The Bachelor's Promise (Bachelor Auction) (13 page)

“
Yes
.” Anything. She’d give him anything he asked just as long as he didn’t stop touching her. “Please.”

His low, wicked chuckle vibrated over her damp top and skin. He lowered his hands to the waistband of her pants and tugged the shirttail free. He slid underneath, the surprisingly calloused and hard palms lightly abrading her belly and torso, sending shivers cascading through her. The material bunched around his wrists as he steadily moved higher.

“Up,” he ordered, and once more she abandoned her hold on him, lifting her arms. With a quick, economical tug, he removed the top, leaving her clothed in only a simple, black bra and her pants.

Latent shyness and modesty struck her, swarming over her and crawling up her chest and neck, and in that moment, the twenty-year-old made an unscheduled appearance. Noelle veered far from the type of women Aiden was often pictured with—gorgeous, pampered, beautiful bodies, money and elegance pouring from every inch of skin exposed by short and expensive-looking dresses. Models, actresses, socialites—none had been poor, tatted, aspiring gallery owners who trimmed their own hair and shopped at consignment stores. He was used to seeing women adorned in delicate lace lingerie from high-end boutiques, not plain, serviceable bras that came two on a hanger.

“Don’t you dare,” he rumbled, and she halted in the middle of folding her arms over herself. “Don’t you dare hide from me. For too long I’ve been dreaming about this beautiful body, and now that I finally have you here in front of me, I want to see every damn inch. Touch and taste every inch. So put your arms down.”

Floored not just by his words, but by the smoldering hunger—and bared truth—in his eyes, she obeyed and slowly lowered her arms to her sides. She didn’t move when he unfastened the front clasp of her bra. Or when he smoothed the straps over her shoulders and down, the undergarment falling soundlessly to the floor. Air caressed her bared flesh, but her tremble had nothing to do with the heating and air conditioning, and everything to do with the man setting her on fire with his gentle but fierce seduction.

His big hands engulfed her breasts, molding, shaping, squeezing. On a rough hum, he captured her nipples between his thumbs and fingers. Tugged. Rolled. Tweaked. Dark, erotic pleasure pummeled her, punching her hips forward, arching her back toward him. Offering him more of her.

“Just as I remembered,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek then lips over a beaded tip. He sucked her deep in his mouth, the suction hard, intense, knee-weakening. Hers buckled, and he immediately shifted, bracing her against the wall. He didn’t let up on her flesh, his tongue coiling around her tip, pulling and stroking until every pint of blood in her body seemed to congregate in her breasts or between her legs. Delivering a long lick with the flat of his tongue, he pulled back. Studied his handiwork. “So pretty,” he stated, lust stamping his features. Satisfaction gleamed from his eyes as they shifted up to her face. “The prettiest dark red after I’ve had them.”

Her fingers flexed against his scalp, her fingernails biting into his scalp. Aiden grunted, and she breathlessly apologized, easing her grip. But he nipped the peak, nuzzled it. “Don’t apologize. You can’t hurt me. Mark me up, sweetheart. Do your worst.”

She took him at his word and clung to him as he switched his attention to her neglected breast, licking and savoring her like his favorite treat. And when he trailed a damp, hot path down her torso and dipped his tongue in her belly button, in that moment she believed she was something treasured and favored. All her insecurities were long-distant memories, because here, in this quiet guest bedroom in a penthouse fit for a king, he made her feel like no other woman existed. Like no other had ever roughened his breath until it came heavy and ragged from his chest. Like no other woman mattered. No other woman except her.

It was a fairy tale. An instant of sex-induced hysteria.

But for now, for tonight, she would bask in it. Greedily.

With deft movements, he released the pants fastener at her waist and slid down the zipper. The whisper of the metal teeth separating seemed deafening in the thick silence. She clenched and unclenched her fingers in his hair, anxiety-edged excitement knotting her stomach, pulsating in her clit and deeper within the core of her. Knowledge of what he intended, of where the feather-light caresses across her lower abdomen were headed rocked through her. Nerves jangled under her skin, and she shook in his grasp, the only thing holding her up his strong, wide hands on her hips.

He tipped his head back, studying her. “Have you ever allowed a man to taste you here, Noelle? Let him eat you like a meal he can’t get enough of?”

Oh shit
. She’d heard men describe oral sex in crude ways, but never like this. Never like it was all his pleasure, something he hungered for.

“Noelle?”

“N-no,” she stammered. Kisses, yes. Even touching. But no, she’d never permitted any this particular intimacy. Being this…exposed, this vulnerable with someone? The thought had made her skittish. Until now.

“Will you let me?” He pressed his thumbs into the spot just above her sex, inches away from her aching, pulsing clit. His stare dropped, as if he could see her flesh through her black panties.

“You really want to…” She trailed off, not sure what or why she was asking.

Aiden was already nodding. “Fuck you with my mouth? Get you off with my tongue? Suck your clit and lick you until you come? Hell. Yes,” he ground out, his thumbs massaging small, tight circles into her pelvic bone. “The only thing I want more is my cock buried inside you.”

Oh, God, this man could talk her right into orgasm. He should have an advisory label slapped on his forehead.
Warning: Ovary Explosion Ahead.

He leaned forward, planted an openmouthed, wet kiss over the band of her underwear. “Will you let me?” he repeated. Another kiss. “Say yes.”

“
Yes
.” The answer burst out of her.

In the next instant, her back pressed against the bed instead of the wall, her pants were removed, leaving her naked except for her black panties. She blinked, and the ceiling disappeared, replaced by Aiden. His lips covered hers, his tongue thrusting past her lips, sweeping inside, stretching her wide for his possession. Just as he would her body with his mouth and then his dick.

Before she could claim his head again, he drifted down over her neck, chest, doling out a lazy lick to each nipple, then lower still. His large body skimmed down hers, the solid weight of him a caress in itself. He wedged his wide shoulders between her thighs, and his breath bathed the flesh at the juncture of her thighs.

He lifted his head, met her gaze, and, hooking his fingers in the band of her underwear, drew the material down her legs, not freeing her from his visual ensnarement. Not when he dropped the clothing on the floor. Not when he dipped his head and licked a scorching path up her drenched cleft.

Electric. Sizzling. Her spine arched hard, as if whipped. Her lips parted on the cry that surged up from within her, but it lodged in her throat.
Jesus
. Oh,
Jesus
. She scrabbled for his head, his shoulders, but couldn’t reach them. Instead, she clawed at the covers, grasping them in a stranglehold. And as he repeated the caress, his tongue circling and stroking her clit, she couldn’t prevent the scream that ripped from her throat.

“Where’re you going?” came Aiden’s dark whisper. His hands clamped down on her hips, controlling the frantic bucking and rolling. “I’m not nearly satisfied. I could stay here feasting on you all night.” He flicked the small bundle of nerves, drawing on it, tormenting it. “Maybe I will,” he growled, then proceeded to devastate her.

God, it wasn’t neat or quiet or decorous. No, it was messy, and full of wet smacks and hungry moans. He left no part of her a mystery. With one palm shoving her thigh back and the other cupping her ass, he devoured her. Sucking her clit, raking his teeth over her folds before diving between them, lapping at her, dining on her. Driving her crazy with a jagged pleasure that threatened to tear her into ribbons. She alternated between wanting to curl in on herself and spreading herself wide…squirming away from this terrifying lust and begging him to give her more, show her more…

A blunt fingertip rimmed the entrance to her body, and she stiffened. The last man to caress her there, to penetrate her, had been Aiden.

“Shh,” he soothed, continuing the same rhythmic rubbing. “Let me in, sweetheart. Let me in.” Slowly, he entered her, and she whimpered at the fullness, the sound almost drowned out by his moan. He was thicker, longer than her, and though it was just his finger, it stretched her. He withdrew, eased back inside. Then again. “So fucking tight. Just like before. And wet. You love my mouth on you. Love it so much I can get my finger inside you. Take another one, sweetheart,” he urged. Maybe he knew she wouldn’t deny him or had faith she could accept him. He returned to her, sliding two wide digits into her, simultaneously easing the ache and exasperating it.

He was preparing her; she realized it. But, Christ, this invasion battered the breath from her lungs. How would she… His lips closed around her clit, his fingers burrowing deeper. And then she didn’t care. Didn’t give a damn. Not with him shoving her closer and closer to an orgasm whose heat reached out, singed her, beckoned her. Helpless, she let him play her like a newly constructed, young instrument, unaccustomed to the demands placed on her but so damn eager to learn.

Humming, he coiled his tongue around the bundle of nerves and plunged his fingers high inside her, hooking the tips and pressing against a spot that tore a scream from her. And catapulted her into a white-hot release that left her shuddering. Damn near babbling. Over the harsh gasps of air she diligently sucked in and the aftershocks rippling through her body, she was dimly aware of Aiden rising off of her. And the whisper of clothes sliding over flesh.

She forced her eyes open, because as heavily as the sensual lassitude weighed her down, no way in hell was she missing a naked Aiden.

Beautiful. He was a thing of absolute beauty. Bright hair tumbled by her fingers. Green eyes blazed with lust. That full, sensuous mouth. And miles and miles of golden, taut skin stretched over firm, toned muscle and tendon. Wide shoulders and chest, a ripped abdomen, thick columns of thighs and powerful calves. And his cock. She swallowed. A flash of feminine anxiety shimmered through her, stronger than moments earlier. The thick column of flesh protruded from a dark brown nest of curls, capped off by a swollen, flared tip. It was gorgeous in a primal, almost brutish way. She’d never really understood women’s fascination with dicks, big or otherwise. But then, she hadn’t seen Aiden’s. Now she not only got it, she was running for president of the club.

Before she registered her intention, she sat, extending her arm toward him. Needing to touch him, wrap her hands around him. Pump that intimidating flesh.

Aiden encircled her wrist, edging closer until the outsides of his legs spread her thighs open. With the other hand, he brought a foil packet to his teeth and ripped it open. Releasing her, he quickly rolled the condom down his length and crawled on top of her like the big, dangerous cat he reminded her of. Her belly twisted with nerves. Excitement crackled under her skin like a live wire. Desire rolled through her veins, drugging and energizing her. And this man—this powerful, enigmatic, sexy-as-hell man—enraptured her.

His elbows bracketed her head, and his emerald gaze burned down into hers. “Tell me you want me buried inside you, Noelle. Taking you, claiming what no man has ever had. Tell me it’s what you need. That I’m who you need.”

She stared up at him, her breath like small blasts against his lips. The words wedged in her throat. He referred to her body, giving him permission to have the body no man had ever been inside. And he’d been the only man to ever possess her heart and trust before crushing both. If she repeated the words he wanted her to state, which would she be attesting to? She didn’t know. Didn’t want to analyze it and find out, because she was too frightened of the answer.

“I want you,” she said, compromising. And from the narrowing of his eyes, he knew it. But the slant of his mouth over hers, the erotic dance and duel of tongues translated his acceptance.

His hips settled between her legs, and at the first nudge of his dick against her flesh, she went motionless. Her heart hammered against her chest, and her fingers curled into the dense muscle of his upper arms.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he whispered, smoothing the hair off her damp forehead. “Open up for me. I want to know what it’s finally like to have you wrapped around me, squeezing me. Holding me,” he murmured. A flex of his hips, and he pushed inside her, the swollen tip alone stretching her entrance. She couldn’t hold back her whimper. “All the time you need, sweetheart,” he breathed, drawing back and slipping just a little of himself back in.

For seconds, minutes, hours, he coaxed her sex to open to him, to accept him. The effort cost him. By the time he nudged up against the part that declared her a virgin, sweat poured off him. Her flesh quivered around him, and she trembled with the strain, the pressure of his cock prying her open and leaving her helpless and strangely empowered. With him burrowing through her, branding her, she’d never been more aware of her femininity. Never felt both fragile and strong. She was pinned under Aiden, but he shook like a leaf caught in a storm above her.

“Hold on to me,” he rasped, sliding his arms under her back and hooking his fingers over her shoulders. She encircled his neck, clung to him. “Good, sweetheart.”

With no other warning, he drove forward, and
God
. She stiffened, the…
fullness
pummeling the air from her chest. There was pain, yes, but not the kind she’d been led to believe she would experience. But the sense of being possessed, of being filled to the point where it scared her a bit, where she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began…it had her squirming in his embrace, trying to get free. Trying to get closer. Trying to ease the pressure. Trying to get more of it.