“I had a bad dream.”
His hand loosens, fingers drifting up, skimming my shoulder, then into my hair, making long, slow strokes.
“What happened?” He presses his mouth to the back of my head, a soft, sleepy kiss.
I stare into the dark, the soft strokes of his fingers soothing. “It was the night they took me. Silas was behind me, his hand over my mouth. That guy was in front of me, the one from the TV, Hargrove’s aide. I don’t know, it was scary. Like reliving it.”
“You’re safe,” he whispers, his low voice rumbly. “Your brain’s just trying to process it. But you’re here with me now.”
I let my eyes close with a sigh.
“I’ll always protect you,” he promises. “Always.”
“Okay,” I say with a smile. I wriggle back into him, pressing my spine tighter to his chest. There is no safer place I can imagine than this. He exhales and lifts my hair and then his mouth is at my neck—one kiss, then another.
“Hey,” he murmurs, fingers threading through mine where my hand rests on the sheet. “About tonight.”
“Yeah?”
“You good?”
“Yeah…?” I say slowly, unsure why he’s asking.
“I just want to check in, you know. Parts of it were a little rough.”
Ryder spanking me, Ryder telling me that naughty girls get punished, Ryder telling me to take his cock…
“Um, it got rough in all the right ways,” I breathe, smiling.
He laughs low. “So you liked that, did you? Brat.”
“Oh, very much.” I turn my head over my shoulder so I can look at him. Dark, shining eyes, full lips with a curve of mischief in them, his hair loose and falling over his shoulders. “I came very hard, as you may remember.”
“I do remember.” He smiles. “I think that’s whatIwas dreaming about.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm. Yeah.” He leans forward, over my shoulder, and kisses me softly. His tongue teases the seam of my lips until I open for him, and then his hand tightens at my jaw, angling my face so he can taste me fully.
My whole body melts into the kiss, every muscle unwinding with relief. The tension from the nightmare vanishes, replaced by the slow heat that spreads from my core. My hand curls around his wrist, holding him there. It’s sweetness threadedwith hunger, and when he finally pulls back, I notice how quickly my heart is beating.
He lies down on his side again and draws me in until my ass is pressed against him. His thigh slides between mine, and the hard press of his cock along my spine makes my whole body ache with answering need.
His mouth finds my neck and lingers this time, his hand gliding over my stomach, then up my ribs, fingers spreading. He cups one breast in his large, warm palm.
“You’re hard,” I whisper, smiling.
“Mm-hm,” he murmurs. “Pretty much every second of the day for you.”
His hand slides back down my stomach and this time I take it and guide it between my thighs to where I’m still tender. He growls low and soft in my ear, fingers gently finding their way. I gasp when he touches me, so gentle at first. Careful.
I arch into his hand, needing his touch. I’m wet already, and I moan as his fingers slip easily through the slick heat. I reach back, grabbing at his arm, not wanting him to stop, and he laughs softly, pleased.
“Christ, Max. I’m absolutely fucking obsessed with you.”
I run my hand blindly over his body. The hard line of his abdomen, the ridge of muscle, the warmth of his skin. Then lower, to his hip, and then the soft hair at the base of his cock. His breath shudders against my hair.
“Are you sore?” he asks quietly.
