°I'm sitting here, crying in my prom dress°

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Enemies.... With Benefits?

Enemies.... with benefits?

By the way: Part 3

MASTERLIST

Summary: Aelin and Rowan hate each others guts... Or do they?

Warnings: Swearing, Hate? sex, NSFW

Word count: 1.3K words

Rowan got up from his bed, yawning and stretching like a house cat. He took his time getting ready, wearing appropriate clothing for his job, and padded outside to the kitchen, since after-nap snacks were always superior. He came outside to the computer room, his new computer room, since his past base had been well and truly wrecked due to Aelin. He munched on a granola bar, speaking to Aedion with his still full mouth. "What are the updates?" Aedion turned, a frown on his face. "I'm not exactly sure right now, but mainly all signs point towards Hotel five, named for its perfect five star rating." Rowan snorted, sitting on a chair. "Sound like Aelin all right," He got up again, ruffling Aedion's hair. "Talk to me when you got a solid location, boyo,"

He scanned the room, frowning. "Where's Gavriel and Lorcan?" Fenrys replied with a snort. "Scouting, apparently. At the City's hottest and newest bar." Rowan rolled his eyes. Those two seemed to be the most innocent, workaholics but none of them could resist getting drunk till they couldn't walk anymore. "Well," He said, stretching his back, "I'm off to hotel five then," Both of them murmured their goodbyes, and he set off. He knew Aedion was right, anyway. He was their best tracker. Taking the long route, not only to avoid suspicion,but to avoid Aelin for as long as possible. The thought of her sent him fuming, hot and irritated. She had killed one of his citizens. He sighed, smoothing down his clothes. No use thinking of that now, he had to keep a clear mind. Especially when it had a habit of wandering where it shouldn't be.

He entered the hotel, completely ignoring the high, towering chandeliers and the exhilarating glass elevators. No, he went straight to the front desk, "Excuse me, Rowan whitethorn, reporting for duty. Suspected criminal in room 403,requesting access?" after gaining a key, he muttered the room numbers under his breath, finally reaching 403. The key card made a 'beep' noise as the door swung open. His breath hitched, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Aelin sat on the bed, smirking at him. But it wasn't that sight , no, it was the nightgown.

The golden night gown, shimmering in the light at every slightest movement she made, hugging her curves, leaving no room for imagination. It took every inch of self control in him to keep his expression non-cholant and to not, he reminded himself, not rip that gods-damned night gown off.

"Hello, Rowan," she smiled at him. "I didn't think you would fall for it you know, it's so easy to leave little kernels of information for you to think this was my warehouse." She sighed, looking up at the lush chandeliers and plush bed. "If only I was that rich," Rowan snarled at her, pacing the room. He turned to her, "You mean to tell me those days of tracking you were all useless!?"

"I'm afraid so," She got up, sensually walking towards him. "But now that you're here, we can do alot of other things." He was staring down at her nose now, and he prayed she couldn't hear his heartbeat. "What are you trying to imply?" she chuckled, "please, don't play dumb with me," he didn't back down. "I don't understand you, Aelin," she scrunched her eyebrows together, "Then you should probably leave, Rowan," He opened his mouth to - what, protest? Agree? - but before he could, a beet red Aelin pushed him outside, slamming the door and leaving him in the hallway.

His heart was beating so fast, by the wryd, he could barely breathe. He felt an ache, a need, that he had to fulfill. He couldn't. He was going to regret it. Alot. But he already regretted alot of things in life. What's one more? Taking a deep breath, he turned and heard once more, the mechanical beep of the door opening.

Aelin had barely pushed Rowan out the door before she leaped on the bed, screaming into her pillow. How the hell was he so unaffected!? Everybody liked her! Why was he the only fucking one, the only one she took an interest in, so uninterested!? He looked stoic and solid as usual. She had even worn her best nightgown, which cost a fortune by the way! And he hadn't even looked at it for a second! She huffed, sitting upright and hugging the pillow to herself. That regection was one of the most humiliating things she had ever heard.

She was about to lay down and pick up her phone, before she heard the beep of her door opening. Rowan's tentative head pops into her room. "About what you were saying earlier," he says "Were you joking?" She feels the corners of her lips tugging up. "Rowan whitethorn, I never lie about wanting to get laid." Aelin pulls him in, closing the door shut behind them, and kisses him. That kiss is her awakening, its warm and sensual, and everything she wanted. It's rough and full of hatred and desperation. None of them want it, but both of them need it. He pulls back, panting. "Are you sure?" Aelin nods. "We're enemies." "I know," "We're going to regret this," "I know that, too," and-not giving him another chance to speak, Aelin pulls him back in, moaning into the kiss. He runs his tongue against the seam of her lips, and she opens up for him, feeling herself unraveling. He pulls back again, "bed." The sound is guttural, a command that makes her weak in the knees. "Now." she can hardly get there fast enough. He un fastens his belt, pulling down his pants and shirt, stripping down to his boxers.

He crawls over to her on the bed, nearing his mouth to that flimsy strap on her shoulder. "I hate you," She breathes out. He bites the strap, pulling it down her shoulders. "Me too," and with that, he completely strips her, leaving her bare infront of him. Aelin leans over to remove his boxers, and almost moans at the sight.

Without any warning, Rowan thrusts in, earning a loud, needy moan. His pace is perfect, fast, efficient and so fucking good. They both know they shouldn't be doing this. This is getting the edge off, both of them want each other, and it's driving them insane. They're both using each other to dull that edge. He hits that spot, the one that she needs, and she whimpers, tightening her grip in his hair, "Fuck, Rowan-!" all the feelings she's been having drive over the edge, and she feels release, heaving and whimpering a sound that might be his name.

He continues, and there's something right, she thinks, something right in Rowan using her for his pleasure. His pace is relentless, and finally, he comes too. They both lay there, a panting, sweaty mess, but Aelin pushes him off her, getting on top of him and positioning herself above his dick. She pulls herself down on him, bouncing on it, and Rowan moans, "gods-Aelin!" She bounces on top of him, seemingly hitting all the right spots according to his continuous moans. She grins down at him, "What, already tired?" Rowan looks up at her, "Not a chance, Aelin," Proving his point, Rowan slaps her ass from behind and she moans, fastening her pace. Rowan continues to play with and occasionally slap her butt, all while Aelin moans on top of him, her chest bouncing along with her. This time, they both come at the same time,and their moans echo into the room.

Rowan glances at the clock on top of the fireplace, and swears. "I have to go." Without any further explanation, he runs into the shower, leaving in five minutes fully clothed and exits the room. Aelin stays in the bed, thinking.

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