Page 13 of UnTrained: Volume Two
"You're trembling," he says, his voice deep and concerned. "Are you cold? Afraid?"
"Not afraid," I whisper. "Just... feeling everything. It's intense."
A smile touches his lips. "Good. I want you to feel everything." His hands frame my face, thumbs stroking my cheekbones. "But first, I need to even things up a bit."
He steps back and begins unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest inch by tantalizing inch. I watch, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath his skin, the dark trail of hair that disappears beneath his waistband. When he shrugs the shirt from hisshoulders, I can't help but stare. His body is powerful, marked with scars that tell stories I want to learn.
"May I touch you?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
His eyes darken. "Yes."
My fingers reach out tentatively, hovering just above his skin before making contact. When I finally touch him, the warmth of his body sends a jolt through me. I trace the contours of his chest, exploring the firm planes and ridges, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.
"You're beautiful too," I whisper, surprising myself with the words.
Aiden's smile deepens, something flashing in his eyes that makes my stomach flip. "Thank you," he says, his voice rougher than before.
I continue my exploration, fascinated by the differences between us—his body hard where mine is soft, strong where I feel vulnerable. When my fingers brush across a scar near his collarbone, I pause.
"How did you get this?" I ask, tracing the silvery line.
"A story for another time," he says gently, capturing my hand and bringing it to his lips. The kiss he presses to my palm is tender, reverent, making my breath catch.
Then, his fingers move down to my wrist, where they tighten.
Almost involuntarily, I tug against his hold, but there’s no give.
“Now,” he says, holding my gaze, “I want you to submit to me. If you need to use your safe word, everything stops, but unless you do, I’m in control.”
A flutter runs through my body. The shift in his tone, the tightening of his fingers around my wrist—it sends heat pooling low in my belly. This is what I've been craving, what I've been afraid to ask for directly.
"Yes, Sir," I whisper, my voice steadier than I expected.
His blue eyes darken further, and he pulls me closer, his free hand sliding around my waist. "On the bed," he commands. "On your back."
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Imove to obey, settling onto the mattress, the cool sheets against my naked skin making me shiver. I watch as Aiden unfastens his belt, the soft hiss of leather sliding through fabric loops sending a complicated thrill through me. He doesn't remove his pants, just loosens them enough to allow more movement.
When he joins me on the bed, hovering over me with his weight supported on his arms, I feel small beneath him. Not in a frightening way, but in a way that makes me feel precious, protected.
Something fierce and tender flashes across his face. He lowers himself until his chest brushes against mine, the contact sending sparks across my skin. His mouth finds my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin there. I gasp at the sensation, my head falling back to give him better access.
"That's it," he murmurs against my throat. "Let me hear you."
His teeth graze my pulse point, not quite a bite but a gentle scrape that makes me arch beneath him. My hands move to hisshoulders, feeling the muscles shift beneath my fingertips as he braces himself above me.
"Hands above your head," he commands softly.
I hesitate for just a moment before complying, stretching my arms up and crossing my wrists above my head. The position makes me feel exposed, vulnerable, but in a way that sends heat pooling between my thighs rather than fear crawling up my spine.
“Hold onto the bed frame.”
I wrap my fingers around the posts of the headboard. The cool metal feels grounding beneath my fingers, an anchor in the swirl of sensations Aiden is creating with his mouth and hands. My chest rises and falls with quickened breaths as he moves lower, lips trailing fire across my collarbone, down to the swell of my breast.
"Keep your hands there," he murmurs against my skin. "Don't let go unless I tell you to."
I nod, tightening my grip on the bed frame. This restraint—chosen, not forced—feels nothing like the bindings at the facility. There, I was helpless, powerless. Here, with Aiden, I am giving my power freely, knowing it will be returned.
