He grabs his dick in his hand, giving it a slow stroke as he looks down at me. “You did so well with that candy,” he says, grinning as I open my mouth for him. He places the tip of his dick on my soft tongue. “Let’s see how well you suck my cock.”
I wrap my lips around the tip, giving it a tentative suck, mentally preparing myself. I’ve never really had a gag reflex, but his dick makes it impossible not to gag when I try to fit him all the way. He’s too big for that; it doesn’t work. But I can still make him feel good, even if I can’t deepthroat him.
I spit in my hand and grip my fist around his cock, seeing his stomach twitching when I do. My tongue swirls around the head of his cock, my fist stroking him simultaneously. He whimpers, thrusting his dick an inch deeper into my mouth, making me gag. I grip his cock in my fist tighter, making him groan, and he opens his eyes, looking down at me. “Don’t do that,” I warn him. “You might like telling me what to do, but I’m in control here.”
He nods, licking his lips as he brushes the hair out of my face. “I can’t fucking help it,” he says. “You look so good with my dick in your mouth.” The praise makes me shiver, and I wrap my mouth around him, slowly sucking the head, and his eyes close once more. “Oh shit,” he moans. “That’s so good, Leila.”
My name in his mouth makes me throb, wishing I had more time with him than these quick little secret hookups. The moans leaving his lips every time I slide my tongue up his shaft increases my pleasure.
I moan around his dick as I bob my head on him. A hand wraps in my hair, and I look up at him. He lets out a moan, a sound so sexy I swear I had a mini orgasm. “Don’t look at me like that. Fuck. It’s too…. Ugh.” Every sound from his lips encouraging me to keep going, suck him deeper, work my tongue over him faster.
I tongue the slit, dragging my tongue to the underside of his cock. His butt clenches, his dick getting impossibly harder in my mouth. “Fuck, Leila. You’re so good at that,” he moans. “Where the hell did you learn that?” Another grunt. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.”
I look back up, seeing his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he keeps his restraint, careful not to thrust in my mouth. I work him deeper inside, sliding my hot, wet tongue over him as I stroke the base, and in seconds, he loses that gained control. He bucks his hips slightly, and I feel the hot spurts of his cum hit the back of my throat. He grunts, mumbling my name as he comes in my mouth. I swallow every drop, pull him out, and lick the liquid dripping from his dick, cleaning him up.
He pulls me up from the floor, wiping my lips with his thumb. His eyes roll to the back of his head when I wrap my lips around it, cleaning it off. “Holy shit,” he leans in and whispers in my ear. “Next time, it’s my turn to taste you.”
I turn the faucet on, place my hair to one side, and swish water around my mouth, then spit it back out into the sink. Aiden’s arms wrap around my waist, and he buries his lips into my exposed neck. “So beautiful,” he murmurs. “Missed you.”
I let my eyes to close as I feel his hands on me. He places a kiss on my neck and another and another. I melt into him, my hair draped over my shoulder as he kisses my neck. “What’s this?” he asks.
“Huh?” I say deliriously.
“You have a tattoo?” His fingers run over the ink on my neck. “I haven’t seen this before.”
I let out a laugh. “Well, it’s not like you’re looking at my neck when you fuck me.”
He turns me around, frowning down at me. “Not for lack of trying,” he says. “I want to look at every single inch of you, Leila.” The meaning of his words brings a soft flutter to my stomach as his hands run up my arms, cupping my face.
My throat bobs, staring up at him. I pull back, turning around and washing my hands with the lavender soap, needing something—anything—to do that will get me out of this conversation.
“It looks good on you.” I feel his hands pull my hair to the side, his fingers tracing the tattoo. “A tiger paw?” he asks me.
I look up, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “It’s for my dad.Eres una Tigresa. He’s always said that to me,” I tell him, smiling when I think of my dad. “It means tiger in English.” I let out a laugh. “I always wanted a cat,” I tell him. “But my sister’s allergic and we could never have one.” I turn around, looking up at him. “And around the same time, I learned tigers were just big cats, so one year, for Halloween, I dressed up as a tiger and the name stuck.”
He smiles at my reflection. “Tiger, huh? I can see that. Strong, confident… Vicious, scary,” he jokes.
My head shakes when the smile on my lips gets too big to hide. What are we even doing anymore? So many rules have been broken, and the longer I spend with him, the less I can remember what I’m fighting so hard against.
His words from earlier pop up into my head, making my smile slip and my hands grip the sink behind me. “You said something just now, and I was wondering…” His brows pull together and I look down at the ground. “Does it bother you?” I ask. “How many guys I’ve been with?”
His hands are on me instantly, lifting my chin until I’m looking into his hypnotizing eyes. “No,” he says with a frown. “I don’t need names or a number, Leila. Hell, I don’t even need to know if they were good or not.” Not. Definitely not as good as him. “I’d be a hypocrite if I cared about that,” he says. “You had a history before you met me. We’ve both been with other people, we can’t change that.”
His thumb strokes my cheek. “I’ve been with just as many girls if not more.” He pulls me closer to him, his hand finding a home at my waist. “But that’s irrelevant now. All I think of is you.” He smiles at me. “I’m not worried about any other guys either.” With a smirk, he leans down and whispers, “We both know they were just practice until you met me.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re so cocky.” He grins, leaning down until our lips are an inch away. “Come on,” I tell him, opening the bathroom door and stepping out. “They’ll start to get suspicious.”
“They’ll get suspicious if we walk in together too,” he says, kissing my neck. “Just a little longer.” My eyes drift closed at the feel of his lips against me. Am I ever going to get sick of him?
“Aiden,” I moan when he kisses down my neck.
“Yes, gorgeous?” he murmurs between kisses.
God, that nickname. “We need to go,” I plead, my voice unrecognizable, strained and thick with pleasure.
He pulls back, sighing. “You go first,” he tells me, wiping a hand down his face. “I need to cool down again.” My eyes drop to the tent he’s pitching in his jeans, making my lips curve up. He laughs when he sees my reaction. “You like driving me crazy, huh?”
I nod. “Just like you do to me.”
