Page 32 of Aidan (The Doherty Mafia)
I was just a vessel for his pleasure and he fucked my mouth, thrusting his cock in and out of me. My pussy was so hot and wet, my clit was swollen with desire and I stroked harder and harder with every thrust.
My throat opened up. His cock plowed in easier and he wasn’t about to stop.
I sat perched on my knees on the flimsy couch that shook and shuddered from the force with which he fucked my mouth. His groans were like a wild animal’s, and finally, he exploded in my mouth.
I allowed myself to come at the same time, but I tried staying still. The struggle of overcoming my orgasm was powerful. It made the pleasure even sweeter.
I could taste him in my mouth. His cum slipped down my throat and I swallowed. There was always going to be a part of him inside me.
Aidan grunted with satisfaction when it was over, pulling himself out of my mouth.
I fell back on the couch, following him with my eyes as he pulled up his pants.
Casually, he picked up his coffee and took another sip. He was done. He got what he had come here for, and I couldn’t blame him. He was justified in using me however he wanted. I had no excuses anymore.
“About that vacation,” he said, not meeting my eyes.
I was weak in the knees and weak all over. Waiting with baited breath for him to continue.
“It’s a nice fantasy to have but I can’t leave town any time soon. We are at war with another mafia family and I need to be here for my brothers.”
My throat was dry and I forced myself to gulp.
“A war? With who?” I asked meekly.
Aidan gave me a harsh look. His intense eyes bore a hole through my skull. I couldn’t help but be fearful that he knew something he wasn’t saying.
“You wouldn’t know them,” he replied.
Seventeen
Aidan
Leah said she wanted to cook a meal for me.
I said, “I have to see it to believe it.”
She rolled her eyes at me and then tied an apron at her waist before she started pulling out pots, pans and chopping boards. It was obvious she wasn’t familiar with the kitchen—which was again a sudden reminder that this could all just be temporary. This apartment wasn’t her actual home.
Nonetheless, I wanted to enjoy the moment for what it was. Leah Michaels cooking me dinner.
When we first met, she never had the opportunity to cook for me. She was always in a rush to leave and return to her parents. I didn’t know if she even knew how to.
Now I stood at the kitchen door nursing a bottle of beer while she handled a chicken for a fancy roast. She knew what she was doing.
My mind went down the rabbit hole.
I daydreamed about what it would look like if this became a regular thing. If I always came home to Leah. If she cooked me a roast dinner every weekend and I helped her give our kids a bath.
I loved the way her ass moved around the kitchen. She looked like the perfect wife in that little apron with the cherries print. She had tied her red hair up in a messy knot, her lipstick was smudged from what we did earlier.
Adrenaline raced through my veins, and I did everything I could to keep calm.
It was just a fantasy. We were just pretending to play house.
Even if I stayed the night, tomorrow morning we’d have to go our separate ways.
I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I didn’t want to fall in love with her again. Leah was bad news the last time and this time, it would be worse. For starters—my family still held a grudge against her.
And I still didn’t know what she was doing with the guy from the Baron family.
When I hinted at it earlier, she didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.
I believed I could read her—or at least I could when we knew each other five years ago. She was a bad liar and I hoped things hadn’t changed much in that department. So, my gut told me she wasn’t lying now.
My best bet was that she genuinely had no idea about my connection with Aldo Baron. That the guy I saw her talking to was just some acquaintance from her past and there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for their meeting.
I just had to find out what it was.
Dinner was delicious and I told her so.
Leah drank one beer with the meal, and I kept track tonight. She hadn’t drank as much as last time and it seemed like she was more at ease. Whatever bothered her last night must have gone away.
Or she was just more comfortable around me tonight.
“I just never pegged you for the kind of guy who would give a crap if I left,” she continued.
