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“Maybe we should go home and let people use the bathroom,” I say, halfheartedly.
“Not until you scream my name and I make you remember who you belong to. After that, no asshole is going to confuse that you’re taken and well fucked.”
He continues working his way down my neck and toward my chest. His hot, wet mouth and teeth leave a delicious trail of marks on me as he goes.
“I didn’t tell him he could sit.”
I feel it’s important to clarify that I never wanted the guy to stay. I never would have entertained his advances. Ryker needs to know that.
“The next time a man tries to sit next to you… just ask him if he values his life.”
A pang of desire fills my panties with more wet arousal until I know they’re dripping wet for him now.
Besides tonight, I’ve only seen Ryker lose his cool on the ice. But seeing him take out an ice hockey player in past games already tells me that although Ryker is even-keeled most of the time, there’s a sharp edge to him if someone causes undue harm and messes with something that’s his. And that sharp edge… cuts.
“I’ll be sure to tell them that my husband doesn’t play nice with others,” I say.
“That’s a good girl.” His deep timber voice is low and sexy.
I watch as Ryker hooks a finger into the top of my black long sleeve underlayer and pulls it down over my chest to get access to as much skin as possible. The shirt gives enough to offer him a view of the top of my breast. I’m happy that I wore my best push up bra today even though I planned on being under layers of clothing all day.
He groans as his mouth finds the swell of my breast but it’s not enough for him… or for me. I need more.
More friction between my thighs.
More of his hot mouth.
He reaches for the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms, letting him pull the wicking material up over my head.
He discards the shirt on the counter and then hooks a finger into my bra, yanking it down until my nipple pops free. He launches forward, taking my hard nub into his mouth—swirling his tongue over and over until I whimper in agony at the pulsating of my clit.
“I need your cock,” I sob. “Please, Ryker.”
His finger releases my bra but his mouth remains as his hands reach for my jeans.
With expert precision, he gets my jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. In one fluid motion tug, he yanks my pants down to my boots.
He doesn’t even bother to look between us—he knows my panties are soaked and my body is ready for him. Instead, he keeps his mouth on my nipple, ringing out pleasure from between my lips.
He pulls back for a second, the coolness of the air around us chilling my wet nipple. He reaches for his wallet and takes out a condom, pushing his wallet back into his jeans pocket.
His mouth returns to driving me crazy as my head falls back—my eyes fluttering closed to the sensation.
I hear his pants unzip and the foil of the condom ripping open.
I reach down to feel him and find his cock covered in latex. He hisses as I grip ahold of him, feeling his power in my hand.
“How does that feel?” he asks.
“So good,” I pant, my heartbeat almost through my chest at how close I am to feeling him stretch me open again.
“How bad do you want it?”
Another person attempts to open the door with a loud thud but this time I’m too entranced to care.
“Get lost, we’re busy in here.”
“But I gotta shit,” the voice says, muffled behind the door.
