Page 118 of Resist

“I was saying”—he shifts and straddles my hips, that cock of his now front and center and slowly hardening against my lower belly—“that you said something I caught. Something about me making you want to have an orgasm. Vaughn Sanders . . . have you never had an orgasm before?”

I stare at him, eyes wide and mouth shocked open into an O, as I realize I slipped and gave him that very personal information. I squeak out a noise, and my hands fly to cover my face in absolute mortification.

“Vaughn?” he asks as he leans over, his breath feathering over the hands that are covering my face.

“Lalalalala,” I say as loud as I can, to which he laughs.

His thumbs rub over my pebbled nipples. “I’m going to torture the answer out of you.”

Does he think I’m going to answer him when his type of torture feels so damn good?

He pinches them ever just so, and it’s like a main line to between my thighs. I squirm beneath him and garner a chuckle.

“This is just the start. First, I’ll work you up so you’re just on the edge . . . so you can feel your orgasm just about to hit, and then I’ll stop.” He teases and taunts with his hand. His dick growing harder a seduction in itself. “Then I’ll start all over again.”

“This is ridiculous.” It comes out in a partial moan.

“Then uncover your face and answer me. Seems simple to me, Vaughny,” he croons as his thumbs manipulate my breasts some more so that it hurts so good.

“Fine. Fine. The only orgasms I’ve ever had were by my own hand before you. Okay?” I shout the words out in frustration, but the silence afterward is deafening.

His hands are static on my body, but I can’t see him to gauge his reaction because I refuse to remove my hands from my face.

He surprises me when his lips touch mine through the break in my hands over my mouth. “I don’t know why you’re embarrassed by that fact,” he murmurs against my lips. “It’s sexy knowing you know how to get off.”

I sigh in response and let the lazy kiss relax me a bit.

“A lot of guys get off on the deflowering-virgin thing,” he says when he ends the kiss, both of his hands slowly prying my hands away from my face. “That’s not exactly what I’d consider a good time. Look at me, Vaughn,” he demands when I refuse to; eventually I acquiesce.

“What?”

“To know I’m the first man who’s ever brought you pleasure? Now that? That’s a game changer for me.” He brushes his lips against mine. “No need to be embarrassed.” Another soft kiss with his tongue tracing over my bottom lip. “It’s sexy.” This time his tongue slips between my lips, and it lasts a little longer. “And endearing.” Another kiss. “And I think I want to do it again—right now—just to prove to you that I can . . .” He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth. “And that you can.”

And he does.

It’s slower than the first time. Languid and thorough. We explore each other’s bodies with our mouths and sensations. We push each other to the brink, pull back, and then start the deliciously torturous ascent all over again.

Then later, just when we’re about to fall asleep, Ryker speaks. “Hey.”

“Mmm.”

“I really missed you, Vaughn.”

“Me too.”

I snuggle up against him as he tightens his arms around me and breathe in his scent. Breathe in everything about him, really, with my lips pressed against his chest. And with his heart beating beneath them, I’m overwhelmed with how I’ve let him in. With how much I care about him when I still don’t know everything about him.

But I know I want to know everything about him.

A part of me, the part that’s not in a sex-satisfied coma, stirs to life, and as much as I want to let my lips travel up to his and start this sensual dance all over again, I also want to memorize what this feels like, to be held safely in someone’s arms.

More so, how incredible it felt to have sex with Ryker. To feel him, enjoy him, pleasure him without the ghost of a memory hanging over my head for the first time ever.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Ryker

“You’d be proud of me.”