CHAPTER 81: GOING BEYOND

(mature content ahead skip the Chapter if not suitable you won’t miss out on any major scene)

Aiden POV:

Okay, I can’t completely blame it on the wine. But it definitely played a part.

Because my reasoning? Completely disarmed.

One kiss. That’s all it was supposed to be. Just a taste.

But once I had her—once I felt the way her body responded to mine—I couldn’t stop.

Her skin was like silk beneath my hands, warm, inviting, her scent clouding my senses. And those sounds she made? Fuck. They undid me. Completely.

She wasn’t holding back. Neither was I.

I lifted her off the desk, her legs instinctively wrapping around me as I carried her to the couch. My mouth never left hers, devouring every whimper, every sigh.

I laid her down beneath me, my body pressing into hers, my hands roaming over her curves, memorizing every inch.

She looked up at me, her lips swollen from my kisses, her breath shallow, pupils blown wide with desire.

And fuck, I was gone.

"Tell me to stop," I rasped, though even I knew I wouldn’t have been able to pull away at this point.

She didn’t.

Instead, she pulled me down, crashing her lips to mine again, sealing both of our fates.

Our deal never included this.

We weren’t supposed to share a bed. We weren’t supposed to crave each other like this.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Because right now, Alexia was mine.

******

The first time I kissed her, I knew I was in trouble.

The first time I tasted her, I knew I’d never get enough.

And now, with the sweet burn of wine settling in my veins, with Alexia pinned between me and my desk, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences.

I was thinking about her.

The way her dress clung to her curves, the way her lips parted slightly as she gazed up at me, flushed and breathless.

The way her body melted into mine when I pulled her closer.

It started with a look.

One charged moment between us, heavy with tension neither of us had the will to fight anymore.

And then I kissed her.

I kissed her hard, drinking her in, swallowing the small gasp she made as I pressed her back against the desk, my hands gripping the edge on either side of her.

She tasted like the wine we had shared, but sweeter, smoother, as if she had been made to be devoured.

"Aiden—" Her voice was breathless against my lips, her fingers threading into my hair.

I growled, deep and low, answering her with another kiss—harder, deeper, letting my hands wander, exploring the soft curves I had imagined touching more times than I could admit.

She arched into me, her legs parting slightly as I stepped between them, the thin material of her dress riding up her thighs, teasing me with the barest glimpse of soft, smooth skin.

My cock throbbed.

I wanted her.

Fuck, I needed her.

And when her hands moved down, gripping my shirt, pulling me closer, I knew she needed me too.

"Tell me to stop," I murmured against her lips, even though I was already too far gone to listen if she did.

She shook her head, eyes dark with desire.

"Don’t stop."

That was all it took.

I grabbed her hips, lifting her onto the desk, knocking over papers, sending my laptop sliding to the side.

I didn’t care.

Not when she was here, underneath me, writhing, needy, desperate for more.

My hands trailed up her thighs, pushing her dress higher, my fingers brushing against the damp fabric of her panties.

She whimpered.

I groaned.

Fuck. She was already soaked.

I slid my fingers beneath the lace, teasing her, feeling the heat of her arousal.

"Aiden," she breathed, gripping my shoulders as I slowly pushed a finger inside her.

Her body tightened, her breath hitching—

And then I froze.

She was tight. Too tight.

And when I looked up at her, when I saw the slight hesitation in her eyes, realization hit me like a truck.

"Alexia." My voice was hoarse, thick with restraint. "Are you—?"

She bit her lip, cheeks flushing deeper.

And that was all the answer I needed.

She was a virgin.

Fuck.

My muscles tensed, the weight of what I was about to do crashing over me like a tidal wave.

I should stop.

I should tell her we didn’t have to do this.

But then she moved, rolling her hips slightly, pressing herself further onto my hand.

"Please," she whispered. "I want this. I want you."

My control snapped.

I growled, capturing her mouth in a deep, bruising kiss, my fingers curling inside her, working her open, preparing her for what was coming.

She moaned, arching against me, her nails digging into my back.

"That’s it, baby," I whispered against her neck, trailing kisses down her throat, my free hand pushing the straps of her dress down her shoulders, exposing soft, bare skin.

I pulled back, looking at her—really looking at her.

She was gorgeous.

Mine.

And I was going to ruin her.

I unbuttoned my shirt, sliding it off before reaching for my belt, unzipping my pants, freeing my aching cock.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t look afraid.

She looked hungry.

I smirked.

"You sure about this?" I asked, teasing the head of my cock against her slick entrance, dragging it up and down, making her squirm.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice shaky but sure.

And that was all I needed.

I gripped her hips, positioning myself, and then, slowly, I pushed inside.

She gasped, her fingers digging into my arms.

She was tight, so fucking tight, her body resisting at first before finally surrendering, stretching around me inch by inch.

"Relax, baby," I murmured, pressing kisses along her collarbone, willing myself to go slow, to savor the feeling of being buried inside her for the first time.

She nodded, taking deep breaths, her body trembling beneath me.

And then, finally, I was fully inside her.

I stayed still, letting her adjust, feeling the way her walls clenched around me, hot and perfect.

"Fuck," I groaned, gripping her waist, my self-control hanging by a thread.

She felt too good, too tight, too warm.

I wanted to move.

I wanted to fuck her senseless.

But I waited—until she moved first.

She rolled her hips, just slightly, testing, experimenting—and then moaned.

That was it.

That was my fucking undoing.

I snapped my hips forward, setting a slow but deep rhythm, filling her with every thrust, watching her fall apart beneath me.

She moaned louder, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper.

I growled, picking up the pace, fucking her harder, deeper, claiming every inch of her body as mine.

Her head fell back, her nails raking down my back, leaving behind marks I wanted her to leave.

I kissed her again, swallowing her gasps, her cries, driving into her over and over, pushing her closer, taking everything she gave me.

And when she finally came, her body tightening around me, her cries breathless and raw, I let myself go, burying myself deep as I followed her into bliss.

We stayed like that, tangled, breathless, my forehead resting against hers.

And for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences.

I was only thinking about her.

And how I never wanted to stop.

I don’t know how long we stayed tangled together, our bodies pressed against each other, her warmth seeping into me like a drug I never wanted to quit. My name had fallen from her lips like a whispered confession, and I had claimed her like a man starved, giving in to something I had sworn I never would.

Now, as the haze of passion slowly lifted, I found myself staring down at her.

Her breathing was steady, soft.

Her face, peaceful.

She had fallen asleep against me, her bare skin glowing under the dim light of my office. Her hair was tousled, fanned out over my chest, her body relaxed, her arm draped over my waist like she belonged there.

And for a moment, I let myself believe it.

But then reality crashed down on me like a fucking tidal wave.

What the hell had I just done?

I ran a hand down my face, my heartbeat still erratic, but for an entirely different reason now. I hadn’t just crossed a line—I had obliterated it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

We had rules. A deal. A marriage that existed on paper and in public appearances, not in the intimacy of whispered moans and tangled sheets.

But I had lost control.

I had lost myself in her.

And now, there was no going back.

I exhaled sharply, carefully shifting out from under her without waking her. She stirred slightly, her brows knitting together for a moment before she sighed in her sleep and curled into the couch.

She looked... content.

I should’ve felt the same.

But instead, a sharp pang of guilt lodged itself in my chest.

I had taken something from her—something that should’ve meant more than just a moment of passion fueled by wine and reckless abandon. She had given herself to me, fully, completely, and I had let it happen without stopping to think about what it would mean in the morning.

For her.

For us.

Running a hand through my hair, I stood up, gathering my scattered clothes from the floor, my movements slow, careful. I wasn’t ready to face her when she woke up. I wasn’t ready to see the consequences of what we had done written in her eyes.

I grabbed my discarded jacket and draped it over her before stepping away, my gaze lingering on her peaceful face for just a second too long.

Then, I turned toward the window, staring out at the city lights flickering against the dark sky.

Sanity had hit me like a freight train.

And fuck, I wasn’t sure if I could live with the wreckage.