I gazed up at him, my eyes halfway rolled back in my head and his chest hairs tickling my nipples in the worst-best way, and the only words I could manage were "I want to feel you come inside merightnow."
If it was possible, he swelled and lengthened, and I was sure I'd be feeling echoes of his cockfordays.
"Suck," he said, his fingers pressed to my lips. I opened my mouth and instantly tasted my arousal on him. "Hard. Bite me alittle."
I did, and he brought his other hand between my hipbones. I moaned around his fingers, savoring the heavy drag of him over my swollen tissues and the pressure of his palm. It was so much. Too much. Like he was trying to claim a piece of me as much as I was claiming a pieceofhim.
At once, his body tightened. Every muscle was pulled taut, his jaw impossibly rigid and his hold on me almost painful. He pulled his fingers from my mouth and pitched forward, bracing himself ononearm.
"Oh, fuck. What are you doing to me,Aly?Fuck."
Riley stilled and our eyes met and I felt it then, the unmistakable throb and jerk that signaled his orgasm. He was humming and growlingas he pulsed inside me, and I couldn't fill my hands with enough of him. I wanted to touch every inch, memorize his skin in this moment, absorb his scent, and stow it all away for the day when I wasn't the source of his pleasureanymore.
"I love fucking you," he whispered, ducking his head to drop kisses over my shouldersandneck.
For a moment, I thought he'd proclaimed something different. Something I didn't know how to hear, not yet. But then I replayed his words, understanding what he'd said when I put them in the intended order. Of course he wasn't professing his love forme. Just whatwe'ddone.
I was relieved, and the tiniest bitwistful.
"It's mutual," Imurmured.
Riley pulled out but instead of flopping down on the bed or heading to the bathroom, his eyes between my legs, a smug smile on his face. My entire body heated when I realized he was staring at his orgasm fresh on myfolds.
"I'm going to jerk off to that for the rest of my fucking life," he said, rubbing his jaw as he gazedatme.
I layered my hands over my face, laughing. "You're still half hard and already making jerk-offplans?"
"Shut up," he said, slapping my thigh. "You start talking about lunch while you're eatingbreakfast."
"A girl'sgottaeat."
Riley gestured to his cock. "So does he." Tucking himself beside me, he ran a gentle hand from my neck to my navel. "I mean it. Ilovefucking you. You're fun and dirty, and you make it hurt just like I need. My cock was made for you. I'm sureofit."
He smiled, and in my head, I heardI fucking love youagain.
"Maybe it's the other way around," I said. His brows wrinkled as he considered this. "My pussy was madeforyou."
I brushed Riley's dark, wavy hair from his forehead, and pulled him down to meet my lips. He kissed me, and then pulled back only enough to say, "Maybe we're meant for eachother."
And then I slid, all the way down thatslope.
ChapterTwenty
Riley
"I'm hungry,"Alex announced. I nodded; I was starved. A little dehydrated, too. "Let's get something to eat. Delivery, of course. I don't think I can walkrightnow."
I smiled over at her, still breathless and broken in the best—the fuckingbest—ways. "We'll order a pizza. I know a few places that deliver at"—I blinked at the alarm clock seated on the side table—"two in themorning."
"Yeah," she replied, nuzzling her face into the crook of my shoulder. "Let'sdothat."
But we didn't, not right away. Every time I'd shift to find my phone, the smooth slide of her skin overruled all other needs. Or she'd scrape her nails down my back and we'd tumble into each other again, hungry in new ways. Bent over the side of the bed. Straddling me. On all fours. Nothing quenched my desire for her. It multiplied, expanding in volume and density as I learnedherbody.
Hours passed and the sun rose before we climbed out of bed, bellies empty and limbs loose, and we raided her kitchen. We returned with an odd assortment of snacks—tortilla chips, several half-full pints of ice cream, string cheese—and ate naked, covered only by pastelsheets.
"This is going to come out wrong no matter how I say it," I said, brushing salt and bits of chip from her breasts. It was more than a lazy attempt at copping a feel. I was decent enough to keep crumbs out ofthebed.
"Just say it," she said,laughing.
