Our mouths brush, soft and warm.
Then he deepens it.
The kiss turns hotter, hungrier. The air shifts.
I straddle his hips without thinking. He groans low in his throat, hands gripping my thighs, sliding under the sheets.
"You’re going to ruin me," he mutters, voice thick.
"Already did," I whisper back.
He flips us easily, pressing me into the mattress, settling his weight over me like he belongs there.
“Nikki,” Ryder breathes against my neck. “You were meant to be here.”
My pulse hammers.
His hands move over my sides, learning my curves like he has all the time in the world.
“Say it again,” I whisper.
He pulls back to look at me, his dark eyes so honest it hurts.
“You were meant to be here, sweetheart.”
He lowers his head and kisses me. Deep and slow. A kiss that feels like a future.
His hands slide down my body, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing circles that make me gasp.
“Ryder…”
“I know,” he murmurs against my lips. “I feel it too.”
He doesn’t rush. Just keeps stroking me with that devastating calm, like he knows exactly how to unravel me.
My hips start to move on their own, chasing every pass of his fingers, every flick of pleasure that shoots straight through my core.
Then he slides one thick finger inside me.
Deep, slow, maddening.
I arch with a sharp cry.
His thumb never leaves my clit.
He adds a second finger, stretching me open, filling me. The pressure builds fast, deep and tight, like heat coiling low in my belly with no release in sight.
“Come for me, Nikki,” he whispers, voice rough and full of need.
And I do.
I shatter around him, a cry tearing from my throat as pleasure washes over me in wave after wave of pure, unadulterated bliss.
He kisses me through it, swallowing my cries, his hands holding me steady as I ride out the storm.
When I finally come back down, he’s still there, his body caging mine, his eyes dark with want.
I reach for him, my hand wrapping around his cock, hot and hard and ready for me.
