I glance at the bed to find the blanket missing, confirming his story. It doesn’t make me feel much better, though. I still don’t like any of this.
“Speaking of naked… I’d like you to get naked right now,” Ryder tells me, his voice low and husky.
I turn around to find him standing closer than I thought, so close I have to tilt my head up to look at his face. The mood in the room shifts. I go from being nervous and scared to feeling excited and content.
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, he drags it up and over my head slowly, then throws it to the floor, adding to the pile. My bra is next. He cups both of my breasts once they are free, massaging them and toying with my nipples, drawing tiny moans from me.
By the time he gets to my jeans, he is not so patient anymore. He yanks the zip down and pulls the jeans down my legs, taking my panties with them. I step out of my shoes and stand in front of him completely naked, while he hasn’t taken off anything yet.
Reaching for his shirt, I grab hold of the soft fabric and pull it up. He lifts his arms, helping me get it off. I drop it on the floor next to mine, reaching for his pants, but he swats my hand away and picks me up instead.
With a gasp, I wrap my arms around his neck on instinct, and my legs around his waist. A moment later, my back is pressed against the door.
Ryder holds me up with one arm and his body while he undoes his pants. Then he slowly lowers me, guiding me onto him. He fills me with one deep thrust, burying himself inside me. I cling to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as he rocks against me.
Our faces are only inches apart, and I wonder if he would kiss me. He tips his head and presses his forehead against mine. Our noses brush against each other. We are both panting. His minty breath only makes me want to kiss him more… taste him. But I’m scared. Scared that he doesn’t want to. Scared that this is still nothing more than me paying him back.
He drives into me over and over again, pushing me against the door harder and hard. With every thrust, he rubs against my clit, bringing me closer to the edge.
When I feel my orgasm looming, the urge to kiss him overcomes me. His eyes are closed, his face contorting in pleasure.
On a whim, I lean in and place my lips on his. He pulls back, and his eyes fly open, but he doesn’t stop fucking me against the door. Surprise flashes over his face, and I’m about to say sorry, but then his lips are back on mine.
Our kiss is urgent, primal, and possessive. He kisses me like he has been waiting for this for a hundred years. Like a starving man eating a meal. What is even moresurprising is there is something familiar about this kiss. Almost as if this isn’t our first time. A sense of déjà vu overcomes me.
The kiss only intensifies my arousal. The orgasm slams into me, overtaking my complete body. Ryder keeps fucking me through it, only elongating it. I’m still coming when he finds his release, grunting and grinding himself into me so deep I can feel him at the end of my channel.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck until he catches his breath. He is still holding up all my weight, and I’m thankful because my limbs feel boneless right now. I don’t think I could stand up if I tried.
He carries me to the attached bathroom, which I didn’t even know was there until now. He puts me on my feet but keeps one arm around me, holding me up. Closing my eyes, I lean against him, my cheek pressing against his warm chest.
I hear the water in the shower being turned on and feel tiny escaping droplets on my heated skin. We wait until the water is hot before he guides me under the spray. After a few minutes, I feel my strength resurface, and I’m able to stand up on my own.
Reaching for the shampoo, I’m about to wash my hair, but Ryder takes it from me. Pouring a healthy amount into his palm, he washes my hair for me.
“I like taking care of you,” he admits, shocking the hell out of me.
“I like you taking care of me,” I whisper after a moment. It’s true, I like this, maybe even need it. I have dreamed about being an independent woman, free from any man, but now I find myself giving in to this, accepting it in a way.
I know I’m playing a dangerous game, letting myself rely on someone again, needing someone to care for me. I’m giving Ryder a lot of power, and I’m trusting him not to abuse it.
As he rinses out my hair, I stare at his muscular, tattoo-covered chest, wanting to run my fingers over it. Watching his muscles flex each time he moves only intensifies that urge, but I stop myself. I’m still unsure what this is between us, how this works, and what I’m allowed to do. Whatever we have, I feel like it’s fragile, and I need to treat it with care.
After he is done with my hair, he grabs a washcloth and covers it in soap. He runs it over my entire body, washing every part of me, paying special attention between my thighs.
Once I’m clean, he rinses out the washcloth before reapplying soap. Instead of washing himself, he holds his hand out to me. I look at the washcloth for a second before it clicks in my head.
I take it from him, excitement swirling deep in my core, as I run the soapy cloth over his skin. Beginning with his chest, the place I’ve been yearning to touch. Making sure not to cover my hand with the fabric completely, I let my fingertips run over his skin.
Taking my time, I wash his entire body just as he washed mine. I enjoy every second. Enjoy how he lets me explore every inch of him. After everything we’ve done, nothing has felt more intimate than this.
All too soon, the shower is over. We step out, and Ryder retrieves two largertowels from the linen closet. He wraps me up in one and dries himself off with the other. While I dry my hair, he grabs some sheets from the same closet he got the towels from and spreads them out on the bed.
“I’ll get a new blanket tomorrow. Are you hungry?”
“No, I ate before you showed up.”Kicked down the door and barreled in like a tank.
I hang the wet towels over the shower stall to dry and walk into the bedroom. Ryder takes in my naked form.
