I grind my ass into the bulge of his crotch. “You like it.”
“No, Ana,” he breathes. “I fucking love it.”
He reaches under my blouse, the skin-to-skin contact sending shocks through my core. (Who needs a zapper? Ryan’s hands are electric enough.) He runs his fingers along the band and straps of my bra before moving to cup my breasts over the fabric, teasing my nipples between his fingers. I arch back against him.
“Christ,” he groans.
“Won’t find Him in there, either.”
“Wouldn’t be so sure,” he says, working his way down my torso. “Your body is the closest I’ve come to seeing God.”
He feels around my waistline, hesitating only a moment before skating his hand down the front of my pants and into my underwear. When he finds my drenched pussy, he seems to be in no hurry to keep looking for the key.
He slides wet fingers over my clit, drawing my breath out in a whoosh, and rubs it slowly, deliberately, working me expertly toward orgasm. I’m so hot, it doesn’t take much, but just as I’m about to come, he pulls his hand out of my pants entirely. From the corner of my eye I see him put his fingers in his mouth.
I steady myself against the doorframe. “Who h-has the torture kink?” I ask unevenly.
“Looks like we were made for each other,” he says.
I try to ignore how…significantthat sounds, focusing instead on his glazed expression as he drops to his knees, feeling each thigh, then down my calves. My blood is effervescent, rushing to every spot he touches like it’s made of metal and his hands are magnets.
Finally, when he tucks his fingers inside the cuff of my pants, he knows he’s hit pay dirt. He pulls the key out from where it rests against my ankle.
“Thank god,” he says shakily, tapping it against the door as he rises. He swings it wide and gestures for me to precede him into the room.
We don’t get far—the moment the door closes behind us, he’spressing me against it roughly, his lips on mine punishing. He breaks away long enough to splay hot kisses down my neck, along my collarbone. When he dips his tongue deep inside my ear, like he did after that first time we kissed, I again feel a jolt right through to my clit. My knees give out from the sheer overwhelming pleasure, and he catches me before I collapse. He lifts me up against the door, pushing into the V of my legs, every inch of his torso against mine, as though he’s trying to vacuum-seal our bodies together.
He’s sucking a spot below my ear that causes the most pathetic whimpering sounds to escape my mouth. I’m all body and earthly delights and no self-consciousness whatsoever.
How is this man so skilled at teasing every erogenous zone that exists on a woman’s body? He must have had lots of sex in his life.
Something whirls in my stomach, an undertow dragging me under.
I banish that thought from my mind. He can have as much sex as he wants, with anyone he wants. If I’m the beneficiary of the skills he hones during his trysts, lucky me.Just appreciate it, Ana. Needless quease begone.
“I believe I was promised a hard fuck,” I pant.
His teeth scrape along my neck. “Impatient, are you?”
“I’d say I’ve been pretty patient—waited for it all day,” I confess, past the point of self-preservation. So what if he knows? It’s not like he feels any differently, judging by the evidence driving against me.
“Waited for me to fuck you hard,” he says, as if the words taste delicious in his mouth. “To give your greedy pussy the treatment it craves.”
Of their own volition, my muscles clench. He feels it right where his own need is concentrated most, his eyes closing unsteadily. I can barely breathe, let alone respond, loving that this taciturn man has such a mouth on him.
Still holding me up with strong hands under my ass, he walksfarther into the room, which I vaguely note looks like he just arrived, nary a personal item scattered anywhere. Even his suitcase is tucked away, fulfilling my expectation of him so thoroughly, so reliably, it makes my throat swell.
I dismiss the thought, climbing down and undressing as quickly as humanly possible. My clothes crumple on the floor at my feet, the only thing out of place in his pristine room. Ryan is riveted, cataloging my every move.
“Get on the bed,” he says. His voice is low, the command firm.
I sit, my breasts swaying, and his eyes flash to them as he falls to his knees before me. He pushes my legs open, exhales a harsh breath when a crude sound emanates from my wet labia parting. “Fuck,” he growls, descending as if by rote—as if he can’t possibly see the evidence of my desire without diving for it, living to satisfy it.
And satisfy it he does. His light edging from the hallway comes to fruition as he goes to work on my pussy like it’s his literal job. The flat of his tongue delivering consistently, with single-minded dedication.
“Ryan,” I gasp. “Don’t stop—I’m going to come.”
He groans in response, making out with my clit like it’s the love of his life, sucking on it, his fingers stroking inside me zealously until the sensations are so overwhelming I don’t know which part of him is pushing me over the edge—I just know I’m flying like a winged creature in a clear blue sky.
