Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 35.2: Insane

Aedion pov!
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Aedion Eagan was many things—most of them unfavourable—but with decent pride, he could say he was not an idiot.

However, if there was anyone who could make him feel like the world's greatest slack-jawed fool, it was Elowen Aeron.

Aedion knew he had fucked up, royally so. And so, for two months, he'd done his damnedest to make up for it. He'd kept his distance, not minding that she pushed him away, refusing to give up, even when it hurt. He'd hurt her in worse ways, so it was up to him to earn her trust again.

Somehow, though, he'd fucked up. Again. This time, by being purposely dense apparently, and not realising she liked him again. Excuse him for not giving much weight to the words a deliriously ill woman had mumbled before falling asleep.

Aedion had thought he was being reasonable, trying not to be so pushy and demanding, as he was prone to be. But according to her, he'd been a dense idiot for not reading between the lines.

One moment she'd been in his arms, sticking her cold snub of a nose against his chest and laughing in that sweet, sleepy way she did. The next, she was hissing like a scalded cat, because he'd committed the grievous sin of wounding her pride.

That pride. That damnable, ridiculous pride.

Infuriating, this woman. Demanding, bossy and so damn hard to please, it made him insane. That had to be it—Aedion was insane. That was why he found himself arguing for dear life one moment, the next, devouring her snarky little mouth.

He kissed her and it was like a cataclysm. A wave of pure, raw need shaking him to the very bones. It bordered on painful, the way he couldn't get enough of her. The wet slide of their mouths, knocking teeth, twining limbs. Outside the sky was coming down, but all he could care about was the pink flush on her cheeks, the way her nails dug into his back, the breathy noises leaving her mouth.

Clothes were discarded in piles and soon, he had her spread beneath him. All creamy skin, coltish limbs and bare curves.

Perfect, he thought, head foggy with lust. Perfect, warm, and all for him. His mouth shifted from her lips, down her throat, to kiss her collarbones and nip at the soft, swelling underside of her breasts.

She smelled like him. Of his soap and his body, mixed with that sweet scent that was purely hers. It made something possessive and primal in him stir with satisfaction. Mine, mine, mine, his blood sang, as he sank his teeth into her soft flesh.

"Aedion," she gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, bordering on painful.

He grinned, wolfish, against her skin, and gave her pink, puckered little nipples a teasing nip. His hands trailed down her ribs, all the way down to her navel, where he toyed with the ruffled edge of her underwear. Tight circles and teasing flicks over the flimsy silk, her hips rocking and her thighs squeezing him, breathy little moans leaving her parted lips.

His mouth trailed down her chest, kissing the tight muscled line of her stomach, but before he could make his way down to her thighs, she sat up, breathing roughly.

Aedion paused and looked at her, blinking to disperse the fog of lust clouding his brain. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head, and rather than explain, in a movement that was swift, yet graceful, she managed to turn them around, straddling his lower abdomen. Aedion let out a low, surprised sound, his hands immediately finding the swell of her hips.

"Thought we'd try something different," she said by the way of explanation.

"I'm not complaining, you look good up there," he answered, hungrily drinking her in, sat atop him like a queen on her rightful throne.