Illicit Captor by Maggie Cole

9

Scarlet

The heavy weight of the ring no longer strangles me. I stare at my bare finger for the first time, still in shock it's gone and will never again be a noose around my neck.

Aidan leads me into the cottage, and I glance up at him, unsure and nervous about what happens next. There are no more excuses between us. It doesn't matter what blood flows through our bodies. I want Aidan. I know he wants me. There's no escaping it in this cottage with no one else around. No matter how forbidden we are to each other because of our families, it's a moot point.

I expect Aidan to kiss me, take me to the bedroom, or make another move, but he doesn't. He steers me to the kitchen and states, "We need to make breakfast."

"Oh?" I ask, trying to hide my disappointment.

Maybe I'm wrong. Perhaps he doesn't want me and only wanted me free of Tommy's grasp?

Is it possible I imagined everything between us?

"Yea, ya need to eat. Ya need your energy." He releases me and starts pulling items out of the fridge.

He places eggs and bacon on the counter, grabs the soda bread and butter, and sets a tin of baked beans on the counter. He asks, "Can ya open these for me?"

"Sure," I affirm and find the opener in the drawer, still trying to cover up my confusion.

We silently make breakfast with tension building between us, but I wonder if it's only on my part. Aidan continues to give me his intense stare but doesn't touch me.

When the food is ready, we sit at the table. He fills my plate, then sets it before me, ordering, "Eat." He prepares a plate for himself and takes the seat next to mine.

My thoughts continue to race about whether he really does like me or if it was a cruel part of his plan.

Not that I know anything about what he ultimately plans on doing with me. Yet I know he has one.

"Why aren't ya eating?" he questions.

"Oh," I say, realizing I'm playing with the eggs on my plate. So I take a bite, then sip my tea, and concentrate on my food. If I don't eat, Aidan will get angry. I manage to eat half of the food, then shove my plate away, announcing, "I'm full."

He glances at it. "Can't ya get any more bites in ya?"

"No." I shake my head.

He takes the last bite off his plate, chews and swallows, then wipes his mouth with his napkin. He tosses it on the table, glancing at my half-empty dish again, then claiming, "Okay. Ya did a good job, petal."

Petal.

Relief hits me, and I reprimand myself. It's just a word. Still, butterflies fill my belly. He locks his gaze on mine, and more tension builds between us.

I finally can't take it anymore. I rise and take the empty dishes and silverware to the kitchen. I scrape my food in the trash and wash our dishes while Aidan keeps his focus on me. I don't look at him, but I can feel it.

When I finish, I wipe my hands on the towel, set it down, and announce, "I'm going to shower."

He says nothing.

I get to the bathroom door, clutch the frame, then spin. I take a deep breath, find my courage, and ask, "Well, are ya coming with me?"

A dark expression fills Aidan's face. He drags his eyes over my body, staying quiet.

"Okay, guess not," I mutter, trying to hide my disappointment.

He scoots his chair back so fast it tips over. A loud crash fills the air, and he lunges toward me.

My heart races faster than I can ever remember, but he steps to the side and enters the bedroom.

Rejection fills me. I blink hard but stand in front of the bedroom doorway, unsure of what to say.

He goes to the window, shuts the blinds, then adds some logs to the fireplace. He steps in front of me, questioning, "Well, are we going to take that shower?"

Tingles race down my spine. I go into the bathroom, then turn on the faucet in the tub. Then I spin into Aidan's chest, frozen, unsure what to do next.

He tilts my chin up, staring down at me. I swallow hard, and he reaches for the bottom of my shirt and pulls it off me. With one hand, he pins my wrists above my head and drags his fingers down one of my arms.

I shudder, my breath hitching.

He continues trailing his fingertips down my body, over the curve of my waist, which suddenly makes me feel self-conscious. I blurt out, "I used to have a curvy waist."

He pauses, leans his face closer to mine, then slowly releases my wrists. He puts that hand on my cheek and declares, "You're beautiful, petal. This size, ten sizes bigger, whatever. Do ya understand?"

My heart beats faster. I blink hard and take a deep breath.

He gives me a chaste kiss, then unties my pajama bottoms. They fall to the floor. He reaches behind his back, tugging his T-shirt off.

Blood pounds hard between my ears. My core lights on fire, and even though I've seen him without clothes before, he still takes my breath away.

He drops his pants, then reaches behind me and adjusts the knob so the water comes out of the showerhead. He tests the water, then takes my hand, ordering, "Get in, lass."

I obey.

He steps beside me, shutting the shower curtain. He positions me in front of the water so it cascades down my back. It barely touches him, yet his body is always warm.

He reaches around my waist, tugs me into him, and presses his lips to mine. His erection grows harder against my stomach.

I tremble in his arms, kissing him back, in awe that for days I've wondered what it would feel like to have him, to be with him like this, and it's finally happening.

I expect him to take me here, but he doesn't. He pulls back, washes my hair with the same attention he gave me the first day I got here, rinses it, then gently works conditioner through the wet locks. He slides soap all over my body, and every part of me throbs, wanting him.

He washes himself quickly. He shampoos his hair and spins me out of the water momentarily. He holds me tight to his hard frame while he rinses off, then positions me back under the water. He asks, "Are ya warm?"

I nod, reach up, and lace my fingers behind his neck. I say, "You're probably not. Ya haven't really gotten any water. I'm stealing it all."

He grunts. "I'm fine, petal. Are ya ready to get out of here?"

Confusion fills me again. I thought he'd want to have sex in the shower. I blurt out, "Ya don't want to have me here?" My face heats as hot as the water.

He studies me, firmly answering, "No. I want ya in the bed the first time I take ya. I'll take a rain check for the shower." He winks.

"Oh..." New butterflies fill me as well as relief.

Aidan reaches around me and turns off the water. He grabs the towel, dries off my hair, then makes sure my entire body gets toweled off.

He quickly does the same for himself, then leads me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. The glow of the fire lights up the room. He moves me toward the bed and orders, "Lie down."

I don't think I've ever been so nervous. I've never had a man like Aidan. Tommy was old and disgusting. Before Da forced me to marry him, I dated some guys, but looking at Aidan, I realize they were only boys.

He studies me, and I clench my thighs together, trying to look confident and not squirm. His assessment doesn't last long. He quickly cages his warm, hard body over me.

"Aidan..." I whisper, unsure what I'm even saying.

He cups my cheek, tracing my jaw with his thumb, ordering, "Tell me ya want me, lass."

The nerves in my belly kick in, but I take a deep breath and nod, admitting, "I do."

"Say it, then," he demands.

"I want—"

His tongue flicks into my mouth so fast I gasp. It takes me a moment to recover, but I urgently meet his pace. He kisses me until I'm out of breath and I'm grinding my hips underneath him.

He dips his mouth to my breasts, giving attention to each one until my nipples are hard and I'm moaning, arching my back, my legs spreading wider.

From time to time, his eyes meet mine, dark, heated, full of something so tantalizing I can't understand it, except that it turns me on even more.

He stays quiet except for the occasional grunt, focused on every inch of my skin. He makes his way down my torso until my skin's on fire from his touch, and I'm writhing.

When he reaches my hips, I'm already wet. A plethora of zings rushes through my body. He commands, "Look at me."

A fire burns so hotly in his eyes, I swallow hard.

He slides a finger inside me, and I inhale sharply. He circles it, then adds another, and his thumb glides over my clit while he studies me intently.

My voice cracks. "Aidan..."

"I want to see and hear what ya sound like coming, lass," he declares, then takes his tongue and flicks it under his thumb.

"Jesus Christ!" I cry out.

His lips twitch and his eyes turn to slits. He keeps his gaze on me, his fingers positioned the same, and teases me with small flicks of his tongue.

I blink, trying to keep my eyes open, but the sensations are too powerful. Every time his tongue hits my clit, combined with his thumb pressing part of it and his fingers curling inside me, a burst of endorphins ignites inside me.

He teases me for a long time until I'm begging, "Don't stop, Aidan. Please, don't stop!"

He softly chuckles, then reaches for my mouth, shoves his thumb inside it, and sucks on my clit.

I arch my back off the bed, tug on his hair, and my entire body erupts in convulsions, and incoherent sounds fly out of me. I circle my pussy into his face, frantically trying to get every bit of what he's giving me.

A tidal wave of pleasure seizes me. I get dizzy, crying out his name, shaking, not wanting it to stop, and not remembering anything ever feeling so good. And it continues until I can't handle it anymore and the sensation becomes too strong. I push at him. "Aidan, I can't take anymore," I whisper, barely able to speak.

He lunges over me, sliding his tongue into my mouth, full of my orgasms. His large palm grips my lower thigh, lifts my leg higher, and he pushes inside me until there's no more space.

I cry out as he groans, then mutters, "Fuck, petal."

He freezes for a minute, breathing hard, and right as I start to get used to him, he begins a slow thrusting pattern.

I match his thrusts, and he increases his speed. I continue moving in tandem with him, gripping my arms around his shoulders and holding him as tight to me as possible.

My whimpers turn louder. I close my eyes, dizzy with adrenaline pounding me at the same pace he does.

He buries his face in my neck, sucking on the curve, sliding his hand behind my head and fisting my hair. He tugs my head back and then drags his teeth against my neck.

"Jesus!" I cry out. My insides spasm forcefully.

He mumbles into my neck, "Aye, petal. Like that, lass."

"A-a-Aidan!"

I barely hear him declare, "Fuck, your pussy's tight."

More adrenaline beats into me.

He puts his face in front of mine, his hand on my chin, and holds it, demanding, "Open your eyes."

I lock them on him, shuddering further at the crazed expression within them.

He thrusts faster, his breath ragged.

A tidal wave of pleasure and sensations I've never felt rips through me. And I can't look at him anymore. My vision blurs, turning white. Sweat coats my skin as heat annihilates me.

"Fuck," he mutters through his teeth. His erection spreads my walls wider and pumps into me with accelerated force.

We cling to each other tighter. Our sweat merges, and he buries his head in my neck as his body violently convulses against me until everything is over, and it's just our ragged, hot breath on each other's skin.