Aiden rolled to his feet and stalked over to me, holding out a hand.
I let him help me up, and when he dipped his head down to my ear, I let out a shaky breath.
“Room. Now,” he whispered.
I pulled my head back and held his gaze. “Too far.”
And it was far. The other side of the resort.
Aiden sucked in a breath, his eyes darting over my shoulder to the man in the gym. He’d slid big black headphones over his head, walking at a sedate pace on one of the treadmills. He wasn’t paying us a single bit of attention.
I slid my hand up under Aiden’s sleeveless shirt. “I’ll leave that bathroom door unlocked,” I whispered, lips brushing against the hard line of his jaw.
With a quick pivot and a pounding heart, I wondered for the millionth time how this man brought out a side of me that never seemed to exist before him.
He softened me, gave me love and acceptance for being exactly who I was. He never, ever tried to change me.
He took care of me, tugging a sweetness into our life that I’d never known. He took care of Anya and now three-month-old Violet in the same way.
And without a doubt, he yanked at whatever wildness I kept tightly in check for all the years of my life before he came into it.
My breath was coming in excited pants when I walked into the lush, private bathroom next to the locker room entrances. It was probably meant for a young mother who needed to nurse, and considering I had a baby at home—getting spoiled rotten by Logan and Paige for a long weekend so we could take our delayed honeymoon—it wasn’t too far off the mark that I might have needed it for … something else.
In my head, I counted to fifteen, and when the doorknob moved down, I backed further into the room. Aiden crowded the space immediately, the sheer force of his will making my head spin.
He wanted me—always.
And when he clicked the lock behind him, my lips curled into a satisfied smile.
“Hands on the counter,” he whispered.
I blew out a slow breath and complied instantly, the quiet command in his voice tempering the hot lick down my spine that wanted me to argue with him.
Maybe against the door, or him seated on the small couch against the wall.
But as my husband’s tall, muscular frame bracketed me from behind, his fingers curling into the waistband of my shorts, I let my instinct melt into anticipation.
He tugged my shorts down with a rough jerk, palming my backside with one hand, sliding the other up the line of my back. His hand coasted up my neck, over my shoulder, cupping my jaw and tugging my mouth to his for a fierce kiss as he pushed two fingers between my legs.
I whimpered into his mouth, the feel of him was so perfect. Aiden knew exactly how to touch me, exactly when to press, when to take things harder and faster, when to coax the pleasure from my body in a slow build.
This was no slow build.
It was immediate and incendiary. His hand moved from my face and pushed into the front of my sports bra, filling his hand with the weight of my breast, thumbing at the tip, still sensitive from Violet’s birth a few months earlier. He loved my extra curves.
He groaned quietly when my tongue slid over his, when I nipped at the edge of his lips.
He curled his fingers inside me, and I rocked my hips.
“Oh shit,” I moaned.
“Quiet,” he instructed. “Or they’ll kick us out of our honeymoon for public indecency.”
Aiden pulled his hand away, gripping my hair in a tight fist after he tugged his own shorts down just far enough. His gaze locked on mine in the mirror, and I tried—I really, really tried—to keep my eyes open as he pushed into me, but my eyelids fluttered shut at the big, hot press of him.
“Is this what you were thinking about?” he asked. He was moving so slow, and I pushed my hips backward. He stilled them with a strong hand curled around my body. “Ah-ah, I’m choosing today.”
“Yes,” I moaned. “Please.”
“Is this why you like to push me so hard when we’re doing things like that?” he whispered, sliding his hand from my hip, over my waist, and along my back. “Because you know how crazy you make me when you look at me the way you do?”
I couldn’t even answer, my body was shaking again, but this time, from hanging on the razor edge of whatever precipice he was dangling me from.
“When you’re challenging me,” he continued, pulling his hips back until he was almost all the way out of me. I moaned. “When you’re testing me, when you’re looking like a fucking dream—so strong and amazing and gorgeous.”
“Aiden.” I dropped my head, my toes curling helplessly.
He curled his chest over my back, kissing the edge of my shoulder. “I love you,” he said.
And he snapped forward, the sharp slap of his body against mine echoed in the room, only drowned out by the sounds yanked from both of us.
“I love you,” I gasped, my breath stuttering, “too, oh, please.”
There was no finessing this to last long, no slow build, it was a bright, hot explosion. He moved hard, and I pushed back to meet it. It was sweaty and fast and furious, pulsing drums of pleasure that started down in my toes and snapped up in white hot detonations that had my back arching when it finally stretched over my whole body.
Aiden made three more hard pushes of his body, coming with a deep groan, and I had to arch up on my toes to meet the brute force of it, and when he sank over me, he exhaled an incredulous laugh.
I grinned, wiping my sweat soaked forehead against my arm. He dropped a gentle kiss onto my back, helped turn me around, and with a shit-eating grin on his face, he leaned down to tug my shorts back into place.
“Feeling pretty good about yourself?” I asked, tugging on his shirt until he came down to give me a kiss.
He hummed against my lips. “Damn straight. It looked like you about blacked out.”
We kissed again, slower and sweeter, and Aiden curled his arms around me, exhaling heavily when I was wrapped in his embrace.
I sighed, nestling my head under his chin. “Best honeymoon ever.”
He chuckled. “We don’t know how to relax, though, do we?”
I pulled back and gave him a raised eyebrow look. “What do you think that was?”
Aiden’s smile was broad and big and happy. “Fair enough.”
“And we definitely can’t do things like that at work.”
He pushed some sweaty tendrils of hair off my face. “No, we cannot.”
“And Anya is a bit too observant for her own good, so we can’t do spontaneous bathroom sex at home either.”
“No, we cannot,” he said around a grin.
“I think we’re honeymooning perfectly well,” I told him. “We’re just … doing things a little differently than most people do.”
“That sounds about right for us.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “You ready to go shower? We could clean up, get some lunch, find a hike to do before dinner.”
I smiled. “You going to race me to the top or something if we do?”
His eyes gleamed.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.