Babies' Secret: My Ex Wants Me Back!
Chapter 45: It was everything

Chapter 45: It was everything

Chapter 45

Katherine tossed again, letting out a small groan as she flipped her pillow for the fifth time. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, unfocused. Her room was dark and quiet except for the faint radiation from the lamp beside the bed and the soft whirr of the ceiling fan above.

The twins were already in their room, sleeping soundly—such a contrast to the whirl in her mind.

Her thoughts were all filled with Aaron —His voice, his look, his smile, his smell, his body and his attentiveness.

God!

Her fingers curled into the sheets beneath her as she shut her eyes tightly, trying to shake off the images haunting her. His touch from earlier lingered like an Arabian perfume—one kiss on her collarbone and she was undone. The way his breath trickled against her skin. The sound of his voice murmuring into her ears. The look in his eyes—raw, unguarded, and dangerously soft when he whispered, "I’m waiting."

Damn him.

Katherine shook her head, slapping her flaming cheeks as she clenched her thighs and pulled the blanket over her head, trying to quell the heat pooling in her stomach. But it didn’t help, the heat wasn’t calming down yet was skyrocketing every moment her thought ran wildly.

With a soft sigh, she turned to the side and her eyes caught sight of something familiar. A navy-blue hoodie sat draped neatly on the edge of the bed—the one Aaron left earlier, the one the twins had innocently brought to her room.

She reached out and picked it up, her fingers curling into the soft fabric before lifting it slowly to her nose. She inhaled it—so manly and intoxicating.

It smelt like him.

A little sandalwood mixed with fresh cinnamon and something uniquely Aaron. She groaned, eyes fluttering closed as her chest tightened. Her grip on the hoodie tightened as a jolt zipped through her.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

And yet, the scent—so raw, so familiar—tugged her to the past, pulling her into memories she’d long buried. Six years ago. Back to that night. Their night—the first time.

Her heart clenched.

She sat up slowly in bed, clutching the hoodie in her lap like it was a lifeline. Her mouth felt dry, throat parched as if she’d swallowed dried yam. She didn’t want to reminisce about the moment—but her mind was already conjuring the scene in vivid colors.

The way his hands had trembled when he touched her. The awkward stuttering of his breath when he’d asked her if she was sure. The way he’d confessed—eyes wide, voice low—that he’d read online how it might hurt for the girl, and that he wanted to make it easier. Wanted her to be okay.

How careful he was. How nervous and so innocent.

Their bodies had moved clumsily, yet were filled with trust and love. It wasn’t perfect. It was slow, gentle, yet everything.

How his fingers had interlocked with hers and his lips had kissed away every hesitation. She remembered how his voice broke when he said her name. How she cried a little—not from pain, but from how much her heart had swelled.

It was sweet. Clumsy. Intimate.

It was everything.

Their sweet moment.

And now, here she was, years later, still reeling from it. Still aching for something she didn’t know she’d missed until it reappeared with that look in his eyes and that kiss on her neck.

Katherine bit her lip hard, suppressing a sound threatening to escape her throat. She got up. Her knees wobbled slightly as she padded barefoot toward the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. The hallway was quiet, the twins still fast asleep, unaware of their mother’s heat.

Inside the bathroom, she clicked the door shut gently, locking it behind her.

She sat on the edge of the bathtub, hoodie clutched to her chest, her breath coming in soft pants. Her skin rose, nipples hardened, and her body buzzed with excitement.

It had been long since her body pulsed with desire, with want, with heat.

Her hand trembled as she let the hoodie fall beside her and leaned back slightly, legs parting just enough. Her fingers trailed down her pants hesitantly as she released a shaky breath. A small, breathless whimper escaped her lips as she brushed against herself lightly.

Katherine swallowed hard, breath getting shallow as she pressed her thighs together tightly for a moment. But it wasn’t enough. It was like her body remembered him. Every touch. Every whisper. Every moment from that night six years ago.

Her fingers moved again, slower this time, a little bolder. She closed her eyes. Her lips parted. Her other hand gripped the edge of the tub as she slipped further into the fantasy—the memory that was now wrecking her from the inside out.

Aaron’s deep, desire-coated voice, his feverish breath, the way he’d looked at her with his boyish nervousness and awe clashed with his adult, unholy, oozing sex appeal in her mind.

The way he’d touched her then—and the way he would touch her now—made her breath hitch as her back arched slightly. Her hips moved gently with the rhythm of her fingers, pleasure building in her stomach.

She gasped softly, Aaron’s name nearly slipping past her lips. She bit her lower lip hard, holding back the moan crawling up her throat. Her breath came faster, her fingers a blur, her eyes glistening.

Her walls tightened as her stomach knotted in pleasure, the pressure building up as her head rolled back, her hips arching to meet the pleasure. Katherine let out a groan as she spasmed from pleasure, her body trembling.

Her body shook tremendously as she came from the high, sweat trickling down her skin, eyes squeezed shut as her head dropped back against the cold tile wall with a dull thud while breathing raggedly.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the aftershock trembling through her legs. The pleasure was real. So was the shame after she calmed down from her desire.

Katherine blinked back the tears at the corner of her eyes, her palm resting on her trembling belly as she tried to gather herself. A lump formed in her throat, too big to swallow.

She was ashamed of her action.

She wrapped her arms around herself and curled up a little on the tub’s edge, tucking her knees close as if trying to shield herself from her own heart.

What was wrong with her?

Why did she do that?

Why did she let some minute pleasure cloud her rational thinking?

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. She wasn’t supposed to still want him. Not after everything. Not after the separation. Not after him being a married man. She was lusting over another woman’s man.

And yet, here she was—still wanting him.

The hoodie lay beside her, stained with her cum. She gulped, reached for it again and pulled it to her lap, burying her face into it. Breathing his scent in one more time.

"Get a grip," she muttered to herself, her voice hoarse and shaky.

You’re not supposed to be like this!

But she was already like that.

She was. So much... it ached.