” He continues caressing my scar as he thrusts deeper, hitting that spot inside me.
I open my mouth to say the words, but his thrusts render me speechless.
This intimacy will kill me.
“Say it,” he grunts and pulls one of my legs up to get more depth.
“I missed you,” I breathe as the wave hits me deep inside.
I don’t get a choice as I unravel all around him. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I nibble on my lower lip.
Aiden kisses me again, replacing my teeth with his. His pace grows faster and rougher, filling me to the rim.
My nails dig into his back as if I’m holding on for dear life.
He grunts, and I watch his handsome face turning rigid as warmth coats my insides.
When he pulls out of me, sharp emptiness slashes inside me.
I’m tempted to reach out and put him in me again.
Instead, I wrap my arms around his torso and snuggle to his side, both my arms and legs wrapped around him.
His fingers spread through my hair, stroking it back.
I’m in that dreamy place between wakefulness and sleep when I hear his whisper in the dark. “We’ll never miss each other again, sweetheart.”
35
Elsa
Later on, I wake up to a rustle of clothes.
Blinking the sleep away, I sit up in bed.
I plop my elbow on the pillow and lean on my palm to watch Aiden dress.
There’s such a masculine beauty about the way he yanks his jeans up his muscular football thighs and to the V of his hips.
No boxer briefs. Mmm.
My thighs clench at the thought.
Pity I can’t see the front properly since his back faces me.
My gaze strays to the hard contours of his naked shoulders as he fetches his T-shirt. His tattoos ripple with the veins as if taunting me to watch them up close and personal.
My lusty mode comes to a screeching halt at the full view of his naked back.
It disappears all too soon when the T-shirt covers him, but the view is engraved deep in my memories.
The slash marks on his skin.
The faded scars.
I swallow the sensation gripping me by the gut. Aiden doesn’t parade his scar around.
He called it a weakness.
I never asked him again about that, but I will. Just not now.
Maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to figure out Aiden. It’s not that he’s closed off, it’s that he dislikes being pushed. If I take my time with him and make sure he’s well satiated, he’ll be on my side.
He’ll tell me everything I need to know.
All I have to do is be patient and stop antagonising him when he’s volatile.
It’ll take work, but I’ll get there.
Eventually.
I also need to teach him not to antagonise me either.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he asks while turning around.
The playful gleam in his dark eyes hits my heart in all the right places.
“Maybe.” I smile. “Where are you going?”
The spark leaves his features just as fast to be replaced by his poker face.
“What is it?” Alarm grips me by the throat.
“I have to meet Jonathan.”
I straighten. “Don’t go.”
“Worried about me, sweetheart?” He grins.
Yes, and I don’t want Jonathan between us.