“I like the new baking outfit,” he says and I let myself enjoy the timbre of his voice and the way it twists me up inside. Even if I’ve resolved myself to never liking any of these men - after what happened to Chantelle - I can’t help but be affected by Aeron. It’s purely physical, and that alone terrifies me.
“I guess I should say thank you,” I mumble as I knead harder.
“Hmm, I can think of other ways for you to show your gratitude,” his breath fans across the back of my neck before moving along my bare shoulder and I contain the shiver that passes over me.
“I-I-I…”
“Shh, don’t worry Little Zero. You carry on while I give you another reason to appreciate me,” I feel his words vibrate through his chest as an arm snakes around my waist but he doesn’t touch me. It just hovers there, an inch separating his hand from my torso.
“I remember how responsive you were with the flower, I’ve thought about it quite a few times,” his voice is this permanent husk that threatens to ignite something within me. “Let’s see what happens this time shall we.”
His fingers grip the hem of my sweater before rising it up and he sweeps across the planes of my lower stomach. I inhale hard as I rip into the dough and try to bring it back together.
“Hold still little one,” he grips my sweater and slowly drags it up and over my head until it’s stretched over my arms. I can’t take it off seeing as I’m caked in dried flour and elbows deep in dough.
The tips of his fingers dance over my ribs and they contract under his touch, my breath staggering and falling out in bursts. My eyes flicker closed as they move up and brush across the swell of my breasts, moving over the lace of the cups. I can’t ignore the way they connect with my nipples that harden, to almost painful points and then he glides them lower.
“Aeron,” a plea to stop or a beg for something more, I have no idea but it still falls free without meaning to.
“Shh, nothing too much for our second time like this. I’m just getting to know you,” he says as his lips drop to my shoulder and his fingers skim the waistband of my shorts.
My stomach flinches and I can feel the grin forming on his face, as his fingers run around to my ass before he starts kneading. He brings one of his hands across the top of my leg, before flattening his hand over my sex. Aeron hasn’t even gone inside my shorts or panties and I can’t stop my hands from leaving the dough before winding them around his neck and his laugh rolls through me.
Taking his hands off me, he grabs my wrists gentler than I expect and pulls them away before he moves them so they end up back in the dough like before.
“One week left to go Little Zero, it’ll be a shame for you to leave before I get to explore you more… thoroughly,” he moves to the side of me and I can see the lust in his gaze. I think he really does want me, yet he isn’t going to be the one to save me.
“You won’t vouch for me, help me to stay?” I ask softly, pointless when I already know his answer.
“Can’t little one, I won’t cheapen this. In all honesty, I’m enjoying having a secret from the rest of those posers, you’ve got to save yourself. Don’t worry though, I’ve got the perfect reward in mind when you make it into the fold,” he runs his tongue up my neck before nipping at my chin. It’s fucking weird yet, it still makes my toes curl.
Listening as he moves away, I can hear the swish of the door as it’s pushed open. “I should have given you that permission long ago, I’ve got to say. I’m definitely a fan of your baking clothes,” the door swishes shut as he leaves me alone and I knead the dough more than I’ve ever done in my life.
Only this frustration is created by Aeron and it’s unlike any I’ve ever experienced before in my life.
9
A Life Saved, A Debt Owed
I wake up to a pounding noise against my brain, only it isn’
t only affecting me if Caitlyn and Millie’s grumbles and moaning are anything to go by. Sitting up, I look at the clock, it’s five am. Seriously, is this entire place on a vendetta to give us as little sleep as possible?
I get up, not even considering the fact that I’m wearing a pair of shorts that may as well be panties and a thin camisole. I’m tired, and my brain won’t function without caffeine at this time of the day.
My eyes pop out of my skull as I take in Tom in all his glory and I’m pretty sure he just rolled out of bed and I’m instantly jealous. His red hair that sticks up as though someone has run their fingers through it, dark green eyes that are shrouded by the bedroom look and a layer of stubble that only a nun wouldn’t want to run her fingers across.
“Millie,” that’s all he says and I can feel myself deflate as I take a step back and shake my head.
“I’m not Millie,” it comes out sounding like a question and I want to slap myself.
“I know your name Luna, I was simply inquiring which of the other two is Millie. She’s needed,” he says gruffly, his voice deeper than it was the last time we spoke.
A slight thrill travels through me at the fact that he knows what my name is but not my roommates and now I feel stupid for having that reaction in the first place.
“Millie, Tom’s here for you,” I call, but my eyes remain fixed on him. I’m trying to work out the reason for his visit but I can’t see all the pieces to make the necessary connections.
If this was a booty call, then he wouldn’t be asking for her by name, he’d demand the Zero and expect us to know which one he wanted. Then again, if this was a personal matter why would a Harkwright be calling for her. None of this is making any sense, I definitely require caffeine to work this little mystery out.