“Yes, and I was hungry.” Rolling over to the side so his back pressed against the headboard, Ryder pulled me onto his lap, my legs automatically spreading to each side of his hips, barely able to fit.
“I wasasleep, Ryder,” I reiterated, shaking my head as if it was obvious why I was annoyed. “As in not conscious.”
“And yet you still came on my tongue.” He gently placed my palms on his chest, holding them there when I went to push away. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”
I felt my cheeks flush red, because frustratingly I did enjoy it. More than I should.
“What are you doing?” I asked stiffly, trying to pull my hands back once more. “What happened to the whole ‘no touching’ thing?”
“I’m testing a theory.”
“A theory?”
His cock was hard against his jeans, but he didn’t do anything besides brush his fingertips over my hands slowly. Only when he was satisfied I wouldn’t move did he cup my jaw, his thumb smoothing over my bottom lip. “To see whether you set off my fucked-up brain.”
I was at a loss for words.
Ryder had this way of dragging reactions out of me I didn’t even know existed, touching me with that edge of violence, taking what he wanted and making me want it too. And the worst part was how easily my body betrayed me, melting beneath his rough, possessive hands.
But right now, he held me as if I was fragile, and somehow, my hands on his chest didn’t seem to unsettle him.
“Well?” I asked after a moment, my fingers itching to trace the frown tugging at his brows. Ryder rarely frowned, always hiding behind that cocky attitude. Some selfish part of me hoped I was destabilising him as much as he was affecting me. “What’s the result?”
Instead of answering, he leaned forward and closed the distance between us.
For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me again, his mouth hovering just above mine, as if he was fighting with himself.
Then, instead, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to my shoulder.
My chest had no right to ache from something as fleeting as his brief show of tenderness.
I searched his eyes when he leaned back, not sure what I expected to find. Ryder was an enigma, cold beneath the charm he wore like armour, yet his fingers traced idle patterns over my bare skin, tightening only when he sensed I might pull away.
In all honesty, I expected to wake up alone, so the fact he was here was… confusing.
When I finally pushed against him, his grip tightened on me. “I need to get up,” I mumbled, not sounding convincing in the least.
He leaned closer, caging me in.“Do you, though?” His mouth grazed my ear, his voice deliciously husky. “We could stay here all day. Order food. Introduce my cock to some other holes. Seems only fair.”
Seriously, he was like a walking whiplash.
“Do you ever think about anything besides sex?” I pushed harder against his chest, trying to create space that he refused to give.
“Sometimes.” He began to play with my hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. “I’m not going to apologise for enjoying sex.”
“But it’s not just sex with you though, is it? It’s about power.”
He shrugged. “Same thing.”
“No,” I said softly, searching his face. “Not really.”
He just watched me, that unreadable look passing behind his eyes. I wanted to push, to peel back the small, guarded pieces of him he’d started to let slip. To understand what he was hiding beneath those easy smirks and need for control.
“You like it when I take,” he said finally, his voice rough, sending shivers over my skin. “You get wet thinking about surrendering. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
He leaned in, his mouth close to my ear, his breath hot and steady.
“I see it in you. The way your body softens when I tell you what to do. The way you hold your breath like you’re waiting to be fucked.” His tone lowered, each word deliberate, cutting through the small space between us like a blade. “If I flipped you over right now, you’d part those pretty thighs again without a word. You’d let me. Christ, you’d even beg me.”
