Page 17 of Price of Victory (The Saints of Westmont U #5)

“I know exactly what this is,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. There was something fierce and possessive in his gaze, but also tender. “Let me take care of you, Rhett. Let me show you how good this can be.”

When his mouth finally, finally found where I needed him most, I saw stars.

Actually saw them, bright bursts of light behind my closed eyelids as pleasure crashed over me in waves.

He was skilled, devastatingly so, using his tongue and lips and the gentle edge of his teeth to drive me toward madness.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured against me, the vibration of his voice sending shock waves through my system. “Even better than I imagined, and I’ve imagined this so many times.”

I was trembling, my hands fisted in the sheets as I tried to ground myself. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, every touch sending electricity racing through my veins. When he did something particularly interesting with his tongue, I couldn’t stop the broken cry that tore from my throat.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice rough with his own arousal. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear you.”

He was relentless but never rough, strategic in the way he built me up, reading my body like sheet music he’d been studying for years.

When I got close to the edge, he would ease back, kissing my thighs, my hip bones, anywhere but where I needed him most, until I was writhing beneath him, desperate for the climax.

“Please,” I finally gasped, beyond caring how desperate I sounded. “Aiden, please, I need…”

“What do you need?” he asked, lifting his head to look at me. His lips were swollen and slick, and the sight sent another jolt of arousal through me. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I whispered, the word torn from somewhere deep in my chest. “I want you. I need you to…”

But I couldn’t finish the sentence because he was back to work, taking me into his mouth with a hunger that stole my breath.

This time, he didn’t ease back, didn’t make me wait.

He worked me with single-minded determination, one hand splayed across my stomach to hold me down, the other hand stroking his cock, his mouth wrapped so tightly around my hard cock.

I shattered. Completely, utterly, with a force that left me gasping his name. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain, waves of it crashing over me until I was boneless and shaking beneath him.

He worked me through it, gentle now, until I was too sensitive to handle any more contact. When he finally lifted his head, I was breathing hard, my vision still spotty from the intensity of it.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathed when I could finally speak again.

Aiden worked his cock harder, his shoulders trembling, his bicep curling, and his fist shaking mercilessly until hot cum splattered over my thighs. His lips were shiny with saliva and cum and his eyes glassy with the pleasure of the orgasm.

He crawled back up my body, settling beside me and pulling me against his chest. I could feel his heart racing, could feel the evidence of his own arousal pressed against my hip, hard and insistent.

“That was…” I started, then trailed off because there weren’t words for what had just happened between us.

“I know,” he whispered, his fingers stroking through my hair. “I know.”

We lay there in the golden lamplight, skin to skin, and I felt something fundamental shift between us. This wasn’t just sex; it wasn’t just a physical release. This was a connection.

Whatever happened next, whatever complications arose from this moment, I knew I would never be the same. He had marked me, claimed me, in ways that went far deeper than skin.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of belonging to someone else.

Afterward, we lay tangled together in my narrow dorm bed, both of us breathing hard and trying to process what had just happened. Aiden’s arm was around me, holding me against his chest, and I could feel his heart gradually slowing to a normal rhythm.

I lifted my head to look at him, taking in his disheveled hair and the satisfied expression on his face. He looked different somehow, less like the polished performer I was used to and more like the person I’d glimpsed during our late-night conversation.

“So what now?” I asked.

“Now? Now I’m going to lie here and try not to look too smug about the fact that I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“About how good we’d be together. About how much you wanted this, even when you were pretending you didn’t.” He smirked anyway.

I should have been annoyed by his cockiness, but instead, I found myself smiling. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet here you are, naked in bed with me.”

“Here I am,” I agreed, settling more comfortably against his chest.

He pulled me closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. “For what it’s worth, that was even better than I imagined. And I have a very good imagination.”

“Aiden?”

“Yeah?”

“This doesn’t solve everything, you know. Between us, between our families. It doesn’t make any of that go away.”

He was quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on my back.

“Maybe not,” he said finally. “But it changes things. At least for me.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet. But it does.” He tilted my chin up so I was looking at him. “I’m not walking away from this, Rhett. From you. I hope you know that.”

I wanted to ask him what that meant, wanted to push for more details about what this meant for us going forward. But I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and the warmth of his body against mine was making it hard to think clearly.

“I should probably get some sleep,” I said reluctantly. “Early practice tomorrow.”

“Right. I should go.”

But neither of us moved. We stayed there in the quiet of my dorm room, holding each other in the aftermath of something that felt significant and life-changing and terrifying all at once.

Whatever this was, whatever we were now, there was no going back. The line had been crossed, the bridge burned, and I wasn’t sure if I should be terrified or relieved.

Maybe both.

When Aiden finally did leave, slipping out into the hallway with a soft goodbye and a promise to see me at practice, I lay alone in my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to process what had just happened.

Everything had changed. I could feel it in the way my body still hummed with satisfaction, in the lingering scent of his cologne on my sheets, in the way my heart seemed to be beating a different rhythm.

For the first time in months, the restless energy that had been plaguing me was gone, replaced by something that felt like contentment. Almost like peace. Like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready to name but couldn’t deny anymore.

I closed my eyes and let myself remember every moment, every touch, every sensation. Tomorrow, I’d have to figure out what this meant. But tonight, I was just going to let myself feel satisfied and wanted and completely, thoroughly changed.

Tonight, that was enough.