Chapter 6: The First Night
The drive back to Catriona’s apartment was a silent, humming thing. The earlier laughter from Leo and Maya’s had faded, replaced by a new, more potent quiet. Aidan kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on Catriona’s thigh, feeling the heat of her skin through the denim. She watched the city slide by her window, but her fingers were laced tightly with his.He parked outside her building, an old brownstone with stubborn ivy clinging to the brick. She didn’t move for a moment, just stared at the dashboard. “It’s different now,” she said, her voice soft.“Walking in there with you. Knowing.”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he said immediately, turning to her. “We can just sit.Talk.I can make terrible tea.”
She smiled, a small, private thing. “I don’t want terrible tea.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over the console, her lips finding his in the dark. It was a slow, searching kiss, a promise whispered in the close space between them.When she pulled away, her breath was warm on his cheek. “Come upstairs.”
Her keys jangled in the quiet hallway. The door clicked open to the familiar scent of her space—lavender, yes, and the underlying note of her shampoo, something clean like green apple. She flicked the light on, a soft, warm lamp by the sofa, and kicked off her shoes.The ordinary ritual felt monumental.
Aidan closed the door, the lock engaging with a solid thunk that sealed them in. He took her coat, hanging it next to his on the rack, the domesticity of the act making his throat tight.
She turned to face him, her back against the wall beside a bookshelf.Her green eyes were wide, luminous. “So,” she breathed.“So,” he echoed.
He crossed the short distance, cradling her face in his hands.Her skin was impossibly soft. He kissed her again, deeper this time, swallowing the little sigh that escaped her. His thumbs traced the arcs of her cheekbones, the scatter of freckles he knew by heart. She tasted of the red wine from dinner and something uniquely, essentially Cat.Her hands came up to his wrists, holding him there. “Aidan,” she whispered against his mouth.It wasn’t a question.It was an affirmation.
He guided her towards the bedroom, a path they’d trod a hundred times as friends, for movie nights or borrowed books.Now, the air thickened with every step. Her bedside lamp was already on, casting a honeyed glow over the quilt, the stack of journals on her nightstand, the well-loved paperbacks.She stood at the foot of the bed, watching him. A tremor ran through her, not of fear, but of acute, vibrating anticipation. He reached for the hem of her sweater, and she lifted her arms, a gesture of pure trust.The fabric whispered over her head. She stood in her jeans and a simple lace bra, her arms crossing self-consciously over her stomach.
“You’re breathtaking,” he said, the words leaving him like a prayer. He shed his own shirt, the cool air a shock on his skin, and drew her close. Skin to skin, the shock of warmth, the frantic beat of her heart against his. He kissed her shoulder, the junction of her neck, the pulse fluttering there like a trapped bird.
His fingers worked the button of her jeans, the zipper a loud buzz in the quiet. He pushed them down, helping her step out.She stood before him, clad only in the lace, pale and slender and strong. He traced the line of her hip, the curve of her waist, committing this to memory. “Is this okay?” he murmured.“More than okay,” she said, her voice husky. She reached for his belt.Her hands, usually so steady in a lab, fumbled with the buckle. He covered them with his own, stilling them. “Let me.”
He undressed quickly, watching her watch him. When he was finally bare, her gaze dropped and her lips parted in a soft, sharp inhale.He saw the flicker of apprehension, quickly chased away by want. “Aidan,” she said again, and this time it held a note of awe.
He laid her back on the quilt, the fabric cool beneath her. He followed her down, covering her body with his, supporting his weight on his elbows.He kissed her slowly, deeply, while his hands learned her. The swell of her breast, the tight peak pressing into his palm through the lace. The delicate cage of her ribs.The flat plane of her belly.He unhooked her bra, peeling it away. Her nipples tightened in the air. He bent his head and took one into his mouth, and her back arched off the bed, a choked cry escaping her. Her fingers speared into his messy hair, holding him close.
He explored lower, past the waistband of her panties, through the soft, damp curls.She was wet, hot. She gasped when he touched her, a broken sound that went straight to his cock, which lay heavy and thick against his stomach. “Please,” she whispered, her hips lifting.“I need you. Now.”
He drew her panties down her legs.She was completely open to him, her thighs falling apart. He positioned himself between them, the head of his cock nudging against her slick entrance.He looked into her eyes. They were dark, wide, utterly fixed on him.
“This might… I’ll go slow,” he said, his voice ragged.She nodded, biting her lip.She reached between them, guiding him. The first press was an intense, impossible tightness.A barrier. She whimpered, her nails digging into his biceps.He stilled, panting, every muscle screaming to push forward.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her eyes shining. “It’s okay.”
He pushed, a slow, inexorable inch. She cried out, a sharp sound that melted into a moan.He felt her body stretch to accommodate him, a hot, velvet clasp. He watched a tear escape the corner of her eye and tracked it with his thumb. “Cat,” he breathed, consumed by a feeling so vast it was terrifying.
“More,” she urged, her legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper.
He sank the rest of the way in one long, smooth slide until he was fully sheathed, buried to the hilt. They both groaned, a tangled sound of pain and profound relief.He held himself there, feeling her inner muscles flutter around him, letting her adjust. Her forehead was damp, pressed against his.“You feel…” she began, but words failed.
He began to move, a slow, deep rhythm.Each stroke was a revelation. The pleasure built, a coiled spring tightening in his gut, but it was secondary to the look on her face—the abandoned wonder, the dawning ecstasy. He changed his angle slightly and her eyes flew open, a cry ripped from her throat.“There,” she sobbed. “Right there.”
He pinned her hands above her head, lacing their fingers together, and drove into her, finding that spot again and again. Her breath came in short, sharp pants, her world narrowing to the point where their bodies joined. The coiled spring in her snapped. Her back arched violently, her mouth forming a silent ‘O’ before a raw, trembling scream tore through her. She clenched around him, wave after wave of contraction milking his length.
The sight of her coming undone, the feel of it, shattered his control. He thrust once, twice more, deep and full, and then he was following her over the edge. He spilled into her with a guttural groan, pumping his release deep inside her warmth, his vision whiting out at the edges. As the last pulses faded, he collapsed against her, careful not to crush her, his face buried in the fragrant crook of her neck.
They lay like that for long minutes, slick with sweat, limbs tangled, breathing in ragged unison. The room came back in pieces: the rustle of the quilt, the faint traffic sound from the street, the rapid, slowing drumbeat of their hearts.Aidan finally lifted his head. Her eyes were closed, tears drying on her temples.He brushed them away with his thumb.“Hey,” he whispered.
She opened her eyes.They were calm, deep pools of green. A lazy, sated smile touched her lips.“Hi.”
He didn’t pull out, not yet. He wanted to stay connected in this fragile, fluid aftermath.He lowered his mouth to hers, a tender, lingering kiss. When he spoke, his lips brushed hers. “You are my love.”
Her smile broke wide, radiant and whole. It was the smile from the library stacks, from a thousand shared jokes, but now it was entirely for him, unveiled.She tightened around him, a faint, possessive pulse. “Say it again.”
“You,” he whispered, kissing her freckled nose, each eyelid. “Are my love.”