Page 35 of Significant
“I’d ruin you for another man, Elle.”He already has.The question is, would I be able to ruin him for another woman?
Aaron lifts me up, so I sit on his lap. I’m urging for more. He caresses my hair, and I close my eyes abandoning myself to him, offering him my throat to claim, as his mouth pleases my nipple. He runs his skilled fingers through my clit, massaging it at the perfect pace. I tense and rock my hips to meet his measured drives. His hand slides under my butt cheek as I press my pelvis farther into his, my fingers lost in his hair, my arms pulling him closer to me. I’m panting harder, caught in some sort of liberating trance. Wolf knows the effect he has on me, he is pushing my limits, testing my boundaries. He wants to be the only man in my mind and to mark my body with his touch, claim it, possess it. I bite my lower lip, incapable of keeping my thoughts straight. Our paces connect. Our heartbeats synchronized. Our moans melt together.
He groans, “You are mine, Elle.”
Mine.A thing I promised myself I’d never be to anyone. And yet, at this precise moment, I’m his. I wonder if he is this possessive with the women he has been with. Is it just a game? Is it because he wants to be in control? Or is it me? There is a deep connection uniting us, I feel it. I’ve never been wild, nor let my primal lust take control before.
He pulls away from me, and he positions himself behind my back. Wolf lifts my body up, so my back is touching his strong torso, reducing the distance between our bodies. His left hand cups my breast as his right hand immobilizes my waist close to him. He enters me, and we move in synchronization like a sensual dance, slow but deep. Intense.
“Say it, Elle.” He kisses my nape, taking control of the pace as I feel myself exploding. I can’t hold on anymore.
“Don’t stop.” I’m panting, not understanding why he needs me to admit those words. He doesn’t do relationships, he doesn’t do romance, feelings, engagement, but he wants possession. He has control over my body. I’m vulnerable, burning myself and yet, I know he is waiting for my word to unleash itself. To lose control. To explode.
“Elle.” His husky voice betrays his arousal and capitulating is the only option.
“I am yours.”And I’m gonna regret it.
“I never lose control but with you, it’s hard to not—”
“Lose it,” I order, driven by an animal impulse. He protests, but I order him one more time to lose it. I need all of him. No restraint. No control. Just us.
And so he does.
Our chemistry is exploding into something passionate, brutal, intensely liberating. He starts pounding me with ferocious thrusts as I yank my hips down to meet him. I grab the sheets in front of me, offering him a perfect view of my back, when he lets go of his hold on me. I’m magnetized by him. He burst me into flames. We crash into lust together, and there is no comeback. That night we lose control. He is like nothing I’ve experienced. Everything that would have been a turn-off for me, that made me feel insignificant, is with him something I crave.
He is my descent to Hell, and my flight to Heaven.
My world ignites.
He fuels my soul.
“Aaron. I can’t hold on! I can’t… I can’t—” His hands grab my waist as he pumps into me with intensity. The bed shaking, our moans getting higher and more intense, I believe the rooms surrounding us could hear our exchanges. I love the feel of him, I’m not ashamed anymore. It feels so good, so right, while I know this is wrong. My hair in his fist, he pounds harder into me, losing our primal instinct into each other. I’ve never been so free, his thrusts may be brutal, but his touch is passionate, liberating. I’m pushing his limits as well as he is pushing mine. My legs start to shake when he rolls me over so we can face each other.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. His eyebrows frown, his gaze stuck between desire and fear.
He seems afraid of breaking me by his loss of control, probably not trusting himself. I nod my head as an answer, unable to talk. His concern for me makes me believe he isn’t used to this kind of chemistry, to such passionate exchanges. Maybe I’ll be able to mark him as well as he marked me.
By allowing him to take control, he is losing it to me tonight.
He pushes in me again, staring into my eyes with deep intensity. He buries his head into my neck, his tempo increasing, my body tingling as I feel myself climax. He is taking me to the edge as I crumble beneath his touch. I’m bewitched. Dazzled. Ensnared to him.
“I want to watch you come,” he groans, his hands capturing my waist, as I arch my back with pleasure. His eyes, full of lust, are not leaving mine. I bite my lower lip and feel the heat of blissful ecstasy, the sparks of hot flashes invading my body.
We come together. Breathless. He consumes me. Enthralls me. Enraptures me.
It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known him, what matters is how our souls recognize and connect in symbiosis. It’s inexplicable. Haunting.Significant.
He has the power to heal me or to break me. He is as destructive as he is magical.
An everlasting addiction.
Cursed 7
Silence.
Neither of us speaks. Most people express themselves with words. Artists express themselves through their art. But us, it’s chemical. Our bodies expressed themselves for us. We keep on staring at the ceiling, lying on the bed, lost in our thoughts. I’ve never felt so driven by someone. I can’t see clearly when I’m next to him. He consumes me. Turns me into aches until I’m reborn. But when our physical contact breaks, he is distant. Something unapproachable. And I’m left feeling—
He jumps out of the bed without a word and heads toward the bathroom. I watch him walking away from me. Farther away. Distancing himself. He closes the bathroom door, and I hear the water of the bathroom sink running. He got what he wanted from me… now, this is over. I’m one more. My heart aches, my chest hurts, and I’ve sold my soul to Hell.
