That would mean it’s time to go home. Face the music.
Face the choices I’ve made. The changes I need to make. Although I didn’t have any nightmares last night. That seems noteworthy, considering I’ve had them more often than not these past few weeks.
The deep rumble of a masculine growl draws my nipples to tight, aching points.
“Fuck.” The deep, scraped-bare sound of Ryder’s voice in the morning—it’severything.
“I know.”
“Too early.”
“I know.”
“Didn’t we just fall asleep?”
“Yes. I think so. We—so many times I?—”
“Lost count?”
“Yes.”
I only remember I’m naked when Ryder’s hand moves lazily down my bare belly. I’m a back sleeper, and he’s on his side.
His stubble scrapes my shoulder as he kisses me there.
“Mornin’, beautiful.”
I bite my lip.This is so good so soon. It’s scary.
“Morning, handsome.”
His hand moves lower. I moan when his fingers part me, slipping gently inside my slickness. Who knew you could wake up soaking wet?
He growls again. “Fuck.”
“I know.”
“You sore?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Again. Can we? Please?”
It’s pitch dark in the room, which means it’s pitch dark outside. No surprise there. Ryder set his alarm for three a.m.
“I don’t want you hurtin’.” He runs the pads of his fingers over my clit. “How about I make you come like this? Will that suffice?”
“No.”
He chuckles. “I’ll be gentle, then.”
Ryder rolls on top of me, using his knee to nudge my legs apart. He kisses my collarbone. My neck. He carefully bends my leg and presses my knee to my chest.
His leaking head meets with my leg as he ducks to kiss my nipples. They tingle, and I gasp.
Beard burn.I bet if I looked, my skin would be red. Chapped.
