Page 11 of Lust & Lies

NOELLE

HIS MOUTH MOVED AGAINST mine in a tender caress that nearly brought tears to my eyes. When my lips parted, he didn’t hesitate. His tongue slipped inside and found mine, stroking against it in a rhythm that sent shivers rippling down my spine.

Each glide was a tease, a promise. And when he kissed me deeper, coaxing my tongue into a slick, heated dance, I damn near moaned. The ache low in my belly twisted tight. My thighs clenched.

The kiss turned more passionate, and the ache inside me burned brighter. His hand slid up to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair as he held me close, guiding the kiss with a quiet authority that melted away my sadness and frustration, leaving me with only one thing on my mind.

Him.

I followed his lead, tilting my head, giving in to him completely, surrendering everything to this kiss, to this moment. His mouth claimed mine with more heat, more hunger, more force.

His tongue slid against mine in a rhythm that was more sin than sweetness. My thighs pressed tight, the pressure building fast. A needy sound crawled up my throat and slipped from my parted lips, part sigh, part whimper, part plea for more.

And he drank it down like he’d been waiting for it, starving for it. His other hand slipped around my waist, pulling me in until there was nothing between us. But that wasn’t enough for my husband. He needed more.

My breath hitched as I was pulled off the stool, lifted as if I weighed nothing. There was no warning. Just me off the seat and into his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, shock rippling through me at how easily he held me.

One of his hands slid under my ass, gripping tight.

The other stayed at the back of my head, fingers buried in my hair, holding me like I was something priceless he refused to drop.

Being held like that, high off the floor, wrapped around him, entirely at his mercy, had my head spinning and my core clenching, wanting to be filled.

He turned with me in his arms, lips still devouring mine. I felt the counter against the back of my legs, seconds before I felt him sliding our plates aside with one sweeping motion. They scraped against the counter and then...

Crash!

Something shattered. I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t care. All I cared about was this man. This kiss. My ass met the counter. Then he was lowering me, guiding me down, his body following me in my descent.

All the while, he never ceased kissing me senseless, lips demanding and full of hunger. My back met the cool surface of the counter. His weight settled over me, pinning me as I arched into him.

I clutched his shoulders, nails biting into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against mine, rough and demanding, like he couldn’t get enough of me. I gasped when he pulled me to the edge of the counter, parting my thighs so he could step between them.

And then I felt it. I felt him. Hard, thick, and ready, pressing against my core, making me wish there were no clothes between us. My arms locked around his neck, holding him closer as I lifted my hips, grinding my body against that hardness I craved.

The sound that tore from his throat... Fuck! It was half growl, half moan, full of raw desire that had my pussy dripping wet, aching to be filled. He ground that thing against me, causing my body to jerk against his.

“Aiden...” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for, just knowing I needed something, anything... his cock, his fingers, his mouth, all of him.

He pulled back just enough to look down at me, eyes dark with lust, a look that said he was one heartbeat away from losing control.

“Keep grinding against me like that,” he rasped, voice thick with desire. “And I’m going to make a mess in my pants, love.”

I rolled my hips as I whispered, “Don’t make a mess in your pants, make a mess on me... in me.”

Where those words came from, I had no idea. But they were out, and I was pretty sure I could back them up.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, eyes drifting shut as I rolled against him again, feeling his cock throb against my core.

He removed his arms from around me and placed them on the counter beside my head, caging me in. I watched him inhale deeply, like he was trying to calm himself. I didn’t want him calm. I wanted him wild.

“I want you,” I whispered.

His gaze snapped to mine. There was that lust I craved! I saw it in his eyes; he wanted the same thing I wanted. But he was holding back.

“Baby,” he started.

“I want you, Aiden,” I repeated.

He swallowed, gaze roaming over me.

“I want you, too, love. I want you so fucking bad.” His eyes returned to mine. “But not like this.”

“Not on the counter? Okay. Let’s move to the couch.”

He chuckled low and dark. “No, baby. Not like this. Not until I know you truly want me. Not just because your body says so, but because your heart says so too.”

What the hell?

“My heart consents,” I told him.

“No, love. It doesn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure it does,” I said, feeling like I was begging for the dick.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. A sweet kiss that irritated the hell out of me. I didn’t want sweet right now. Sweet Aiden was all fine and dandy. But right now, I wanted savage Aiden.

“I’d rather you kiss me somewhere lower,” I mumbled as he pulled away from me, stepping from between my legs.

Ugh! He was really ending things like this. He grabbed my hands and helped me sit up.

“I shouldn’t have let it go that far,” he told me.

“Going too far isn’t the problem. The problem is, you shouldn’t have let it end like that. All girls love a happy ending, not a tragic one.” I knew I was pouting, but I couldn’t help it. “It’s rude to leave a girl sexually frustrated.”

“I know, baby. Trust me, I know.”

My gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants. I nearly reached for it, hating that we were really about to let that hard-on go to waste.

“If you want this and I want it, why can’t we...”

He cut me off with, “Because you don’t remember me, love.”

“You’re my husband.”

“But you don’t remember that. Though you want me right now, tomorrow, or a few days from now, you could end up regretting this. And I don’t think I could handle that. More importantly, I don’t think you could handle it.”

My gaze searched his. All I saw was truth and sincerity in his dark eyes. He was pulling back for me. He was holding back for me. Everything this man did was for me. How could I not start to fall in love with him... again?

I still wanted the dick, though. But he was right. Though I was pushing my doubts aside and choosing to believe in him, believe in us, I still had some reservations. We shouldn’t introduce intimacy into our relationship until all my doubts faded.

“I guess that makes sense,” I told him.

“You guess?” he said, head cocked to the side.

“I guess,” I repeated.

Smiling, he intertwined his fingers with mine.

“Don’t for a second think I don’t want you, Ms. Park.” He leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. “It’s taking every ounce of strength I possess not to strip you naked and bury every inch of me deep inside you,” he rasped, sending my pussy into a spiral of need.

I pushed at his chest, making him take a step back.

“You can’t talk like that and expect me not to want to be fucked, Aiden Park.”

His grin was sinful.

“It’s not funny,” I complained.

“I know, baby.”

“Yet you said it anyway,” I huffed.

“I’m sorry, love.”

I shook my head. “Actions have consequences. Since you got me all riled up and plan to leave me unsatisfied, you should at least let me see it.”

“See it?” he asked.

“Don’t play shy. I want to see it.”

His eyes widened. “It?” he asked.

I nodded. “All of it.”

“Noelle...”

“Noelle, nothing. Let me see it, and I’ll forgive you for leaving me with blue clit.”

His mouth dropped open, and then he burst out laughing. I found myself chuckling, too.

“You know, like blue balls, except I have a clit,” I explained.

He laughed even harder, clutching his side. “What is wrong with you?” he asked, still laughing. “You’re so fucking silly.”

“I’m so fucking serious, Mr. Park. Come on. Whip it out.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, right now. Right here. Unless you’re shy and want me to do it,” I said, cocking my head to the side, matching his posture.

“Really? You’ll do it?” he questioned, looking like he didn’t believe me.

I could show him better than I could tell him. I hooked my finger in the loop of his pants and tugged, pulling him closer. Eyes still on his, I began undoing his pants. The smile had faded from his face and eyes.

That look of intense hunger was returning. My fingers found the zipper, easing it down inch by inch, the metal teeth parting with a soft rasp that sliced through the thick tension crackling between us.

I looked up. His gaze was glued to me, dark, half-lidded, every muscle in his jaw tight as he fought to stay still. I slipped my hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, dipping lower and lower until I found what I was looking for, and...

Oh. My. Gosh!

Heat met my palm. Rock solid heat. Thick heat. Pulsing heat. Mouth-watering heat. For a second, I just sat there, holding it. Was I afraid to free it? Afraid of what I’d see? Afraid of what I’d do once I saw it? I didn’t know. All I knew was I didn’t want to let it go.

“Don’t know what to do with it?” Aiden rasped.

My gaze rose to his. I saw the challenge in his dark eyes. The dare. The belief that I wouldn’t follow through. Even if I hadn’t planned on following through before, I damn sure would now.

Gripping his thick length, I tugged, freeing him from his pants while staring him in his eyes. I smirked at his reaction. His lips parted. His jaw tensed. His hands fisted at his sides. I gave him a gentle squeeze and watched him shiver.

“Now, who doesn’t know what to do?” I asked before staring down at his cock.

Where the fuck did all that come from? My lips parted, but no words emerged. I thought I’d been gripping the majority of him. But I was only holding a portion of the base. I stroked up, approaching the tip. Damn, even the tip was thick and wide.

“I may not remember much,” I muttered, eyeing his veined length. “But I remember a rumor that Asian men weren’t hung.” Not like this.

“Just a myth,” he groaned as I trailed my thumb over his tip.

Yeah, that was definitely a myth. And my husband was proof. I stroked down, loving the way he pulsed against my palm. All of this had been inside me at some point, in my pussy, in my mouth, maybe in my ass too. I couldn’t remember. But I was eager to see if my body did.

“Ms. Park,” he groaned.

My gaze returned to his. “If you can’t handle it, just say so,” I teased.

He swallowed. I squeezed harder as I stroked his cock. His chest rose and fell faster now. My thumb grazed the tip again. He hissed between his teeth. His hips jerked forward as his eyes fluttered shut.

Then he gripped my wrist, forcing me to stop. When he opened his eyes, I knew he was close to losing it and fucking me right here on this counter. Yes, please. Do it. Right here. Right now.

“You must be exhausted,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

The fuck?

“I’m not.”

“You should get some rest while...” He swallowed. “While I bring the luggage in and clean up the plates I broke.”

Fuck that luggage and them plates!

“What about this?” I asked, squeezing his cock again, causing him to jerk, thrusting against my palm.

“Noelle,” he groaned. “We can’t.”

“You sure?” I said, refusing to beg for the dick.

“I’m sure.”

Damn. Damn. Damn.

I released him. “Okay.”

His gaze searched mine.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to force you,” I told him.

“It’s not that love,” he started.

“I should rest, remember?” I pulled my wrist free of his grip. “All this memory lost has me exhausted.”

I know I sounded petty, but horniness would do that to a girl.

“Baby, I...”

“Which way is my bedroom?” I interrupted, tone laced with frustration.

He sighed. “I’ll lead the way.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see him putting that anaconda back in his pants. So much hard cock going to waste. That should be illegal.

“When you’re truly ready,” he started as he zipped his pants. “I won’t hesitate to...”

“No worries. I’ll take care of it myself,” I interrupted, lifting my hand and fluttering my fingers in his face. “I have these, remember? Lead the way to the bedroom so I can finish what you started.”

Perhaps I was trying to guilt him into fucking me. Or maybe I was trying to push all his buttons, hoping it would lead to angry sex. It didn’t really matter because it didn’t work. He led me from the kitchen down a hall, around a corner, to a bedroom.

“This is a guest room. I want to check the main bedroom and ensure it’s ready before I take you there. But you can relax in here and watch television for now,” he told me.

Fuck TV. I wanted dick.

“Okay.” I stared around the room. It was cute, with a full-size bed, cute little bedside tables, a small television, and a bookshelf with no books.

“Do you need anything before I head outside?” he asked.

Got cock?

“Nope,” I told him.

He took a step back, gaze still on me. I moved toward the bed, eyes still on him. He continued backing up, watching me the whole time. I unbuttoned my pants and began unzipping them.

My husband turned and fled the room like I was Medusa or something. The door shut with a resounding thud. He was really going to make me take care of this myself. What was the damn point in having all that cock if he wasn’t going to use it?

He claimed he wanted to help me have a stress-free life while I healed. Right now, memory loss wasn’t what had me stressed the hell out. My husband refusing to give me that cock was.

Ugh!