We unpacked the basket, laying out a feast on the small table. Fresh biscuits still warm from the oven, thick slices of ham, jars of homemade jam, boiled eggs, and a thermos of hot coffee. There was even a container of mixed berries with cream for dessert.
“She’s trying to fatten me up,” I joked, pouring coffee into the mugs Ryder had found in the cupboard.
“You could use it,” he replied, eyeing my frame. “Prison didn’t exactly leave you with extra padding.”
I laughed, the sound surprising me with its ease. “True enough. Though I’ve put on some muscle since coming to the ranch. Hard work and three squares a day will do that.”
I lifted my arms, flexing for Ryder. His jaw fell open, his eyes raking over me with a hunger that I knew far too well.
“Come on,” I muttered, pushing him toward the table. “Food first, then sex.”
Chapter 19
Ryder
Isat at the picnic table with Connor, watching the creek dance lazily in the sun. The weather was gorgeous, the sun was warm, and everything was perfect. But I’ll admit, I was getting a little impatient. This was Connor’s only day off for a while and we hadn’t seen each other for two weeks. I’d faithfully worn his cock ring, proving I belonged to him. I’d even denied myself release for a few days to make sure this meeting would be especially explosive.
But so far, Connor hadn’t made a move. And I was starting to worry that nothing was going to happen.
We’d already spent a couple of hours eating breakfast and talking. I’d told him stories about my new job at Nelson Ranch, and he’d filled me in on all the drama at my father’s place. Our conversation had been easy, comfortable in a way I’d never experienced with anyone else. But now we were just sitting, enjoying the scenery, and my body was practically vibrating with need.
I shifted on the bench, trying to ease the pressure of my jeans against my hardening cock. The metal ring encircling the base made every movement more intense, a constant reminder of who I belonged to.
“Something wrong?” Connor asked, his voice deceptively casual. The slight upturn at the corner of his mouth told me he knew exactly what was bothering me.
“No,” I lied, clearing my throat. “Just enjoying the view.”
“Is that right?” He raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes studying me with that penetrating gaze that always made me feel like he could see right through me. “Because it looks like something’s on your mind.”
I bit my lip, weighing my options. I could be patient, let him set the pace like a good boy. Or I could tell him what I wanted. What I needed.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” I admitted, my voice dropping lower. “About us. About what we might do with a whole day to ourselves.”
Connor took a slow sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug. “Have you now?”
“Two weeks is a long time,” I said, meeting his gaze. “And I’ve been wearing your ring every day, just like I promised.”
His eyes darkened at that, and I saw his grip tighten on the mug. “Have you touched yourself while wearing it?”
The question sent a jolt of heat straight to my groin. “Yes, sir,” I whispered. “But not for the last three days. I’ve been saving that for you.”
Connor set down his mug with deliberate slowness. The predatory look that crossed his face made my breath catch. In one fluid motion, he stood and moved around the table, stopping directly behind me. I felt his large hand settle on the back of my neck, warm and firm.
“Inside,” he commanded, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me. “Now.”
I practically leapt to my feet, my heart pounding with anticipation. Connor followed close behind as I hurried toward the cabin, his presence like a physical weight against my back. Assoon as we crossed the threshold, he shut the door and pressed me against it, his body caging mine.
“What exactly have you been thinking about?” he asked, his mouth hovering just above mine, not quite touching. “Tell me, Ryder.”
I swallowed hard, my hands instinctively finding his waist. “I’ve been thinking about you tying me up,” I confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “About being completely at your mercy.”
Connor’s eyes flashed with hunger, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. His hand moved to cup my jaw, thumb pressing against my bottom lip.
“You want to be tied up?” he asked, voice rough with desire. “Completely helpless? At my mercy?”
“Yes,” I breathed, my cock straining painfully against my jeans. “Please, sir.”
He studied me for a long moment, then stepped back. I almost whimpered at the loss of contact until I saw him reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a length of thin, soft rope that I hadn’t even realized he was carrying.
