He closes in, trapping me against the wall as his mouth plunders mine.
Devouring.
Demanding.
Taking.
And I give, letting pent up desire and pure need take over.
“Tell me to leave,” he grumbles when he comes up for air.
“Why?” My tongue darts out to lick along his lower lip.
“I’ll only end up hurting you.” Eyes squeezed shut, he rests his forehead against mine, still panting heavily.
I don’t know if he means emotionally or physically, and while that should bother me either way, it doesn’t. What’s happening right now is a breakthrough. He’s feeling. It might be just as much anger as arousal, but it’ssomething. If I stop this now it might send him back inside his head, making things worse, and ruining any shot ofexploring this thing between us. So, I’ll go with it, letting him use me to work through his emotions. Plus, I’m not complaining. I’m horny as hell—have been ever since that first kiss. And even though it’s laced with rage and confusion, no one’s ever kissed me this passionately before. I don’t want it to end.
“I can take it.” My acceptance sends a stilted groan rumbling up his throat just before he crushes his lips to mine.
His kiss is hungry. Bordering on frantic as he tugs at the hem of my shirt, breaking away just long enough to tear it over my head. I work his off, too, sliding my palms over the sleek planes of his chest as we come together again.
My lips feel chafed from the brutality of our kiss, the hint of stubble that scrapes over them as we fight to consume each other. But the fervent desire pumping through my veins, coupled with the pleasant tingle in my cock, keeps me from pulling away. Instead, I chase the pleasure, grinding my hips forward in search of friction.
Running my palms over his firm pecs, I tease his nipples to hardened peaks. The firm ridge of his dick presses against mine, and an embarrassingly wanton moan passes through my lips at the contact.
“It sounds like you want my cock.” His fingers undo the button on my jeans, sliding them over my hips as I fumble to get his off.
A whimper is the only sound I can make as his pants hit the floor, and I get my first good look at him.
Years of racing have made his torso lean and defined, with a slight V of muscle pointing to the heavy cock that bobs between his legs.Yeah, I definitely want that.
A devious chuckle echoes through the room as I lick my lips, but I’m too wound up to care that I’m showing him all my cards. He may test my patience—and my sanity—like no one else, but he also tests my restraint, and right now I have none left.
I stare, enthralled, as he rocks his hips forward just enough that his cock rubs against mine. Another needy cry leaves my throat, and he takes that for the invitation it is, pushing forward so our dicks glide together.
“Fuck, you’re slick.” He looks between us as he frots against me, seemingly entranced by the way my precum makes his shaft glisten. “Are you gonna be tight, too?” He drags his cock back and forth again, forcing me to bite back a groan as each and every nerve along my rigid length seems to ignite with need.
“Only one way to find out.” I don’t recognize the raspy tone in my voice, the blatant challenge in my words. I don’t care, either. All I want is for him to sate my growing need.
The tendons in Ryder’s neck flex as he swallows. Then he coats a finger in my precum, lifts my leg, and nudges the digit inside.
A cry gets trapped in my throat as he fills me, the sudden intrusion tinged with both pleasure and pain, though the discomfort quickly fades as my body remembers what it’s like to have a man inside me.
“So fucking tight.” He pumps back and forth, a little fast given the fact his finger isn’tthatslick, but since it’s just the one it doesn’t feel bad. I have to stop him before he adds another though.
“Couch,” I gasp as I pull his hand away. “Lube.”
Ryder’s dazed expression makes me think he didn’t hear me, so I let out an undignified squeal when he wraps my legs around his waist and carries me to the living room.
“Where?” he grunts as he deposits me on the couch.
“Coffee table.” I tilt my head toward the furniture in question.I live alone, I rarely have company, don’t judge.
Fortunately, he doesn’t, just helps himself and slathers his cock before pressing it against my hole.
If it were anyone other than Ryder I’d be offended by the lack of prep, but moments like these, with him, are so rare I don’t want to ruin his focus. Plus, I have a healthy relationship with my dildo, so it’s unlikely he’ll hurt me in his urgency.
No sooner does that thought cross my mind than my breath gets caught in my lungs as he pushes in. Slow and steady, thank God, but he doesn’t stop until he’s seated to the hilt.
