Chapter 2

After a long weekend at the dorms, it took another entire week before Aiden picked up the ring once more in the basement. As he gazed at it, listening to Mrs. Davis move around upstairs, he exhaled. As her ... As her everything flowed into him, he sighed once more. While he had sort of gotten used to it, she had not. The confused, frustrated and now angry woman’s desire mounted daily—hourly.

But Mrs. Davis was his best friend’s mom. While she was hot, she both feared and wanted him. And it just wasn’t right. It wasn’t her fault, but now she was bound to him by this stupid ring. It glinted up at him, voiceless, gleaming. Pulsing?

As he clenched his jaw, Aiden nodded. While he could toss the ring, somebody else would find it. If he were ever to test its full capability on somebody, Mrs. Davis was the safest one. And it would be a direct approach. If she reacted poorly ... Well, at least only they would know about this horrible experiment until she told Paul. And then Aiden would move to the dorms full time. After wrapping it once more, he waited until Mrs. Davis left and walked upstairs.

Tomorrow. Direct. One shot.

So, the next day, Aiden stumbled from bed and only glanced at his running gear, before washing, slipping the ring on his finger and heading to the stairs, still in loose pajama shorts. While the whispers he expected to appear did not materialize, he sensed or imagined the ring waiting. Skin tingling, his chest tightened when he placed his bare foot on the first step.

After nodding and licking his lips, he blinked several times to clear his sleepy eyes and climbed upwards. At the sound of the stairs creaking under his footfalls, a small gasp escaped his best friend’s stepmother. As soon as he opened the door to step into the bright lights, Mrs. Davis lowered her coffee mug; she had already been staring at the open door, waiting for him.

When he walked closer, her motionless body trembled, and she lowered her shaking mug to the table. Eyes widening, the tremors became shakes and her nails tapped on the wooden surface. While sighing under his breath, Aiden strolled closer, leaving the basement door open behind him. A fast exit.

“Good morning, Mrs. Davis,” he called out in his normal chippy morning tone, but his voice cracked on her name.

She jerked at the sound of his greeting. Was he really about to do this? It had been a week since Aiden last greeted her. As her eyes tracked him, he sauntered past her and poured himself a glass of juice; his hands quivered. After swallowing, he walked back and sat next to her. Nails beating on the wood, Mrs. Davis’ dark, warm, brown eyes widened further and whipped to his pajamas, not his running shorts, as one of her eyebrows raised. While gulping his juice, Aiden’s chest thumped as he waited, before setting the empty glass on the table.

“Aiden.” Mrs. Davis’ dark orbs gleamed as they locked onto his. “This is wrong. Whatever this is, it’s not right at all. You’re ... I mean I’m married and...”

“Show me your breasts.”

“No! That’s absolutely not going to happen!”

Her flushed face drained and her clenched jaw dropped when she glanced at her firm globes and their sharp nipples, now bared under the kitchen lights. Still clutching the terry cloth material, her dainty hands had pulled her robe apart. When her eyes flicked back to his, she emitted a low groan as her gleaming skin darkened, but this time not in anger, and her lips parted further. His heart raced at the glimpse of her tongue flicking inside her glistening mouth.

“They are just as beautiful as I imagined, Mrs. Davis,” Aiden said in a hoarse, low voice.

Mrs. Davis’ gaze snapped to Aiden’s outstretched fingers, approaching her bare breasts.

“Oh!” Head tilting back, her eyes blinked when his fingertips found her rubbery, hot nipple. “No! Aiden! Stop!”

With matching groans, Aiden and Mrs. Davis fused. Not just the physicality of the burning hot rubbery nipple stem sliding between his fingers, but also her body flaring with heat. Synched together, the intense fluttering in her loins matched the pumping of blood into his. Unmoving but for the shaking of her glistening frame, Mrs. Davis clenched her teeth and gazed deep into his eyes.

“No,” she hissed, before sucking on her lips and swallowing.

When he gently scraped the underside of the thick, hot red stem with his fingernail, her eyes flared.

“Oh!” Panting, Mrs. Davis arched her back, thrusting her breast into Aiden’s hand.

“You are so beautiful, Mrs. Davis.” Between his thumb and forefinger, Aiden rolled the large, long nub and flicked his gaze from it to her wide watery eyes.

Still silent, Mrs. Davis just nodded and flicked her tongue over her shining lips when he tugged on the entrapped flesh. Eyes blazing with both fear and arousal, her crumbling resolve clashed with intensifying physical feelings. Aiden’s matching groan drove him forward—he needed to know. The ring needed to know. The throbbing flesh burning between his fingers and those deep, dark, gleaming eyes—they needed to know.

“Open your robe all the way, Mrs. Davis.”

Even as Aiden’s eyes widened and his breathing raced, Mrs. Davis’ confusion, fear and hunger raced through him. White-rimmed, her eyes stared at her hands, pulling apart the terry cloth, letting both sides of her robe drop away along her shapely, quivering hips. After her eyes flicked from her black lace panties to him, he settled his fingers onto her stomach; her silky skin so warm, taut over her well-toned muscles heaving under his fingertips.

“Oh, No, Aiden. Please! This is wrong! You can’t ... Oh...” Mrs. Davis’ voice trailed off as soon as his nails scraped across the black flowered pattern of her lace panties, taut over her curling mound.

When Aiden felt the hard, heated bump beneath his fingertips, Mrs. Davis’ body tightened and she locked her gaze on him; intense need and equally intense fear struggled within her. When her eyes suddenly narrowed and her brow raised, a gasp flew from Aiden; she could see his thoughts. Though panting and licking her lips, confused, she watched him toy with her. Confusion was winning over fear. Aiden meant her no harm—and never would.

“I love my husband. I love my husband...” Despite the muttered chant, her inner, much hungrier, voices murmured inside Aiden. As her body ached, flaring with need—a long buried yearning now burned within every fiber of the squirming woman. Yet, still unmistakable reticence and fear of what he was and ... How could he make her do anything he wanted? Or she wanted? As one, they both gasped; her eyes blinked as her chest heaved. Both hearts pounded in unison. Aiden growled as fear ripped through her; she was...

“No! Not that Aiden! Please! I’m your best friend’s mom. Think of Dan!”

“Stepmom.”

With a knowing tight grin, Aiden stroked the swollen little nub through her panties while rolling and pulling on her hot, thick nipple stem. Emitting long, low hungry groans, Mrs. Davis writhed and sucked on her lips, brown eyes fluttering but still locked on him. Fingers buried deep in its thick material, her hands clawed at her robe, holding it open for him. A maelstrom of need, pure lust, fear, reluctance, and the disintegrating strands of her false love for her husband whirled within her.

After listening to her confused dialog in his head, Aiden gasped. Nodding as he exhaled; she was right.

This was wrong.

With a grunt, Aiden pulled his hands away, leaving her exposed and heaving under the kitchen lights.

This was stupid.

He was wrong; it would be better to test the ring on somebody less close, less familiar. As he sucked in air, Aiden’s fingers clawed at the table. When Mrs. Davis flicked her dark, inscrutable eyes to the prominent bulge in his shorts, she gasped and licked her lips. After shooting her a thin smile, he stood; another side effect of the ring was the enhancing of his anatomy.

Even standing, the heat billowing from Mrs. Davis enveloped Aiden and, trembling, he staggered from her. Clenching his fists and letting out another long breath, he began his own mantra.

She is right. This is wrong. The ring is wrong.

The ring in the rain-driven mud; this was why someone had discarded the ring. This would not work; Aiden liked Mrs. Davis. And she was always nice to him. Even though he had shown up and crashed in their basement. As he sighed, he stepped further from her, averting his eyes from the writhing body of the olive-skinned beauty.

As he shook, Aiden jerked his gaze back to her. Relief, but disappointment. Hunger. Something old, a burning ember. How could he still sense her? With her hands still clamped on her dangling robe, Mrs. Davis’ eyes widened; their thoughts were linked. A whimper slid from her parted lips, fear gone, replaced with a wave of intense hunger and desperation. Confusion. As another moan escaped her lips, Mrs. Davis trembled, skin flushing even as her heartbeat raced.

While the rhythmic beating of her pulse battered him, Aiden raised his hand to his own chest; the loud thumping inside ... With a growl, Mrs. Davis’ hands shook. Fear whooshed back into her, the loss of control, years before Aiden ... The memory—that memory. Loss of control. As a gasp flew from Aiden at the barest hint of her memory, Mrs. Davis bit her lower lip, eyes both terrified and so very hungry. Part of her needed him, but she also wanted to cover herself and flee, and couldn’t. As she sat there, motionless, bared to Aiden, Mrs. Davis tottered on the edge of ... Something...

“I love my husband. I love my husband...” Mrs. Davis repeated under her breath.

But, Aiden nodded, he owed her. With two quick steps he was at her side, glided his hand over her roiling, hot, sleek stomach and drove his fingers under the waistband of her panties. Huffing, the fear within Mrs. Davis blew apart as she thrust her pelvis into his palm. As he gazed deep into her widening eyes, his fingertips plowed through the thin patch of fur and curved downwards along her fleshy hood to find her hard, burning clitoris.

As soon as he slid his index finger and his thumb beside her core, Mrs. Davis’ eyes locked on him, mouth open in a silent scream. Time stopped as he paused. Need, pure physical need, had annihilated any last bubbles of fear within her, and Mrs. Davis’ eyes were rimmed in white. All reticence gone; she now shook with anticipation.

Though buried in her sleek warm lace, his palm rubbing on her soft downy fur, Aiden trembled, letting her arching pelvis shove his hand upwards. Should he? Was this really her? Or was the ring ... Was it ... Had it changed her?

With an intensity he had never heard before, a desperate whisper slid from her parted, shining lips. “Please...”

After a quick exhale, Aiden clamped his thumb and finger together. As she screamed into her fist, Mrs. Davis contracted around his arm, before shuddering and twisting in her seat. While he stroked the little nub, she rotated around his motionless forearm. Writhing, she cried out again and again while waves of warm moisture flowed beneath his fingertips. When she could do no more than whimper, her fist dripping with drool, Aiden lifted his glistening fingers.

With one last whimper, Mrs. Davis crumpled across her arms on the tabletop.

Without a word, Aiden left her and headed downstairs to get ready for class. Was that right? What he had done? What she hadn’t wanted ... And then wanted? Needed? Her need? His need? His need ... Fuck, he was so hard. With a huff, he leaped into the freezing shower and cried out while the pounding icy water slammed into his swollen mast. His need; that hadn’t been about him. It had started with him needing to know, but he had discovered something else. Her need.

Once Aiden left her in the kitchen, under the lights, robe wide open and draping the sides of the chair, Gina sobbed as the chilly air swept over her bare skin. At the ends of her dangling arms, her long fingers twitched, clicking their nails as she shook. It was so wrong what he had done to her. It was—sexual assault. His fingers, they ... They had raped her, ignoring her fear and just...

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Aiden and The Ring

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