My first crush (COMPLETED)√

PART 2: Chapter 63: Breaking rules

My body wanted more.

A soft, moaning sound slipped past my lips.
"Hmm..."

Aaron's eyes darkened instantly, his gaze dropping to my mouth, then slowly back to my eyes.

"Yeah," he murmured, licking his lips slowly, deliberately. "I know you want more."

His fingers moved with aching slowness as he undid the first button of my shirt... then the next... then another. Cool air brushed against my skin as the fabric parted, exposing me to his hungry stare.

He froze.

For a second, everything stopped.

"I think I should stop," Aaron said quietly, his voice rough, conflicted — as if he were fighting something inside himself.

My breath hitched.

"A–Aaron..."
The words tangled in my throat and never made it out.

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, then turned and left the room.

I sat there, stunned — skin burning, heart racing, body screaming in protest. I felt alive in a way that scared me.
Why did he stop?

Moments later, he returned from the kitchen with two glasses. No tricks. No games. Just liquor — the sharp scent of it cutting through the tension in the room.

"You look like you need this," he said softly, handing me one.

"Yeah..." I exhaled. "I really do."

I took a sip. Warmth spread through me almost instantly, loosening the tight knot in my chest.

"Gosh, Aaron..." I breathed. "That burns."

He chuckled and dropped onto the bed, stretching out, eyes never leaving me.

"Now," he said, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, "give me your best shot. I wanna see what you've got."

A shy grin crept onto my face as courage — liquid and emotional — bloomed in my veins.

"I don't even know where to start," I admitted.

"Start by getting rid of those damn clothes," he said, voice low. "I wanna see you."

"Bossy," I teased.

"Yes," he agreed easily.

I slipped my shirt off, letting it fall to the floor.

"That's more like it," he muttered, folding his arms behind his head, eyes tracking every inch of me like gravity itself had shifted.

I kicked off my pants and climbed onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as his gaze burned into my skin.

"Now," I said, emboldened, fingers reaching for him, "I wanna see you too."

I unzipped his trousers slowly, unveiling his true nature that stood up as hard as brick in my eyes. I circle my fingers around him, taking a first lick before diving in with my mouth fully. His eye stayed shot instantly, welcoming a familiar urge but different this time. He was getting on an edge, his pulse faster than normal.

"Don't stop," he breathed.

I didn't.

He stripped the rest away himself, muscles taut, anticipation thick in the air.

"I'm all yours," he said quietly. "Come here."

I leaned down and kissed him — not hesitant now, not unsure. He grabbed my waist firmly, pulling me closer, hands roaming, claiming. His touch was urgent, desperate, as if he'd been holding back for too long.

"I want you," I whispered, surprising even myself.

"Then take me."

I climbed over him, guiding us together. When he entered me, the sensation stole the breath from my lungs — slow at first, then deeper, harder. I cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved beneath me, matching every sound, every rhythm.

The room filled with broken moans, heavy breathing, rain tapping faintly against the windows outside — the world reduced to heat, motion, and the echo of our bodies colliding.

I had never felt anything like it.

⸻

Stephen stirred in his sleep.

His hand brushed the empty space beside him.

He frowned.

Sharon wasn't there.