I want more; I want everything.
And he gives me everything.
His hands tighten on my thighs, holding me open for him as if he can’t get enough. “Let go,” he commands in a low, husky voice between my legs, his tongue relentless against my throbbing clit. “Give me all of you.”
His mouth moves lower, kissing my entrance, teasing me for a moment before plunging his tongue inside. The sensation is electrifying, and I cry out, arching my back, trying to push myself closer to him, to get more of him.
“Fuuuck,” I scream, my voice raw with need. The intensity of his touch, the way he devours me, it’s too much and not enough all at once.
His fingers join the fray, slipping inside me, curling upward in a perfect rhythm. The dual sensation of his fingers and tongue drives me wild, my hips bucking against his mouth. He knows exactly how to push me over the edge, how to take me apart and put me back together.
“Ryder, I’m so close,” I gasp.
His response is a renewed fervor, his fingers pumping faster, his tongue flickingharder.
“Cora?” A stern, heavy voice cuts through the haze I’m in like an ice bucket dumped over my head.
I open my eyes at once, reality crashing in with brutal force.
Dad.
He’s standing at the patio door, his mouth hanging open like he’s trying to catch flies. His eyes dart around as if hoping to find a reasonable explanation for the scene before him.
I scream, diving into the churning waters faster than an Olympic swimmer.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” I shout, covering my breasts with my arms, wishing I could melt into the bubbles. Ryder doesn’t say a word. He looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“Get out of here, Dad!” I screech, my voice reaching a pitch only dogs should be able to hear. “Go away!”
He finally comes to his senses and goes back inside, closing the door behind him with a loud click that seems to echo in the sudden silence.
I bury my face in my hands, wondering if it’s possible to drown oneself in a jacuzzi. “God, I’m dead. He saw us. I’m never leaving this pool. I live here now. I am one with the bubbles.”
Tension relief? I could be used as a bowstring right now. I’m so wound up. I’ll never recover from what just happened.
“I’m never having sex again,” I groan. “That was the last time. Maybe I’ll become a nun. Do nuns get jacuzzis?”
“Calm down,” Ryder says. “It’ll be okay. Look on the bright side—at least we weren’t playing Marco Polo.”
I shoot him a glare that could melt steel. “Not. Helping.”
“Sorry.”
“You don’t know him,” I say, my voice quivering. “He’s going to lose it.”
Ryder’s grip on my arms tightens, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that steals my breath. “Does he hurt you?” The question is soft, but I can hear the dangerous undercurrent in his voice.
“No. Of course not.” I shake my head. “I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“He’ll go ballistic. He’ll fire you.”
Ryder’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “That’s a risk I knowingly took when I made you mine.”
His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, offering comfort even as fear gnaws at my insides. I nod, drawing in a shaky breath.
“Okay. I can do this. I can stand up to him.” Memories of past confrontations with my father flash through my mind. “I’ve done it before when I told him I was starting my own company instead of continuing to work for the Valeur empire. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but I succeeded. I can do it again.”
