Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Aiden still felt the same burning dislike and resentment when he looked at him. This man was still his captor. He was still the same arrogant dick he’d come to hate. Aiden hadn’t suddenly started liking him just because they’d had sex.
He just wanted to kiss him.
The thought—the desire—made him sigh inwardly. For fuck’s sake.
“Good morning!” he said, trying to ignore the horrible butterflies that were fluttering all over his stomach.
The asshole ignored him.
Aiden felt the familiar desire to introduce his fist to Zain’s mouth. Unfortunately, his desire to put his mouth on that mouth was far stronger.
“Back home it’s not very polite not to say anything when people tell you good morning,” Aiden said, walking closer. “Are things different here?”
When Zain finally deigned to look at him, his gaze was unreadable. He looked about as approachable as a stone gargoyle.
Aiden still wanted to kiss him. He wanted to touch him. God, this man was such an unfeeling, problematic mess, but Aiden itched to touch him. He wanted to slide his fingers under Zain’s impeccable white cuff and trace the veins and muscles of his wrist, feel his pulse beat under his thumb. He wanted to feel him up. Badly.
Aiden closed his eyes for a moment, exasperated with himself.
Maybe indulging this stupid crush would cure him of it. Overexposure was a thing, right?
“Are you going to stand there all morning?” Zain said. “Sit down.”
Aiden sat down.
In Zain’s lap.
“Hi,” he said, cradling Zain’s face with his hands and giving him a beaming smile. He knew his smiles annoyed Zain for some reason. The dick seemed to like making everyone miserable, so Aiden was determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing him scared and sad.
A muscle by Zain’s left eye twitched. “Remove your butt from my lap,” he said, in a suspiciously conversational voice.
Aiden might have been more intimidated if he hadn’t known what this man felt like inside of him. That knowledge was surprisingly emboldening.
“No thanks,” Aiden said. “I’m pretty comfy here.”
Zain attempted to dump him off his lap as he had the previous evening, but Aiden was prepared this time around. He twined his arms around Zain’s shoulders and clung to him like a baby koala, burying his face in Zain’s neck, as he resisted the attempts to dislodge him.
“Let go of me,” Zain finally ground out when he seemed to realize the futility of it.
Aiden pressed his cheek against Zain’s stubbled throat, trying not to breathe deeply. Jesus, how did this dick always smell so good?
“Don’t want to,” he said honestly before lifting his head. When Zain pinned him with an icy glare, Aiden gave him his sweetest smile. “It’s your own fault. You smell too good. Is this your aftershave? That would be weird because you look like you haven’t shaved in days. Your stubble is closer to a beard, which definitely didn’t used to be my thing—I always thought it was lazy, but you rearranged my worldview and apparently now I like it and it’s so ridiculous I want to bitch-slap myself—”
Zain kissed him.
Aiden’s brain short-circuited.
Zain’s mouth. Zain’s mouth was on his mouth. Zain was kissing him—if that even could be called a kiss. It felt more like an assault, aggressive and bruising, almost hateful. Zain crushed his lips, sucking hard and biting them, and then his tongue was practically in Aiden’s throat, as if he was attempting to choke Aiden with it, punish him for making him want him.
It was beyond overwhelming, it shouldn’t have felt good—it was objectively a horrible, selfish kiss, with no care for Aiden’s pleasure—but perversely, that only turned Aiden on. The force of Zain’s lust, the lack of control and finesse he displayed was more arousing than any soft, sensual kisses would have been. He even loved the feeling of helplessness, the punishing grip Zain had on his chin. He wanted to be crushed by this man, wanted to choke on his tongue and on his cock, and swallow every drop of his come, wanted this man to fuck him into unconsciousness, until Aiden was nothing but a vessel for his cock.
Christ, his own thoughts and wants creeped him out, but he couldn’t stop wanting that. Couldn’t stop wanting him. Wanting seemed like such an inadequate word for this all-consuming hunger, the desire to swallow, to devour, to consume.
He moaned in protest when Zain wrenched his mouth away. No!
“More,” Aiden said, kissing Zain’s jaw desperately. “Let’s fuck—please, please. I wanna fuck.” Wanna fuck sounded a lot less embarrassing than saying I want you inside me, which was what he really wanted. God, just thinking about the way Zain had felt inside him, huge and overwhelming, made his hole twitch and squeeze around nothing, eager to experience it again.
A strong hand gripped his chin hard and forced him to look at the other man.