Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 273

Aria's POV

I was completely captivated by Aiden's words and kisses. My brain fixated on those three words he'd just whispered—he liked me—while his lips worked their magic against mine. Desire ignited between us like someone had struck a match to gasoline.

His hands roamed down my back, pulling me closer. "I want you," he breathed against my neck, his voice husky with need.

"I need to shower first," I managed to say, though my body screamed otherwise. The party had left me feeling sticky, and I wanted to be fresh for him.

Aiden's eyes darkened as his lips curved into that devastatingly sexy smirk. "Let's shower together."

Before I could respond, he scooped me up in his arms. I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me toward the bathroom, his footsteps purposeful. The spontaneity of it all sent shivers down my spine.

He set me down gently on the cold tile, reaching in to turn on the rainfall showerhead. Steam quickly began to fill the space as water cascaded down.

We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Then Aiden stepped under the spray fully clothed, extending his hand to me. "Coming?"

I took his hand and joined him, gasping as the warm water soaked through my dress. But watching the way his white shirt clung to his chest, revealing every muscled ridge and plane—holy hell. Water droplets clung to his eyelashes, ran down his face, and dripped from his perfect jawline.

"You're staring," he murmured, pulling me closer.

"Can you blame me?" My fingers traced the outline of his chest through the wet fabric. "You look like something out of a goddamn cologne commercial."

He laughed, a deep rumble I could feel against my palms. Then his mouth was on mine again, hungrier this time, more insistent. I pressed myself against him, feeling the hard length of him through our soaked clothes.

We frantically began undressing each other, his fingers fumbling with the zipper of my dress while I worked on the buttons of his shirt. The wet fabric clung stubbornly, turning the whole process into a delicious struggle.

"Fuck," he groaned as my dress finally fell away, leaving me in just my underwear. His shirt followed, then his pants, creating a sopping pile on the shower floor.

His hands were everywhere—cupping my breasts, sliding down my stomach, gripping my ass. I couldn't get enough of touching him either, running my fingers over his shoulders, down his back, feeling each muscle flex under my touch.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify