Pleasures and esctasies

Pleasures and esctasies
(Jamie’s POV)

“Aiden?” I answered the phone, smiling without even realizing it, his name settling into my chest like warmth after winter. “What’s wrong? I’m home, babe. Just trying to finish up some paintings.”

I kept my voice casual, even though my sleeve was covered in dry watercolor and my hair was a mess from hours of leaning over the canvas.

He chuckled softly. That low, warm sound that traveled right through the speaker and melted into me.

“Oh really? And when will it be done? I’m dying to see how it turns out.”

There was a pause. A shift in his tone. 

“You know what, I wanna see it now. Why don’t you come show me?”

I frowned. “What? How do you wanna see it now if you’re still in L.A.? That’s not possible, babe, unless you’re not—”

And that’s when realization hit me like a shot of adrenaline.

I dropped the paintbrush instantly and bolted towards the door. My heart was slamming so hard in my chest it felt like it was trying to break free.

I yanked it open and there he was.

Aiden. My Aiden. Standing right in front of me with that tender, breathless smile, the one he only ever gave to me. He looked like someone who had been holding his breath for days and finally found air again.

“Baby—” I exhaled and crashed right into him.

He wrapped his arms around me immediately, one around my waist and the other around the back of my neck, pulling me into him so tightly it felt like he wanted to merge us together. He buried his nose in my shoulder, inhaling me, grounding himself like he’d been starved for this. For me.

I pulled back only enough to cup his face and smashed my lips into his. Hard. Desperate. Hungry. I bit his lower lip just to feel the small gasp he made against my mouth.

He kissed me back with the same wild longing, like he’d been holding it in for too long, like he needed this to be able to breathe.

When he finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to mine, closing his eyes.

“I missed you, Jamie,” he whispered. “I missed you so, so much.”

I swallowed, my voice caught in my throat, as I tugged him gently inside. He followed, still holding my hand like he wasn’t letting go for anything.

We dropped onto the couch, side by side, our knees touching.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” I breathed, brushing my thumb along his knuckles. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back today? How did it go? Is everything sorted? Did you—”

I trailed off, then he suddenly leaned in and kissed me again—quick, soft, but firm enough to shut me up.

“Okay, breathe,” he teased, brushing his nose against mine. “I’ll answer everything one after the other. Just relax.”

I nodded and leaned back, giving him my full attention.

“I didn’t plan to initially come back today either,” he said, his voice calm but still buzzing with excitement. “Neither did I did know the issue would be resolved so fast.”

He rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb as he continued.

“Remember when Victoria called earlier as we were on the phone?”

I nodded.

“Well, she sent me an address, and said I needed to get down there immediately because the press conference needed to be urgently done that day. So I went, I did the interview, I spoke my truth, showed the proof we gathered, answered questions, basically everything we prepared. The defense lawyer said it was enough to crash the narrative against me. And after that… there was no reason for me to stay any longer.”

He exhaled and smiled, his eyes softening.

“So I came straight here. Because the only thing I wanted after all that was to come home to you. And I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you, and to see the look on your face when you opened the door.” He grinned. “And honestly? It was even better than I imagined.”

I let out a small laugh and leaned into him.

“Honestly? I thought you were playing a prank on me when you asked where I was. But… I missed you so much, poodle.” I kissed his cheek slowly. “And I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me closer, kissing me hard. His tongue slid into my mouth and he let out a low sound when I tugged his hair. Heat surged, crawling under my skin, as I tried to control myself, because I could already feel where this was headed .

I forced myself to pull away with a breathless laugh.

“Aiden, you need to rest, don’t you think so? Ain’t you jet lagged? Or are you used to flying so much that you don’t feel it anymore?”

He threw his head back laughing.

“Of course I’m a little jet lagged, but I haven’t felt it yet, maybe it’s because I’m still excited to see you. Who knows, maybe it will hit me later on, but right now I just want to be with you. I don’t even want to be a foot away from you, even if it’s for a second.”

I smirked and leaned forward.

“Oh really? Well, if you’re not going to rest, you can at least lie down here and keep me company.” I stood up and pointed at the couch. “Just watch me paint. Something tells me you’ll fall asleep eventually.”

“Fine,” he said with a soft smile and stretched out on the couch.

I went back to the chair near my canvas and sat down. As soon as I picked up the brush, he was watching me like he was studying a new religion. He smiled when he saw the way my eyes lit up, the way I bit my lower lip as I tucked my hair behind my ear, preventing them from falling into my face, the way my fingers wrapped delicately around the brush.

And then his gaze changed—deepening, softening, and heating all at once. Like he couldn’t take take his eyes off me, like he was falling in love with me all over again, and then it made my mind wander off to the first time we met. The way he looked at me when I walked into his office, the way he spoke to me, the way his brows lifted when he smiled at me. His lips, his sense every damn little thing about him made my body react in ways I couldn’t explain.

Ten minutes has passed, and then he suddenly sat up. His eyes flickered to mine and he grinned, as I dip the brush into water before dipping it into another pallette of paint.

“Aiden?” I smirked. “You can’t sleep? Or am I distracting you too much that you can’t seem to just lay down and rest?”

He didn’t answer. Rather he just stood up and walked toward me, stopping right in front of my chair.

He took the brush from my hand slowly, teasingly, like he was taking something intimate away.

“I don’t know, Jamie,” he murmured. “How about you paint on something else instead of the canvas?”

I raised a brow. “Oh really? And what exactly should I paint on?”

Instead of answering, he put the brush aside, nudged the paints away, then swung a leg over and sat on my lap, his thighs bracketing me, he looped his arms around my neck. His face inches from mine, his breath warm, as he titled his head.

“Are you sure you want me to paint on something else other than the canvas? I asked, my eyes still on him as I slid my hand under his shirt, my fingers grazing the warm skin of his back as I dragged him closer by the waist.

“Well,” he whispered, “I don’t mind being your canvas.” He smirked wickedly. “Give it your best shot, Mr. Flame and Fleur. Turn me into a masterpiece.”

He leaned down and dragged his tongue from my jaw to my chin—slow, claiming, taunting.

My eyes darkened instantly. I crushed my mouth against his, gripping his ass and pulling him tight against me. His moan vibrated into my mouth, as I lifted him effortlessly, wrapping his legs around my waist and carried him to the bed.

I lowered him slowly, teasingly, keeping my mouth on his ear as I whispered things to him. Dirty, slow, promises of what I’d do to him if he kept looking at me like that. He whimpered softly, his lips chasing mine, as if he was surrendering everything to my mercy.

I trailed my mouth down his neck, kissing, sucking lightly, tasting the heat rising under his skin. Then my hand slid under his shorts, closing around his already swollen length. His breathing stuttered, as our eyes met, locked on each other as I dared him to look away. He didn’t.

“Jamie…” he gasped, his voice cracking.

I stroked him faster, my thumb teasing, as my grip grew firm around him. He tugged my hair hard, giving me exactly what he knew would push me further, giving me the control to unravel him in ways only I can.

My lips moved from his neck down to his chest, kissing down the center, letting my tongue circle his nipples one at a time giving them a slow, electrifying lick. He jerked, his breath hitching, his back arching towards me.

“Do you want me to stop?” I murmured against his skin. “Or do you want me to keep going?”

His voice was barely a whisper, but when his hands pulled me closer, and his fingers dug into my shoulders, I knew exactly what he wanted, and I wasn’t hoing to hold back.