Futile Resistance Ch. 03

He zeroed in on her clit, massaged it with his thumb as he slid two fingers into her wetness. She gasped,

"Oh, Aidan, yes..."

French rode up and down with each stroke of his fingers on her and in her. She knew she would explode before much longer. She forced herself to open her eyes and focus on him.

"Aidan, I'm so close," she said huskily, "I want to feel you inside me."

"Let go, baby."

He kissed her again, matching the thrusts of his tongue to the thrust of his fingers between her legs. He felt her pussy walls clench around his fingers, knew she was on the brink.

"That's it," he encouraged soothingly, "come for me."

The sound of his voice pushed her over the edge. She threw her head back; her breath caught as her orgasm took her. She rode its waves in silence, but Aidan could feel every spasm of her pussy gripping his fingers tightly. He wanted nothing more than to plunge into her then, but deliberately held back. When she was finally able to breathe again, she leaned down and put her lips to his.

"Mmm, now it's your turn."

"I'm OK."

"Somehow I don't believe that when there'sthis that needs attention," she said, stroking his hard cock beneath the water.

With immense effort, he said, "I'll be fine. You ready for bed?"

"Umm... Yeah, I guess I am," French said dazedly, not understanding what he meant.Did he truly mean that he didn't want to... to finish? she thought.

Aidan slid her off of his lap, then stood and levered himself out of the hot tub. His body steamed in the moonlight. He scooped up his towel and draped it around his waist, not bothering to dry off. His hard cock jutted against the towel, making it tent in the front. He grabbed her towel and motioned her out of the tub. She went into his arms and he began to dry her with firm strokes of the towel. When he finished, he wrapped the towel around her breasts and led her into the house.

"You can have the bathroom first," he said.

French performed her nightly ablutions, then emerged from the bathroom to find Aidan standing at the sliding glass doors, still draped in his towel, gazing into the night. He looked to be deep in thought. He gave no indication that he was aware that she'd opened the bathroom door and entered the bedroom. She went to him and looped her arms around his waist, pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. He covered her hands with his where they rested at his waist and turned his head. She rose on tiptoe to allow their lips to meet in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"Coming to bed?" she asked when their lips parted.

He made no verbal response, but led her to the side of the bed, stripped her of the towel she still had wrapped around her and tucked her in. French didn't speak either, but was confused when he didn't get in bed with her. He went into the bathroom. The sound of running water told her he was preparing for bed. He came back into the bedroom and in the dim light of the setting moon that streamed through the skylight, she saw that he was still naked. When he got into bed, French reached for him, seeking his mouth in a hungry kiss, determined to give him as much pleasure as he'd given her. Aidan kissed her back, gently, but didn't allow her to deepen the kiss.

He continued to kiss her, softly, soothing her. Delicately, reverently, intimately, he caressed her body with hands that sought to learn every nook, cranny and curve. But, instead of allowing their kisses to become arousing and incendiary, as had been her intent, Aidan seemed to want to pull them away from the flames.

"What's wrong, Aid?" she asked. "Why won't you let me? I know you want to..."

"It's OK, baby. Let's just sleep."

For the second night in a row, she lay naked, spooned snugly against Aidan in bed. For the second night in a row, she lay awake feeling so many feelings that were hard for her to identify. It felt good and right to be with Aidan like this; she was as content as she'd been since before they'd broken up. But, she almost felt as though he had changed some unwritten rule tonight by not making love with her. And that left her feeling anxious and uneasy, even a little angry.Was this how he would end it? Had he already lost interest in her after having had sex with her the night before -- was that all he'd wanted, to prove that he could have her whenever he wanted to? Had he merely come back into her life to hurt her or to get retribution? To end their relationship on his terms? That any of those scenarios could be possible was terrifying for her.

She was her mother's daughter after all... What else could be expected, she thought.

She lay awake, frightened and angry and had no idea what Aidan was thinking, no idea why he'd not wanted to make love with her, no idea what his motivation had been when he made "the proposal", as she'd come to call it in her mind, last night. She was aware all during her hours of wakefulness, that Aidan was awake, too. He held her close all night, saying nothing, but the force of his thoughts was almost tangible and hung weightily between them. Mentally and physically exhausted, French eventually fell into a light sleep. Aidan lay awake, holding her close, cradling her as though she were the most delicate, precious creature, plotting his next move.