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“This is us having sex.”
“There’s a difference?”
“For anyone else? Maybe not.”
His face hardened, but his body responded when I moved over him again.
I didn’t push further. Charm from fifteen months ago would have demanded reassurance until the question destroyed the moment. The woman fighting for him now knew when words would only send him farther behind the wall.
I kissed him and let my body make the argument instead.
Ryan gave me control until I became too slow for his patience. His hands guided my hips into a harder rhythm, lifting me and pulling me down while he drove upward beneath me. The room filled with our uneven breathing and the growing protest of the mattress.
“You wanted unfiltered?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You wanted the version of me that doesn’t hold back?”
“Yes.”
One hand moved from my hip, sliding beneath my shirt until his thumb found my nipple.
I gasped and lost my rhythm.
“Then fuck me the way you promised you could.”
The challenge reached every reckless part of me.
I sat upright and moved harder, riding him without hiding how much I wanted him. Ryan watched my body with the open possession I had once feared other people recognizing. There was no one here to witness it now, but he had carried the same hunger downstairs, touching and kissing me where our friends could see.
He wanted me privately. He had claimed me publicly. Whatever explanation he gave himself, both mattered.
Pleasure gathered low and tight inside me. Ryan recognized the change before I spoke. His hand slipped between us, finding exactly what I needed with the merciless accuracy of memory.
“Ryan.”
“Come for me.”
I shook my head, overwhelmed by the speed of it.
His fingers tightened against my hip. “Mírame.”
I obeyed.
There he was beneath the anger—the man who knew every expression I made and refused to let me disappear from the moment when feeling became too intense.
“Don’t hide,” he said. “Not when you’re fucking me.”
The words broke whatever restraint I had left.
My climax moved through me hard enough to steal my voice. Ryan held me above him, keeping my eyes on his as my body tightened around him. The pleasure blurred the room, but he remained clear beneath me: his clenched jaw, the hunger in his face, and the emotion he refused to name burning behind his eyes.
He rolled us before I fully recovered.
My back met the mattress, and Ryan settled between my thighs. He stayed inside me, driving deeper as he took control of the rhythm I no longer had the strength to maintain.
I wrapped my legs around him.
