“As much as I love seeing you in that dress, I think I’ll like it even better on my bedroom floor,” he says with a wicked grin.
If there’s one good thing about an afternoon game, it’s that we’re out of there at a reasonable time. Meaning, I had enough time to go home and change out of my pantsuit and into a fitted midi dress with a slit that hits mid-thigh for our dinner date. And also, in the hope that it would finally get Ryan to give up on this whole ‘going slow’ thing. Sure, I’ve stayed over the last few nights since, what I’ve dubbed, Jersey Night, but he hasn’t letus get carried away past good old fashioned hand jobs like we’re teenagers exploring the body of the opposite sex for the first time. Don’t think I haven’t tried to push things further either. I tried to wake him the other morning with a blow job, but he caught on too quickly and stopped me before I could even slide my way down his body. At least I’m still getting orgasms out of this arrangement, but I wish it wasmore.
Ryan plays with the hem of my dress, fingers tracing the slit up to my exposed upper thigh. “This has been teasing me all night,” he growls.
“Good.”
He arches a brow. “Good? Were you trying to drive me crazy?”
“Yes,” I breathe out as his hand slips under the fabric, brushing against my hip bone and where the waistband of my underwear would be… if I were wearing any.
“Fuck, Isa,” he groans. “You’ve been sitting at the table across from me all night without any panties?” Fingers dance along my inner thigh, drawing closer and closer to where I’m desperate for them. I squirm under him with a whimper I’m not at all proud of. “What was that?” he asks, halting his hand.
“Yes,” I gasp out. “Ryan, touch me.Please.”
He tugs at the dress, pulling it up and over my head before tossing it across the room. His body falls over me, bringing his mouth next to my ear. “Only because you asked so nicely,” he says, echoing his words from our first night together.
I’m set alight the moment his finger begins to draw tight circles over my clit. My back arches off the bed, my body trying to get closer to him. His mouth drops to my nipple, sucking and nipping. It’s not long before I’m writhing beneath him, panting for more.
“Ryan, please.”
“Please what?” he asks, his voice a rumble against my chest.
“Fuck me,” I gasp out.
His movements freeze, and I whine at the loss of the building pressure, lifting his head so he can meet my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Fuck taking things slow,” I say, trying to catch my breath as my brain attempts to form coherent thoughts. “I’ve wanted this for weeks.” I reach my hand up, threading it into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging him close to me. “Now, please. I’m begging you to fuck me.”
A groan slips through his lips as his eyes fall closed before they pop back open and the bright blue of his eyes is overtaken by his pupils, turning them a dark navy. “Fuck. I love hearing you beg.” That’s the only warning I get before he dives back into things with a ferocity that wasn’t there moments ago. He slides a finger inside me, and I gasp at the surprise. “Need you to give me one before I fuck you,” he growls. “Think you can do that?” he asks as he slides a second finger in.
I nod repeatedly, my brain unable to form words while he’s overwhelming my senses so fully. Heat washes over my body as the pressure builds and builds, climbing higher.
“I’m gonna—” I barely get the words out before I detonate like a bomb. My body shakes as waves of pleasure wash over me. When I come back down to earth, everything sounds muffled, like my head is under water. “Jesus, fuck. How are you so good at that?” I ask, breathless. “Actually, scratch that. I don’t want to know.”
He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss into my forehead before leaning to dig around in his nightstand. Returning with a little square foil packet he holds up between his index and middle finger, he gives me a serious look. “Still sure? You can change your mind.”
I gently take the foiled packet from his fingers and tear it open. “I’m absolutely positive that if you don’t fuck me tonight, I might combust.”
He barks out a laugh at me throwing his own words back at him. He rips his shirt off over his head and makes quick work to remove his jeans and boxer briefs. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” I shake my head as I work the condom down his hard length ever so slowly. He twitches in my hand before his hand shoots out to halt my torturously slow movements. “Okay, if you keep doing that, we won’t be fucking,” he grits out, trying to hold tight to the leash that keeps him from finishing in my hand. He slots himself between my legs, his tip nudging at my entrance. My eyes are fixated on the place where our bodies connect. His finger finds my chin, tilting my face up to meet his eyes. “Eyes on me, firecracker.” I shiver in anticipation. He thrusts in only an inch at first, testing. I gasp at the slight pinch of pain as I adjust to his size, and he halts. “Are you okay? I can stop” he asks, concern etched on his face.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I pant out.
He laughs. “As you wish.” He nudges his way in another inch. Then two. The movements are so slow it’s teasing and torturous. I can’t take it anymore. Looping a leg around his waist, I pull him closer, thrusting him inside until he bottoms out with a groan. I moan at the feeling of him filling me so completely. His forehead falls to my shoulder, trembling with the restraint at holding himself still while I adjust to him.
“Ryan,move.”
He’s gentle as he pulls out and thrusts back in.
“Oh my god,” I moan.
“I know,” he grits out.
“More, Ry. Please,” I beg.
He picks up speed, pounding into me with a desperation that tells me he’s been needing this as much as I have. Gripping oneof my ankles, he slings a leg up and over his shoulder, practically folding me in half. This position forces him deeper until he’s hitting that spot. The spot I can’t ever hit myself.
“Oh,fuck,” I gasp out.
