Cree

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I should have learned to expect the unexpected by now, but once again I found myself thrown for a loop by Aaron.

Not just Aaron, but Aaron and my reaction to him.

The strife, the anger, the frustration that being around Aaron often brought was something I wouldn’t say I liked, but something I’d gotten used to.

But by that same token, a different experience with him, one where we dropped all the shit and simply dealt with each other as we were, a man and a woman who wanted to pursue things and decided to do so without too much fuss and pretense… That dinner had shown me a different side of Aaron, one that I hadn’t really expected but that I was completely intrigued by. This night, this man… So far, it had been perfect, and as I sat next to Aaron again, riding in his over-the-top car to what I was sure would be an equally over-the-top place, I felt simultaneously at peace and excited.

And so turned on that I could barely stop from squirming in my seat.

“Anxious, are we?” Aaron asked.

I risked sneaking a peek at him from the corner of my eye, and though he was facing forward, I didn’t miss the cocky grin on the half of his face I could see.

I let my gaze trace his strong jaw, down the solid column of his neck, down farther and farther until I centered on the hard bridge between his thighs.

His pants were cut an acceptable way, but I didn’t miss his own arousal.

“You’re not the only one,” I responded, feeling playful, powerful.

“Seems not,” he responded with a soft chuckle.

We went quiet then, the air between us simultaneously placid and crackling with electricity.

I could scarcely think of anything I had ever been more excited about, but at the same time, didn’t feel any of that usual expected nervousness.

I wanted this, wanted it badly, and knew that I would have it.

I also knew that in the end it was just me and him and everything else would fall into place.

I wasn’t surprised when Aaron turned into the parking garage for one of the most exclusive buildings in the city.

I also wasn’t surprised when I walked inside, saw marble and glass and steel, every fixture perfect, everything looking and screaming that it was fit for a king.

I generally liked to pay attention to my surroundings, but tonight it was difficult, especially when Aaron was beside me, his hand resting at the small of my back.

The touch was barely there, but he guided me, and I felt the pinpricks of sensation where each of his fingertips and thumb touched me.

I was usually a sucker for a good marble statue, but couldn’t be bothered to look at it when we passed it on the way to the elevator.

Instead, my blood was near boiling, and not with rage, with anticipation, desire, curiosity.

Aaron pressed the top button on the elevator and then looked at me, and I found myself lost in the squirreling darkness of his eyes.

There was a fierceness in them, a look that promised he would devour me, and I knew that promise was something he could deliver on.

My sex clenched at the intensity in his eyes, the way he held his body rigid, the anticipation making goose bumps break out on my skin.

I’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse, my lone accommodation for the lateness of the workday earlier, and I was grateful that I had done so when Aaron looked at the little peek of skin that was on display and then trailed his fingers down it.

I was throbbing now, achingly empty, barely able to contain myself, the need to have Aaron fill me so great.

The elevator dinged quietly, and Aaron abruptly looked away.

I missed seeing his eyes, seeing the passion in them, but I was grateful we had reached our destination, that we were closer to acting on the desire that made it almost impossible for me to breathe.

He unlocked the door, and then let me in, and my desire was momentarily banked.

Not extinguished, but it took a bit of a backseat as I looked around Aaron’s place.

It was lovely, expensive from the designer lighting fixtures to the exotic hardwood floors.

But it was also homey.

I could see that from the sweatshirt casually tossed on the low sofa, the empty glass that sat on the edge of the sink. The photos that adorned the wall.

Aaron on horse, which reminded me that the place where he was from was renowned for its equestrian lineage.

Aaron and two other men, all three of them smiling, yet managing to look princely.

“Sorry the place is a little messy,” Aaron said.

I had been so sucked into my perusal that I didn’t notice Aaron had come to stand beside me, his fingers brushing mine.

“It’s okay. It looks…”

He looked at me expectantly, and I searched for the right word. “It looks like you live here,” I finally said.

“I do. I could have someone come and service the place every day, but I kinda like it,” he said. “It feels like home.”

“I like it too,” I said.

Aaron smiled, the expression almost shy, and the unrelenting desire I felt for him grew, added something else that I wouldn’t dare examine, at least not now.

“Your brothers, right?” I said, nodding at the picture.

“Yeah.”

“A picture of yourself…” I said, looking at Aaron, my brows raised.

“Oh, do I get the sense that you think that arrogant?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging, feeling both light and needy with desire. “I don’t know many people who keep pictures of themselves on their walls.”

Aaron shrugged. “You don’t know many princes. And besides, that was a special day,” he said.

I looked at him and together, by unspoken mutual agreement, we walked toward the picture.

Aaron stayed close, his fingers brushing mine the entire way, the feelings making my anticipation ratchet even higher. But also intensifying that other feeling, the one that was excited at the prospect of getting to know more about him.

“In Medina, my kingdom, you have to ride horses. It’s just expected. But I can let you in on a little secret, all right?” he said.

“Yes. Whatever you say will die with me,” I said.

“I hate horses.”

His lips began to twitch, and I laughed. “Ironic,” I said.

“You don’t know the half of it. I hate them now, but when I was a boy I was terrified of them. But I was determined to conquer my fear, and I did. That picture is the last time I ever got on a horse, and I keep it around to remind myself that I can do anything.”

I glanced at him, but then quickly looked away, needing the space to process what he had said. I knew he had opened up to me in a way that was unusual, shared a vulnerability when doing that was something that likely went against everything he’d ever been taught.

Though I knew it shouldn’t have, I couldn’t help but think about what it meant, couldn’t help but wonder if Aaron sharing that with me was more than friendly conversation. It had to be, but I couldn’t allow myself to read into it, though I certainly wanted to.

But that was a dangerous road, one that would open the door to emotions I didn’t yet understand and didn’t want to deal with. So I focused on the wall. When I looked at the picture, I noticed how attractive young Aaron was, but also noticed that he seemed a little wired, more than a little nervous.

I had only mentioned the picture as a way to tease Aaron for being so stuck on himself, but I listened now and began to look at the man himself in a new light.

Driven by fear, and desire, I turned to him, wondering if my own eyes matched the smoldering I saw in his.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, your highness?” I asked, using the name I’d told him was an insult, knowing that in this moment, it was anything but.

My voice was almost seductive and I could tell he liked it.

“I am. Let me show some of them to you,” he said.

“What are you waiting for?” I responded.

Aaron smiled, but in the next breath he was kissing me so deeply and so thoroughly that I couldn’t pay attention to anything but him.

Again I felt like I had been struck, the feeling of being encompassed by him, the desire for so much more of him leaving me off balance. But not so off balance that I didn’t recognize how amazing this was, couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion that this feeling was one that would stay with me forever.

He broke the kiss and looked down at me, his chest heaving with his breaths.

I smiled, tried to be nonchalant. “Off to a good start,” I said.

He smiled. “You can reserve judgment,” he said.

Then he reached for my blouse, and quickly unbuttoned three more buttons, exposing my bra. Aaron hadn’t even touched me, yet a moan broke free from my throat. Some small part of me felt embarrassed, knew that I was in no way being coy or hiding my eagerness, but that small part was swamped by the rest of me, the parts that wanted him and wanted him to know that I did.

“So pretty…” he whispered as he slid his fingers along the edge of my bra.

My nipples, already hard, puckered further, my back arching as I moved toward his touch.

His fingers were magical, long, strong, with calluses on his fingertips.

I had expected his hands to be soft, unmarred, but I was so glad they weren’t. That contrast, the roughness against my smooth skin sent a series of shivers shooting down my spine.

And when he dropped lower, put his hand into the cup of my bra and then began to tweak my nipple with his fingertips, those small shivers became a full body shake.

My eyes had closed, but I lifted them as much as I could muster, desperate to see him.

First I looked down at where his hand was inside my bra, torturing my skin. Then I followed his arm, up the crisp white shirt he wore, to meet his eyes.

As they had been before, they were intense, simultaneously wild with passion and equally controlled.

Aaron was with me, but he was also intent on driving me close to the edge, pushing me over.

It was something we shared in common.

I loved what he was doing to me, anticipated so much more, but I refused to be in this alone.

I wanted Aaron to be as wild as he made me, wanted us together, on equal footing, uncovering whatever this thing between us was as one.

It was that desire that gave me the strength to move.

As Aaron finished unbuttoning my shirt and then started to work on the front-clasp bra I thanked God I’d had the sense to wear today, I went to work on him.

He moved swiftly, efficiently, but I took my time.

I carefully pulled his shirttails out of his pants and then, starting at the very bottom, began to pop the buttons on his shirt open one by one.

I was eager to see him, even more eager to touch him, but going slow gave the moment a depth, a control, that I appreciated.

When I reached the final button, I popped it open and then pulled the shirt apart.

Though Aaron wore an undershirt, I could see more of his bronze skin, his heavily muscled chest, the swirls of dark hair on his chest.

I ran my hands along his chest, reveling in the feel of the soft fabric, his hard body, under my hands.

But I couldn’t sustain the teasing. To see him, touch him, was too much of a tease, so I slid his shirt down his arms, sad when he broke contact with my body, but happy when the shirt fell off his arms and to the floor.

My own shirt and bra were open, but rather than paying attention to them, I moved closer to Aaron and pulled his undershirt up and over his head.

I wasted no time reaching for his belt buckle and working it and his pants open. Aaron stood rigid, every muscle in his body seeming to be flexed, but his eyes calm, almost serene.

He was letting me take the lead, and I appreciated that. Was reminded again that what I had read before as arrogance could also be considered confidence.

Aaron was confident that he had something that would interest me, and he was confident enough to allow me to set the tone.

I liked that, found it, as now I apparently did most things about the man, sexy.

“Step out of your shoes,” I whispered, my voice barely sounding like my own.

As Aaron wordlessly complied, I did the same thing.

He was barefoot, shirtless, and I again began working at his pants. My hands threatened to tremble, but when I looked at Aaron’s eyes, the swelling emotion there called me. He hadn’t spoken, and I couldn’t exactly read his eyes, but for some reason I felt calm. Looking at him made me feel like there was no reason to rush, like we had all the time in the world, and, most importantly, like I was the person he was choosing to spend that time with.

Knowledge of that was heady, gave me a lift and at the same time sent my desire soaring.

I carefully worked his zipper down around his hardness and pushed his slacks down his lean hips. When they pooled at his feet, Aaron stepped out, but I barely paid any attention. Instead my gaze was devoted to his hardness, the outline of his long, thick shaft unmissable under his thin boxer briefs.

On instinct I reached out to touch him, froze when I heard him flinch, but then squeezed him harder when I heard his harshed-out breath.

I looked in his eyes again, saw even more emotion in the inky-black depths and knew that I could lose myself in them if I let that happen.

Instead of thinking about that, I squeezed him one last time but then quickly hooked my fingers into his waistband and I carefully pulled the boxer briefs down his legs. My eyes were riveted to him, watching as every inch of his skin was revealed. A dark swirl of hair, thick shaft, heavily veined and angry red tip, full, heavy sac hanging below.

I paused a moment, taking in Aaron’s masculine perfection, some distant part of my mind wondering how I had come to be here with him like this.

I ignored that question, wouldn’t dare think of it, not when I was here with him, on the verge of a night that promised so much more.

“My turn,” he whispered.

Then, much as I had, he pushed my shirt off my shoulders, opened my pants, and worked them and my underwear down my legs.

Being naked in front of someone for the first time was often a fraught experience for me. I never knew if my body would please them, always felt a certain amount of discomfort, self-consciousness.

Not with Aaron.

I looked at him, watched him as he caressed my full breasts, which had not been spared the effects of gravity, moved down my round stomach, squeezed my generous hip in his hand, before coming to rest on my thigh, and I knew that I pleased him. Saw it in his eyes, felt it in the way he touched me.

His opinion, no one else’s, should matter, but knowing that he saw me that way, seeing Aaron look at me like I was a beautiful woman, one worthy of his attention, his affection, made me feel as beautiful as I ever had in my life.

No matter how many times I experienced it, I’d never get used to Aaron kissing me, would always feel off at the way his mouth captured mine.

At first I was content to receive his kiss, but then I wanted to be an active participant, kiss him back.

And so I did, kissing him with all of the emotion that I didn’t have words for, all the wonder that I didn’t want to acknowledge, all the joy that these moments with him made me feel.

It was in that haze of passionate kisses that Aaron began to move, though I only idly noticed.

Was so focused on him that I didn’t look up until my legs brushed against something.

I broke the kiss and looked back, saw that I was on the edge of Aaron’s bed.

Feeling a playfulness that I so clearly did, I fell back then slid to the middle of his bed.

He stood at the edge watching me, his cock at full attention.

I was feeling even more playful now, beautiful, daring in a way that I never was in real life. So I spread my legs, moving slowly until they were fully open.

Aaron stared down at me, his gaze even more intense, something bright enough to light the semidarkness of the room.

“You looked like you needed an invitation,” I said a moment later, my words intended to be playful, my voice coming out heavy, lusty.

“That is most definitely one,” Aaron said.

His own voice was heavy, twisted with passion, I watched him avidly as he walked around the bed to the nightstand, one hand slowly stroking his length.

I was jealous of that hand, then jealous of the thin latex that soon covered his shaft.

He circled back, taking his original place at the foot of the bed. Then, after a moment’s pause, he began to crawl toward me. Watching his body unfurl was like seeing a beautiful predator approach me. I was more than eager to be his prey.

I lay back, my knee still open in invitation as Aaron centered himself on top of me.

Everywhere our bodies touched felt like a shock of electricity exploding through me. I already thought this encounter had taken me to the highest heights I could go, but like always, Aaron was intent on proving me wrong.

I had hooked my knees against his sides, stayed there as he teased at my opening.

“Aaron…” I said on a low moan as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, lifting my hips to bring our bodies closer together.

His cock hovered at the edge of my entrance, and shifted, practically begging him without words to bring our bodies fully together.

I peeled my eyes open, locked them with his, saw the same desire swelling in his that was storming through my body.

My lids drooped but didn’t close when he centered the head of his cock against my opening.

I spread my legs even wider, silently begging.

And finally, Aaron moved, pushing himself inside me inch by inch.

When he was fully seated, I froze, clinging to him, my breath threatening to squeeze out of my lungs. I felt like I was adrift, but also knew that Aaron would keep me in place.

So I held tight and let him take me to ecstasy.