Pretty Thing (Naughty Things 1)

“I’ve always loved you. I just need to say that right now. It’s always been you in my fantasies, Kali. I can’t even count the number of times I fell asleep thinking about you or the number of happily-ever-after daydreams I had for us.”

“Did it look like this?” I ask, still anxious.

“No,” he says. “Well, yeah,” he amends, then laughs a little. “I did all kinds of dirty things to you in some of them. But mostly they were about being with you. I want to be with you.” He pauses. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Always,” I say. “I’ve always wanted you.”

He reaches his hand towards my face, brushing his knuckles down my cheek, then my neck, pausing at the top of my breast. He grins. Wickedly. Like a man about to undress me. And then he does.

One button at a time is popped open on my blouse until he reaches the waistband of my slacks and has to pull my shirt out to finish. Then he opens up my shirt and places his hands over my breasts, squeezing softly.

I stare up at his face the entire time. Wanting to memorize it. Wanting to witness every expression and emotion as he does all this.

“Now me,” he says, taking my hands and bringing them up to the collar of his shirt. I think I hold my breath as I unbutton each button and pull his shirt out of his jeans. When I open him up the first thing I see is the tattoos covering his heart. They’re words. I knew this. I saw him last weekend, so I knew the tattoos were words, but I’d forgotten about them and seeing his body again right now, I suddenly feel… a little lost, I guess.

I touch the first letter, then trace the whole sentence with my finger, reading it out loud. “‘If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster—And treat those two impostors just the same.’” I look up at him and meet his eyes. “That’s beautiful.”

“It’s about you,” he says.

“No, it isn’t.” I laugh. “It’s Rudyard Kipling talking to his son about being true to oneself.”

“I know that,” Aiden says. “But when I got it, I chose the words for you. Because I dreamed one day you could be mine but I didn’t want to lose everything with that gain. So if you’re wondering why it took me so long, that’s why. I wanted to win, but not at the expense of others.”

“You wanted me to come to you,” I say.

“No. That’s not it at all. I just wanted it to happen naturally. If it was meant to be, it was meant to be. Because if it did happen naturally, then I knew that we’d all still be friends in the end.”

“And if it didn’t?” I ask.

He frowns a little. “I tried to be grateful for what I had. To be grateful that you were my friend. And if that’s all you were ever gonna be, I’d feel a little cheated. But I just accepted that things would work out and tried to live my life. And look,” he says, pulling my blouse down my arms so it flutters to the floor. He palms my breasts again, squeezing them harder this time. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” I echo, pushing his shirt over his wide, muscled shoulders. There’s more script tattoos. More writing. Probably more poems. And I want to read each one of them. Get lost in the words written across his body.

But later.

Now I just want him.

He closes his eyes for an extended moment. Like he’s enjoying the feeling of my fingertips tracing words across his chest. I watch him. I watch every expression, every twitch and see every desire, every craving before he opens them a second later.

He’s still holding the vibrator in his hand. It’s still humming, and even though that noise seemed to fade into the background since we left the bathroom, it’s back now. Reminding us what will happen next.

We reach for each other’s pants at the same. My fingers fumbling with his button, his fingers deftly popping mine.

We pull down zippers, and reach inside. I feel two things in that moment. His fingers slipping past the waistband of my panties and sliding between my legs. And his hard, thick cock in my palm.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Absolutely yes,” I reply.

He turns me so the back of my knees are pressed up against the bed, then lowers himself down into a crouch, pulling down my pants and underwear at the same time.

He leans in, grabbing hold of my thighs as he presses his mouth right between my legs. His tongue darts out, sweeping up between my pussy lips until he finds my clit. He flicks his tongue, hitting my sweet spot each time, and my fingers automatically thread through his hair. Fisting it and holding him there.