Nayla’s voice was still hoarse, lips swollen and glistening, when Aiden finally caught his breath.
He reached, fingers gentle now, and cupped her jaw. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, saring the last traces of him across her skin.
She leaned into the touch, eyes half-lidded, utterly content.
But Aiden’s gaze darkened with fresh hunger.
He sat up slowly, muscles shifting under sweat-slick skin, and pulled her up with him until they were kneeling chest-to-chest on the massive bed.
"Co here," he murmured, voice low and rough.
He kissed her then—slow, deep, claiming.
He tasted himself on her tongue, salty and thick, and groaned softly into her mouth.
One hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her close while the other drifted down her spine, tracing the elegant curve until he reached the small of her back and pressed her tighter against him.
When they parted, both were breathing hard.
"My turn," he rasped, eyes locked on hers. "I want to make you feel good now. I want to hear you fall apart for ."
Nayla’s breath hitched.
A slow, wicked smile curved her lips.
"Then do it," she whispered. "Ruin , husband."
Aiden didn’t hesitate.
He flipped her in one smooth motion—strong hands on her hips, turning her onto her back with effortless strength.
She landed on the sheets with a soft gasp, midnight hair fanning out like spilled ink, crimson eyes wide and glittering with anticipation.
Aiden settled between her thighs, spreading them wide with firm, possessive hands.
Her pussy was flushed dark sapphire, lips swollen and glistening, clit peeking out from its hood—already throbbing, already begging.
He exhaled roughly at the sight.
"Look at you..." he murmured, voice reverent. "So fucking wet. So ready."
Aiden exhaled roughly, reverent.
"You’re a virgin," he murmured, more to himself than her, voice thick with sothing close to worship. "All those centuries... and no one’s ever been inside here."
Nayla bit her lower lip, crimson eyes half-lidded.
"I was waiting," she whispered. "For soone worthy."
Aiden’s fingers trembled—just slightly—as he traced the outer edge of her folds again, feather-light.
"Then let be the worthy one," he said softly.
He started slow.
So slow it was torture.
Nayla’s hips jerked.
"Aiden—"
"Shh," he soothed, though his smile was wicked. "Let play first."
He circled her entrance with the pad of his finger—slow, deliberate, never pushing inside.
Just tracing.
Teasing.
One finger circled her entrance—never pushing in, just stroking the sensitive skin around it, gathering her slick until his fingertip shone.
Nayla’s hips lifted instinctively.
He pressed the pad of his finger flat against her clit and rubbed in tiny, patient circles.
Her breath hitched.
Soft, needy whimpers began to spill from her throat—higher, more vulnerable than before.
He watched her face the entire ti.
Every flutter of her lashes, every parting of her lips, every tiny twitch of her brows when he changed the pressure.
"You’re so sensitive here," he murmured, voice low and reverent. "So untouched. Look how you flutter every ti I touch you."
He dipped lower—still only teasing her entrance, letting the tip of his finger breach her just barely, then retreating.
Nayla’s thighs trembled.
"Aiden—please—"
"Not yet," he soothed, though his own cock throbbed painfully against the sheets. "I want to learn you first."
Every ti he brushed her clit, she whimpered—soft, needy little sounds that made the air feel thicker.
Sowhere on the edge of the bed, another stifled moan escaped—soone biting their lip hard enough to bruise.
Aiden grinned at it.
He leaned down, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh—then another higher, closer.
When his breath ghosted over her clit, Nayla’s back arched.
"Please..."
He didn’t give in.
Not yet.
He kissed her folds instead—soft, reverent kisses up one side, then down the other, never quite touching where she needed him most.
Nayla’s hands fisted the sheets.
"You’re cruel," she gasped, echoing her earlier words.
He chuckled against her skin.
"I learn from the best."
He leaned in again.
This ti his tongue was slower—almost worshipful.
He licked a single, long stripe from her perineum all the way up to her clit—flat, warm, deliberate.
Nayla’s back arched with a broken moan.
He did it again.
And again.
Each lick a little deeper, parting her folds just enough to taste the sweetness inside without entering.
When he finally sealed his lips around her clit—gentle suction, tongue fluttering in tiny, rapid flicks—her hands flew to his hair.
"Yes—there—oh god—"
He humd against her—low, vibrating—while one finger finally pressed against her entrance.
Just the tip.
Then a little deeper—slow, careful, letting her feel the gentle stretch as he eased inside only as far as her body allowed.
She was impossibly tight—hot, silky walls fluttering wildly around even that shallow intrusion.
He moved carefully, stroking the sensitive inner walls with small, patient curls—searching for the places that made her gasp, never pushing past what her untouched body could take.
"There?" he asked, voice muffled against her.
"There—fuck—there—"
He kept the single finger moving in slow, shallow strokes—gentle, reverent—while his tongue never stopped its relentless little circles on her clit.
The wet sounds were louder now—obscene, slick, rhythmic.
Nayla’s moans turned into soft, desperate cries.
Her thighs clamped around his head—not trapping, just trembling.
He added a second finger—slow, careful stretching—scissoring gently to ease her open just enough, never forcing deeper than she could comfortably accept, while his tongue flicked faster, harder, sucking gently on every upstroke.
Her walls fluttered harder—clenching, pulsing around the shallow intrusion.
She was close again.
"Aiden—I’m—gonna—"
"Co for ," he growled against her. "Let taste it. Let them hear how good I make you feel."
He sucked her clit hard—harder than before—and pressed his fingers just a little deeper, curling them tenderly against the sensitive spots he’d already learned.
Nayla shattered—louder this ti.
Her cry echoed off the walls—raw, broken, unashad.
Her pussy clenched tight around his fingers in hot, rhythmic pulses, slick gushing in waves that coated his hand and chin.
Aiden groaned into her—lapping up every drop, tongue working through her spasms, fingers still stroking gently inside her to draw out every tremor, every aftershock.
When she finally collapsed—shaking, chest heaving, tears of pleasure clinging to her lashes—he slowly withdrew his fingers.
They were drenched—coated in her release.
He brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean—slow, deliberate—eyes never leaving hers.
Nayla watched, dazed, utterly wrecked.
"You..." she rasped, voice trembling. "You’re going to ruin completely."
Aiden crawled back up her body, settling between her thighs again.
He kissed her—deep, filthy, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
When he pulled back, he smiled—dark, possessive, tender all at once.
"That was just the beginning," he whispered. "I’m going to make you co until you can’t rember your own na."
He kissed down her throat, her collarbone, then lower—pausing to worship each breast with slow licks and gentle bites.
Nayla arched into him, whimpering.
"Again?" she gasped, half-laughing, half-pleading.
"Again," he confird. "And again. Until you’re dripping down your thighs and the others are crying from how badly they want their turn."
He slid back down and buried his face between her legs once more.
This ti he didn’t tease.
He devoured.
Tongue plunging shallowly inside her—fucking her with soft, rhythmic strokes that respected her untouched tightness—while his thumb circled her clit in tight, relentless spirals.
Nayla’s hands flew to his hair, hips grinding against his face.
"Yes—fuck—don’t stop—"
He didn’t.
He licked, sucked, fingered with careful shallow thrusts, curled tenderly against her inner walls—until she ca again—screaming his na, thighs shaking violently, slick coating his chin, his cheeks, dripping down his neck.
But he wasn’t finished.
He kissed his way back up her trembling body—slow, reverent—pausing to nuzzle the soft curve of her belly, to trace the glowing lotus sigil with his tongue, to suck gentle marks into the sensitive skin just below her breasts.
When he reached her mouth again, he kissed her until she was breathless—until she was clinging to him, legs wrapped around his waist, pleading wordlessly.
Then he slid lower once more.
Third ti.
This ti he used only his mouth—tongue flat and broad, lapping at her in long, worshipping strokes—then pointed, flicking her clit in rapid little taps that made her sob with overstimulation.
He sucked her gently between flicks—then harder—alternating until her hips were bucking helplessly, until her cries turned into broken little whimpers.
When she ca the third ti—back arched, voice hoarse, tears streaming down her temples—he finally relented.
He kissed his way back up her body—slow, soothing kisses over every trembling inch—until he settled beside her, pulling her against his chest.
Nayla curled into him imdiately—legs tangled with his, face buried in his throat, body still shaking with aftershocks.
"You..." she whispered, voice raw and trembling. "You’re dangerous."
Aiden chuckled—low, satisfied, tender.
"You have no idea."
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her eye—kissing away the tears of pleasure.
From the edges of the bed ca fifteen quiet, desperate, trembling breaths—so openly sobbing now, so fingers clenched white-knuckled in the sheets, so thighs pressed together so hard they trembled.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
But the scent of sex hung thick in the air—sweet, heavy, claiming.
And the unspoken promise pulsed between them all:
After her... one of them would be next.
Nayla nuzzled closer, lips brushing his throat.
"Husband... Fuck already." She whispered in his ears.
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END OF Chapter : 212 : NAYLA’S TURN!
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