A wave of pleasure engulfed me quickly and I could barely keep my eyes open, barely breathe. “Clit,” I managed.
“Hmm. Let’s see about that.”
Ryan shifted, pushing my legs wider. He rested his head on my thigh and—and I stopped being able to form words when he sucked at my clit, hard and steady. He kept one hand on my breast, still busy torturing a nipple, and the other between my legs, stroking everything but my aching core.
He pulled off and stared at me with a slight smile. “Yeah, you do like that.” He ran a knuckle down the length of my seam, down between my cheeks and then back up again. “Is that all this toy did for you?”
His mouth was wet but he made no move to wipe it off. For a minute, it was the only thing I could focus on. Then I blurted out, “I can’t come unless I have something inside me.”
Ryan’s brows went up and he nodded like we were discussing the type of potting soil I used for my succulents. He went on tracing me with that knuckle, his touch so light that I had to rock toward him to get more. “Like this?”
Two fingers pushed inside me at the same moment his mouth returned to my clit. My back arched off the bed when he drew me between his lips with firm, relentless pulls. Everything inside me tightened, twisted. It throbbed and ached. And I couldn’t just lie there anymore. I had to—had todosomething.
I shifted up, my hands lost in the millions of pillows as I tried to find a better angle, to open myself wider. Because I needed more and I was mindless for it.
“That’s right,” he said, glancing up at me. “Watch. See what I do to you.”
From this angle, I could see his jaw ticking as he treated me to the kind of long, steady suction I love and the way hisshoulder rolled with every thrust of his fingers inside me. I saw his hips bucking against the mattress too.
My belly swooped and a fresh new rush of heat moved through me at the sight. I didn’t know this would have that kind of effect on him. And this wasn’t any slow, lazy thrusting to take the edge off. It was rough, disorderly rutting.
I dragged my fingers through his hair, pulling a little to get his attention. He only sucked harder, leaving me hot, desperate, and clenching while I watched his rowdy hips grind into the mattress.
“I want to know how to get you there,” he said, his words hoarse and his eyes hazy. “I need you to come on my tongue.”
I gripped my knees, holding my legs open as wide as I could manage. The wet sound of his fingers, the feel of them filling me as he seemed to unravel every one of the nerves attached to my clit made me dizzy with need. I was almost there. Just another minute and all the pressure gathered low in my belly would overflow and he’d—he’d?—
“Are you gonna come with me?” I barely recognized my voice, husky and heavy with meaning. He murmured against my damp flesh and nodded, his silky hair sliding against my thigh, and it was like he’d cut the tether holding me back. As the orgasm rippled through me, all I could say was “Oh, fuck, Ryan.Please.”
Unable to hold myself up any longer, I dissolved into the pillows, chest heaving and my core pulsing hard around his fingers. I felt like no part of me truly existed beyond that slick spot between my legs. Everything else was secondary. Arms, legs, head—none of it mattered. Just tools for making my body do this bright, stunning thing that I could barely call an orgasm because it eclipsed everything I thought I understood about the kinds of pleasure I could experience.
Then, as I twitched and shuddered through the last waves, Ryan dropped his head to my inner thigh and groaned with such force, I was certain it shook the foundation of the house. He rocked into the mattress at a frenzied pace and I felt his teeth on my skin. He thrust his fingers into me, his palm flat on my clit, and his entire body jerked so hard, his shoulders drove my legs wide open again.
His hips sank into the mattress as he released a long, ragged breath. We were a jumble of limbs with my legs splayed and half his hand buried inside me but neither of us made any move to change that. We didn’t say a word, didn’t even glance at each other for a minute.
But then I couldn’t go another moment without asking, “How did you—I mean, just…from this?”
He tipped his face up to me, head still pillowed on my thigh. “Do you have any idea how hot you are?”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s not get carried away.”
“I’m not.” A wet noise filled the room as he withdrew his fingers, but instead of wiping them on the sheets, he went back to circling my clit. A shiver darted through me and I tried to twist away from those almost-painful tingles but he held me down with a forearm over my hips. “Don’t lie to me and say you stop at one.”
“Sometimes I do,” I snapped.
He dropped his gaze to my cleft, watching as he tormented my aching clit. “You’re not stopping at one tonight.”
I wanted to argue with him. Tell him it wasn’t his decision to make. But we both knew this wasn’t about who called the shots. It was about letting go of the boundaries and rules I thought we needed and it was about letting go of the relationship we had before all of this started. Before we got married and consummated the hell out of it.
“You’ve made me come in my pantstwice,” he said, still staring at my most private place. “What’s it going to take for you to understand that you’re the hottest, sexiest, most alluring woman I’ve ever seen?”
I clutched a pillow to my face. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I don’t like playing make-believe. You’re obviously exaggerating and?—”
“I’m fuckingwhat?” His brows pinched together and he scowled up at me but he kept stroking my clit. My head wanted to argue. My pussy wanted to be stuffed. It was very confusing. “I’ve never done this before”
