I bite my lower lip. “Okay. Prove it.”
He grins wolfishly, then ducks his head again and licks me everywhere. My eyes squeeze shut, reveling in the sensation. It’s like he’s mapping my pussy with his tongue, finding every part of it with his mouth. I must be flooding his tongue with how turned on he has me, but he swallows every drop patiently.
I don’t know how he manages to keep eating me out without taking a break or coming up for breath. All I know is that he keeps going until I’m wrung out and exhausted, a messy heap of sated pleasure lying back helplessly on the couch. Finally, he raises his head and licks his lips. He looks so roguish and sexy that my heart skips another beat.
“Are you ready for my cock, Pips?”
I have to laugh then, because I’m beyond ready. I just came so hard that I don’t need a second more of warming up. I need Ryan to inside me so badly.
“That’s right, baby,” he says proudly.
He crawls on top of me and kisses me. This time, it isn’t desperate. It’s sweet, almost, the way we share a breath. Then, the fat head of his cock nudging against my over-sensitized opening, and I whimper.
“Too much?” Ryan murmurs against my lips. The muscles of his shoulders strain as he holds himself perfectly still, his eyes fixed on mine.
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t stop, please.”
He pushes inside me, and as warmed up as I am, the first inch stretches me just to the point of pain. I whimper, and he presses his forehead against mine.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises. “You’ve been so good coming for me, you’ve earned it.”
He takes his time filling me, kissing me through it and running his thumb coaxingly over my cheek. Once he’s fully inside me, he groans.
“Fuck, you were made for this,” he moans. “Made formycock.”
I don’t miss the emphasis onmy.I’d roll my eyes at the possessiveness if it didn’t fill my chest with pride. I love knowing I’m the one making him feel so good—I’mthe one earning his praise.
Ryan is shockingly, unbelievably careful as he fucks me. He cradles my face in his hands, holding himself up on his elbows as he rolls his hips. His strokes are slow and shallow, but every one of them hits a spot inside me that lights up every nerve. I grab onto his biceps as my vision goes hazy. It’s like Ryan is the only real thing, while the rest of the world blurs around him.
I stare up at myself, letting those dark eyes draw me in. It feels like I could crawl right inside him and hear his heart beating like it’s mine. Our breaths mingle together, the seconds stretching into long, intimate minutes.
“I’m going to fill you up now, baby,” he says. “I want you to let it drip down your thighs all day, so you remember who you belong to.”
As if I could forget. As if Ryan isn’t permanently burned into my consciousness, his name repeating itself in the background of every conversation. He was in too deep, long before this.
His mouth crashes down on mine one last time, swallowing my cries as I come around his cock a second before he follows me. We cling to each other through the comedown of ourorgasms, my sweaty skin slick against his. I can feel it against my own chest when his heartbeats finally start to slow.
After a moment, he shifts us awkwardly so he’s on his back and I’m curled into his chest. I run my fingers idly across his chest muscles, letting my body take its time coming down.
“What are you doing for the next few days?” he asks sleepily.
Ryan’s fingers trace idle patterns along my spine, his touch gentler now, almost reverent. He presses a lazy kiss to the top of my head and sighs into me.
“Working,” I groan. I have so much writing to do, I don’t even want to think about it, especially not while my mind is hazy with post-orgasm bliss.
Ryan hums. “Could you do that remotely?”
“I guess so. Why?”
He props himself up on his elbow and gazes down at me. A strand of hair falls down over his forehead, and the need to brush it back swells in my chest.
“I’ve got a tournament in Puerto Rico. I’m leaving late tonight, and I’ll be there for a few days. You should come be my good luck charm.”
I gape at him. “You’re crazy. We hate each other, remember? How the hell would I explain a romantic getaway to anyone?”
“You won’t have to. Cat and Nate are traveling again, so she’ll have no idea, and you can just tell Ingrid you have a cold or something.” He lowers his head so his forehead brushes lightly against mine. His eyes are bright, full of giddy excitement. “No one would have to know, Pips. We’d just be two gorgeous strangers lying on the beach in San Juan. Nobody watching us but the perverts.”
My heart thuds so loudly, it feels impossible that Ryan can’t hear it. It all sounds too tempting—a romantic vacation by the beach with no strings attached.
