Aiden

I closed my eyes, the sound of the slap still ringing in my ears. I shut them tight. I wasn't going to cry.

I felt the heat spread from my cheek. As I opened my eyes, all that heat shot from them in a death-glare. Pure menace. I had gotten pretty good at this look with Aiden. But never once had I meant it.

Until now.

I saw a twinge of regret pass across his steel-gray eyes. Those fucking eyes. I hated those eyes. He must have sensed that I saw past his resolve, because he immediately straightened his posture in a look of defiance.

I brought my hand up to my cheek and I had to shut my eyes again. I couldn't look at him. That fucking monster. I wasn't going to cry.

"I hate you." I said. My voice was a low even tone. It felt strong. I left no room in my voice for the doubt I felt as I said it again, "I fucking hate you."

I turned around quickly, not daring to look back at Aiden. I grabbed my car keys from the kitchen counter and started out the door.

"Win, don't..." he started. Was he begging? I didn't care. 'I don't care about him,' I thought to myself, 'I don't care about those steel-gray eyes that I swear can read my thoughts. I don't care that only Aiden can fuck me until all I can think is his name. I don't care that megalomaniacal Aiden is begging me... I hate him now. Yes, I hate him. I hate his snotty grin and his perfect teeth.' It was fact. I had myself convinced. Right?

I slammed the door.

----------------

I met Aiden when we were in college.

I was standing on a street corner, waiting for the red hand to turn into the white walking man. I had my headphones on and was staring vaguely across the boulevard. Then I saw him.

I immediately recognized that face. Everyone did. Aiden Hoffman didn't go unrecognized on campus. He was the son of the dean, captain of the swim team, had more money than god, and was notorious for his debauched quarterly parties on daddy Hoffman's yacht. Not to mention he was fucking gorgeous. That straight, jet-black hair that swept over his eyes, his tall and intimidating, yet lean and graceful build, and those eyes...

... Those eyes were watching me.

I looked away. He caught me staring. Oh fuck, casual, act casual.

I stared down, studying the covers of my textbooks, acting as if anything in the world were more interesting than Aiden Hoffman.

It wasn't until I heard the shuffling of feet around me that I realized the lights had changed. I could cross the street now. 'Okay, walk. Walking...umm... Yeah, walking!' I reminded myself of the concept. I looked up, ready to move and I saw him coming toward me. I was incapacitated. I just stood, staring. He looked at me, no, through me and grinned. That wide, perfect-toothed grin. But there was something about his eyes, he almost looked as if he were plotting something. There was something sly and calculating in that stare. That's when I felt his shoulder collide with my chest.

He knocked the wind out of me. My books fell to the sidewalk like a thunderclap as I gasped for air. I slowly regained my composure as I noticed Aiden in front of me. He was on his knees, genuflecting close in front of me, collecting my books from the pavement. As he stood, books in hand, his shoulder brushed up my thigh causing me to shiver. "I'm so sorry! I guess I was just distracted," he spoke, the gentle tone in his firm voice making me want to melt. He was still smirking at me when he handed me my books and I snatched them from him in a quick move. "Watch where you're going next time," I spoke harshly, working out my best scowl.

He threw his hands up in an 'I give up' gesture, eyebrows raised, but that sideways, Mr. Dental Hygiene grin stayed glued in place. "Will do," he said as I turned to cross the street before the lights changed again. As I walked, I glanced back over my shoulder to find him doing the same, still smirking. Damn him.

After that morning, I saw him every day for weeks. I couldn't escape him.

He was outside all of my classes, in the cafeteria, the park, everywhere. His presence was grating on my sanity. Why was he following me? Was he following me? Maybe he was always around, and I hadn't noticed him until now. Even if he was following me, of all the people to stalk, why me?

He was nonchalantly leaning against the wall outside my dorm floor's communal shower when I decided to confront him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I questioned him bluntly, hair still wet, clutching my towel at my waist.

"Friends," he nodded his head, motioning down the hall.

"Yeah fucking right, it's about 2 in the morning. Why are you following me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he flashed his teeth, "Maybe you're just seeing patterns where there are none. We tend to do that, you know."

"Cut the shit..." I started. He cut me off.

"In fact, I don't think we've actually introduced ourselves. Aiden Hoffman," he offered, extending his hand, "And you?"

I didn't take his hand, "Win. Win Costello."

"Ah, short for Winston?"

I nodded in return.

"You know, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot somehow," he spoke, taking a long stride toward me, "I think we could be friends." Maybe he had a mental defect that made him keep smiling like that.

"I'm having a party this weekend," he kept walking closer, "and I'd like for you to come," he was only an arm's length away, "We're taking the yacht out Saturday night," I could feel his body radiating warmth, "and I think you'd have fun," now I could feel his breath on my shoulder, "we could get to know one another." I stumbled backward, my back flat against the wall.

"And what makes you think I would want to come to your party? You're stalking me, remember?"

"Because I think that you like me," he put his hand beside my head on the wall.

"Fuck off," I groaned, looking away from his sharp gray eyes. He was so close to me, breathing in my ear. I was rock hard underneath my towel. I hoped, no, prayed that he wouldn't move forward.

That's when I pushed my hips forward against his thigh.

Aiden chuckled, forcing his thigh between my legs, feeling my terry-cloaked bulge pressing against him. He started moving his leg, creating a delicious friction. Unable to control myself, I began to roll my hips forward and back again, humping his thigh like a high-strung terrier. Breathing heavily, my head lolled back on my shoulders as a moan escaped my lips.

That's when he stopped.

He completely extricated himself from me, taking a large step backward, leaving me completely undone and still writhing against the wall. My eyes snapped open wide with shock, immediately followed by shame.

"I guess that means I'll see you Saturday," he smirked, turning and walking to the stairwell, "9:30. Don't be late." He winked. He was gone.

I just stood there, still about to burst and completely speechless. What had just happened?

After a moment, I grasped the towel still around my waist with both hands, hoping to successfully disguise my obvious erection and scurried down the hall to my room as fast as was humanly possible.

Once inside I threw my towel aside and before it hit the floor, I was on my back in bed, furiously stroking myself to release. My hand became a blur as I came, groaning out his name, "Aiden..." The name almost burned as it crossed my lips.

There was no way I was going to see him Saturday.

--------------------------------------

The Hoffman yacht was aglow in the harbor as I pulled my white Jetta into the packed parking lot. I had no business being there. What was I doing? It was almost as if I were on autopilot.

I shut and locked my car as I headed down the pier.

I stared down at the water, the glittering lights from the merry ship ahead floating and shimmering on its surface. I wondered how far up I was then and if it was high enough to kill me on impact. Probably.

Some variety of loud music blared from the yacht's stereo system. It could have been anything: Bach, Metallica, James Taylor, RZA - all I could hear was the noise rushing over me as I wandered aboard like a seafaring zombie.

The party was absolutely packed. 9:56. I was a little late, but everyone aboard had already far outscored me in both the 'drunk' and 'high' columns. Through the dancing and writhing bodies, I noticed couples already beginning to split off to pin their partners against various walls, benches, and railings.

As I twisted and squeezed through the crowd, I knew there was only one thing I was looking for. Then I found it...

... Pressed against some skinny boy with skinny pants and... Well, there went his shirt.

Aiden's hands roamed all over his body, his mouth pressing against his collarbone as he worked the kid's T-shirt over his head.

I stopped, staring. My throat felt oddly thick. My mouth wasn't hanging open...

Something shook Aiden from his conquest as he looked up and over his shoulder, much to the dismay of his quarry. He saw me. He smirked.

I quickly turned on my heel and weaved through the crowd, desperate to escape. I reached a railing and had to stop, surrounded by a dancing mass behind me and a sectional sofa in front. I looked over the edge. I was probably right earlier. It might kill me instantly. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"You're late."

I wouldn't reply. He put both hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face him. I looked away.

"Why so upset?" he questioned. God damn those perfect teeth.

"Fuck off," I managed, my throat still feeling like sandpaper.

"I mean, it's not as if you 'like' me or anything," he was doing that thing again: getting closer and closer. I held my ground.

"Fuck. You."

"You just keep on saying that," he leaned in, hushed words falling across the side of my face, "You know I'd love to."

I shuddered. I was also sporting a raging erection again. How did he keep doing that by just being close to me? This was insane. I looked up, his eyes bore into mine. Then he cocked his head sideways a bit, narrowing his eyes as he glanced down, eyeing my crotch.

He removed one hand from my shoulders and reached down, slowly brushing his fingertips up and down my hard, aching length through the fabric of my jeans. My legs were giving out and I had gone knock-kneed. I was breathing in short little puffs of air.

"See, you do like me. You want me don't you?" continuing to stroke me he whispered in an almost childlike voice, "Follow me." He removed his hand. I whimpered.

He took my hand, pulling me through the crowd. I had no idea where he was taking me, and I didn't care.

I was still dazed when we stopped.

We were standing in a rather secluded area of the deck. Only a few stragglers hung about. Finally releasing the death-grip he held on my limp hand, Aiden knelt down, grasping a large silver ring, and pulled up. A large section of the floor flipped upward, revealing a small wooden staircase descending underneath.

He took my hand again, leading me downstairs.

The room below deck was dark. I couldn't see a thing as he reached behind us and pulled a rope, closing the door to the outside world. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I could only hope...

After a few more steps forward, he stopped. I heard some rustling as he switched on a lamp, filling the large room with a soft, warm light. I glanced around, wanting to be at least vaguely familiar with my surroundings. I was astonished. I didn't think a room this big could fit on a boat. There was a large, plush bed covered with white crisp sheets, a small dining table and chairs, and a large leather sofa facing the massive wet bar.

"Like what you see?"

"Does daddy know you're down here?" I ribbed him.

"Do you want something to drink?" he was ignoring me. Good choice. He made his way over to the bar.

"Don't drink."

"That's a shame," he said pouring himself a glass of vodka and tossing in a couple of ice cubes, "So, what's your vice then?"

"Don't have one."

"You don't smoke?"

"No."

"No drugs?"

"No."

"Well, maybe you do have a vice... You just don't know what it is yet."

"Doubt it," I said, my hands starting to sweat.

He took a heavy draught from his drink as he placed it on the table and paced in front of me, becoming closer with each pass, like a tiger circling its prey. "Really?"

I gulped.

Then he was on top of me. I was pinned against the wall, his hands gripping my shoulders as he burned holes in me with his stare. He thrust his hips against mine like a whip-crack and started to grind them against me in slow circles, his eyes never leaving mine. He slid his hands from my shoulders down my sides, as he resumed his grip, this time on my waist. He pressed his thumbs into me, squeezing me, hands taking claim of the flesh below my ribs. I moaned.

"You know, you say you don't like me," his voice sounded deeper; darker almost, "But I think that's bullshit. So, Win, until you can tell me, I'm just going to show you how much I really like you."

I spat in his face.

He smirked at me.

Then he kissed me hard.

I kissed him back.

His mouth crushed against mine as our tongues waged war. It felt as if he wanted to claim my mouth as his own. My dangling arms suddenly found the motivation to move as I ran my fingers through his silky black hair, gripping it tight in my hands, and pulling his mouth and his tongue impossibly closer. He pulled my hips closer in return, pulling my ass off the wall, and increasing the friction of our desperate grind.

With my grip still tight in his hair, I pulled him away, gasping for air. His gray eyes meeting my brown ones.

"Like me now?" he panted

"Shut up," I kissed him again.

Never once breaking our kiss, he moved his hands down to my ass, groping me as he lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his back as he carried me in the direction of the bed. "You have the most amazing ass," he whispered against my lips.

He dropped me down on my back and just stood above me. I sat up, confused by his inaction.

"Strip," was all he said.

"Fuck you," I replied, pulling my shirt over my head. I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, rolling them down my legs.

"Nice briefs," he smirked. I scowled at him, "What, red not your color?"

"I think it's sexy. I think you're sexy, Win."

My face turned the same shade as my briefs.

I was speechless. Then he took his shirt off. Add breathless. All those hours spent at the pool had really paid off. His long lean muscles stretched and flexed beneath his lightly tanned skin as he bent down to remove his tight black trousers. He was hung like a fucking jury. And no underwear. Go figure.

He stepped forward as I leaned back on the bed, the head of my cock exposed above the waistband of my still-present briefs. Aiden leaned down over me and kissed, licked, and bit his way down my chest. My lungs burned as I gasped for air.

He worked his way down, arriving at my hips. "I think I remember telling you to strip," he spoke evenly, eyeing my crimson underwear. He pulled at the elastic, stretching it out, and snapped it back against my hip. I whimpered, my cock twitching.

He pulled my briefs down my slender legs in one smooth action. "Better," he husked, the desire building behind those silvery eyes.

Seated between my splayed legs, he leaned forward, gently stroking my length with his fingertips like he had outside my jeans earlier. My breath hitched as I began to buck my hips upward, desperate for more contact.

"Now I think it's time we play a game," he said, still softly brushing his fingertips along my cock, staring into my eyes, "From now on, I don't do anything unless you ask me for it - no, scratch that - beg me for it."

"Bastard!" I seethed.

He removed his hand completely.

"UH!" I exclaimed frantically, "Don't... ohhh... don't stop..."

"Don't stop what?"

"Fuck! Touching... Don't....."

My hips were completely off the bed. I must have looked possessed.

"And the magic word?"

"PLEASE! Please, Aiden, just don't fucking stop..."

His hand resumed its position, but with more vigor this time. His fingers curled around my shaft as he slowly began to pump.

"Ohh... Aiden..."

"Just tell me what you need, baby. Beg and ye shall receive."

"Aiden, please..."

"What do you need, Winston?" his touches were slowly getting lighter again. This was going to drive me insane.

"Aiden... I need...ohhh... Aiden!"

He was still kneeling between my legs, slowly and firmly stroking his massive cock, smirking as he watched me squirm under his feathering fingertips. "Tell me!" he nearly shouted, the simmering heat behind his eyes flaring up for an instant.

"FUCK ME!" I screamed, "Jesus, Aiden... I need it. Fuck me. I want you, PLEASE!"

He stopped stroking himself and I noticed that he had been lubing up. He knew he would break me.

"I'll be gentle, I promise," he said, kissing me on the cheek. I dug my fingernails into his shoulder blades as I pulled him closer. "Don't be," I whispered, biting his ear.

"Please," I added.

Sneering, Aiden lifted my legs and let them rest on his shoulders. I felt his giant slick cock pressing against my entrance. Then he pushed.

With one slow, powerful thrust he was inside of me. I was in agony. I was in heaven. I saw stars and stripes and fireworks and fucking Betsy Ross.

"FUCK!" I screamed when he had completely sheathed himself inside of me. As if he didn't look long and thick enough, he felt about ten times bigger inside me. The feeling was exquisite: the complete fullness, the blinding pain and absolute pleasure.

He held still, licking and nipping at my throat, kissing along my jaw line, one hand tightly clinging to my hip, the other pinning one of my arms to the mattress. I started rotating my hips around him, "Aiden," I grunted, "fucking move, Aiden."

And move he did. He began pulling out of me, and slowly pushed himself back in, His massive prick dragging across my prostate as his hips moved in leisurely, smooth ellipses. All I could find myself able to do was scream his name, "AIDEN!" I howled, "Aiden, please!"

"Tell me, baby," he said, squeezing the words through his gritted teeth.

"More... Ohhh, Aiden... Harder!"

His hand on my hip, he pulled me forward as he drew back. A slight pause occurred, with just the head of his cock remaining in my ass. That's when he pulled me towards him, thrusting his hips forward to meet me halfway. We met like a freight train collision. I was going to go blind. I shouted something unintelligible, my eyes rolling backward as he fucked me harder. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I prayed that the partygoers were still carrying on above us and couldn't hear me as I begged and pleaded like a bitch in heat.

With each pounding thrust, he was pushing me back further and further on the bed until the back of my skull was slamming against the headboard. I was eating this shit up.

Between my slurred curses and the brain-wracking pain that was keeping me teetering on the edge of orgasm, all I could think about was the man above me. Aiden, Aiden, Aiden. The sweat pooling on the shelf of his collarbone as he held me down. Aiden. The words that slipped past his exquisite mouth. 'Beautiful,' 'mine,' 'need you.' Aiden. The lean muscles of his chest, his shiny sweat-damp hair, his strong soft hands holding on to me for dear life. Aiden, Aiden, Aiden.

And that's exactly what I was thinking when I came. It was shocking and sudden as a lightning strike. "AIDEN!" I screamed. I didn't care who heard me that time as I shot stream after stream of cum between our thrashing bodies.

Aiden's moves became short and erratic as he leaned down, burying his face in my neck once again. "Mine," he growled into my ear as he bit down on the tender flesh of my shoulder. I felt his cock spasm as he continued to thrust into me, filling me with his seed. His speed and intensity slowed as he came to rest on top of me, still inside me.