Aryan's Lethal Obsession

Adah

It has been more than ten days since Aryan confessed.

Every night, he has sex with me as if his life depended on me. As if he was afraid that if he didn't bind me to him, I would leave him forever. Every night, he thrust into me without foreplay and kissed me hard, venting all his emotions as if letting me know what he couldn't say.

And every night, I let him have his way with me, Wanting to comfort him and swallow all his insecurities.

"I shaved for you," I rasped against his lips while he pounded inside me.

His orbs were dilated to their limit, and to pull him out of whatever trance he was dousing, I joked about shaving my pussy as he once desired to see.

"Then I should eat you first," he chuckled, and I was relieved to see him returning to himself.

Pulling himself out, he left a trail of wet kisses over my neck, collarbone, breast valley, belly button and stopped at my pussy. I wasn't surprised when he pounced on it without gentleness, and I spread my legs further to give me deeper access to my throbbing core, just as he liked.

Grabbing my asscheeks, he shoved his tongue. Running my fingers into his ruffled hair, I look down at his closed eyes. He seemed to relax, contrary to how stiff he was when he hovered over me on the bed before thrusting into me.

"What will I get...." I stifled a moan and continued, "for shaving?"

His eyes peeled open, and my breathing hitched at the intensity of emotions swirling in his gaze.

"What do you want?"

I opened my mouth to say I was joking; instead, I moaned when he sucked me hard and pinched my nipple.

"You—" I was cut off when my eyes rolled back at the knockout pleasure building inside me.

I couldn't finish you to not be insecure. You to not be paranoid.

I don't recollect how the night ended, but my morning was greeted with the sight of Aryan's chest. I blushed seeing hickeys on his neck and shoulder, which flashed my distorted memory of how I was kissing his skin frivolously.

"Are you hurt?" I heard him say.

I raised my head and saw him looking at me with concern. For the past ten days, he has asked me the same question each morning, and I whisper a no, looking at his remorseful expression. But this time, I stifled a smirk and said, "Yes."

As I anticipated, he hovered over me, regret marring his face, "where does it hurt?"

"My lips...they ... .are aching," I shiver, unable to reign my desire.

"Did I bite them too hard?" his gaze fell on my lips while his thumb gently traced them.

"Not this one," I whispered, running my fingers over his chest.

"Wha—" he stopped abruptly. His frown morphs into realization, and his gaze jumps onto mine.

Grazing his nose over mine, his expression softened when he whispered, "Should I kiss them better?"

"Yes, please, doctor," I replied before pulling him into a kiss.

It was good that no one was allowed on the floor; otherwise, I don't know if I would have faced anyone after what had suffice in the last 30 minutes. In order to look at my aching lips from the doctor's perspective, he made me sit on his face and made me scream his name in pleasure. If that was not enough, his dirty talk only added fuel to my already aroused lust.

Once he had me drained, he sat against the headboard and pulled up against his chest. With my back to his chest, he fiddles with my tits. With the blinders rolled up the glass wall, I stare at the view ahead. With a terrace full of exotic greens, the landscape garden surrounds the pool with resting couches aligned on one side.