Chapter 6 Riding Wild

Aidan didn’t let her catch her breath. He moved over her, lips grazing the spot under her ear. She gasped, still reeling, as he settled between her thighs. One smooth thrust and he was inside her, filling her. The stretch stole her air.

“Fuck, Amelia,” he groaned against her neck. “So tight. Perfect.”

He paused, then started moving—slow, deep strokes that lit her up. Then faster, harder, each thrust sending heat through her core.

“Oh fuck, yes,” she moaned, nails raking his shoulders. “Goddamn it.”

“Love that mouth,” he rasped, kissing her hard, all teeth and hunger, their bodies slamming together.

Then he slowed, breathing ragged, eyes locked on hers.

“Not done with you yet.”

He pulled out, making her whimper, and slid down her body. His mouth brushed her stomach before he settled between her legs again.

“Already soaked,” he said, voice rough. He looked up, smirking. “Get up here. Sit on my face.”

Millie froze. “What?”

Sit on his face? Heat flooded her cheeks. She’d never done that—never been that exposed.

“You heard me.” His grin sharpened. “I want you riding my mouth. Now.” He patted his chest, then tapped his lips. “Move.”

Her stomach flipped, nerves battling the ache between her thighs. She wasn’t used to orders like that, raw and unfiltered. But the way he stared at her lit something wild inside her.

Swallowing hard, she climbed over him, thighs shaking as she straddled his chest.

“Like this?” she asked.

“Higher,” he said, hands on her hips, pulling her forward. “No hovering. Sit on me.”

Millie drew a shaky breath and eased up until she hovered over his mouth. She felt bare, wide open, pulse racing. His stare burned into her, daring her.

Slowly, she lowered herself.

His tongue swept over her clit, and she jolted. “Fuck!” Her hips jerked; she grabbed the headboard.

“Grind,” he growled into her. “Ride my face.”

His tongue circled slowly, then fast, pressure perfect. His hands dragged her down until she sat fully on his mouth.

“Oh god, Aidan—” Her back arched, pleasure slamming through her. First time like this—nothing else compared.

“You taste so good,” he groaned, sucking her clit, licking long and hard. “Harder, Amelia. Move.”

One hand steered her hips; the other slid two fingers inside her, curling just right with every stroke of his tongue.

“Aidan—” she moaned, hips rolling now, chasing it.

“Perfect,” he rasped, pulling back only long enough to speak. “Look at you shaking. Don’t stop.”

He attacked again, tongue relentless, fingers pumping deep.

“Fuck!” Her thighs shook hard, her hips grinding on instinct, and her thighs were trembling violently.

“That’s it, Amelia.”

Her back arched, eyes rolling back, and the whole world narrowing to Aidan’s mouth. She ground against him, moans spilling out in a frantic chant of his name.

“Aidan—Aidan—”

Pleasure crashed over her. She came hard, pulsing around nothing, thighs shaking as she broke apart.

Gasping, she glanced down and slammed her eyes shut. He sucked at her, greedy, drawing out every aftershock until she whimpered and shook, fingers white on the headboard. Too much. She collapsed sideways, chest heaving, skin damp.

Aidan moved up her body. His tongue traced her lips in a slow, filthy kiss that tasted like her. Smirking, he cupped her face, thumb on her lip, other hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise.

“So sweet,” he murmured. “Came so hard. Not done.”

Still throbbing, she felt him spread her thighs. One deep thrust and he filled her, stretching oversensitive walls. She cried out, her back bowing off the bed.

“Aidan—I can’t—”

“You can,” he growled, sweat sliding down his temple. He pushed deeper.

She whimpered when he pulled back, her body clutching at emptiness. He reached for the nightstand, grabbing a foil packet and rolling on the condom, his eyes never leaving hers. Seconds later, he surged back into her, gripping her left leg and lifting it high, pressing it toward her head. The angle was dizzying, but it let him hit her G-spot with every thrust, sparking pleasure that made her head spin.

Each thrust lit her up, pleasure sharp and relentless.

“Fuck, you’re flexible,” he rasped. He thrust hard and fast, the bed creaking beneath them. Their skin collided with sweet, erotic noises—wet, rhythmic slaps that filled the room, amplifying their intimacy. His fingers dug into her thigh, the other hand sliding up to cup her breast, thumb flicking over her nipple.

Millie’s moan tore through the room, her hips rocking desperately to meet his, her body chasing the pleasure despite her overstimulation.

“Oh, fuck, I’m coming again,” she gasped, her voice breaking as another climax ripped through her, her core clenching so tightly around him that she felt him shudder. She could hardly believe it—her body was this alive, this aroused, responding to him with such intensity.

Then her back arched off the bed, her eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure crashed over her, her nails raking down his back before she surrendered completely.

Aidan groaned, his thrusts growing erratic, his control fraying. “Fuck, Amelia, I'm right behind you,” he growled, and he drove deeper and faster into her, chasing his release in time with hers. With one final thrust, he let go, his body trembling, riding out his own release.

Beads of sweat trailed down Aidan’s temple, and he didn’t stop, riding out the waves of his climax, spilling into her with a final, shuddering thrust. Only when the last pulse of his release subsided did he collapse beside her, his chest heaving.

They lay there, tangled and breathless, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. Aidan eased out of her slowly, then reached to discard the condom with a casual flick toward the nearby bin. He rolled back to her, tugging Millie close with a possessive arm around her waist. “Come here,” he said, like he wasn’t ready to let her go.

His face nuzzled into her hair. “Love the smell of your shampoo,” he murmured softly.

“Dollar store special,” Millie said quietly, staring at the blank wall. And she almost smirked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Aidan said, lips brushing her ear. “Makes me want to go again.”

She turned her head, raising a brow. “You sure you’re up for it already?”

He chuckled, his hand tightening on her waist. “Oh, Amelia. Keep looking at me like that, and you’ll find out.”

The sheets were a mess again, and soon after, their bodies fell into that desperate rhythm. Two rounds later, Aidan poured them wine. There was food too, more than enough to keep them going. By the time the sky dimmed, exhaustion pulled them under.

Amelia curled against him, her body fitting into his like it belonged there, even though she knew better.

Aidan’s arm draped over her. “This is nice,” he whispered.

Millie didn’t respond, letting his breathing lull her to sleep. She’d carry this moment with her—not because it was love, but because it was close enough to make her wonder. And that was dangerous enough.