Page 75 of Direct Action

Ryan kissed my hip, fell through the space I made, and took his time, driving my need to a place that I didn’t know existed. A place where only Ryan and his mouth and his tongue lived and his sole purpose of living was to pleasure me. He did not eat me out, he didn’t devour me—he did something altogether different.

My hands slid into his hair, my hips surged up, and Ryan continued to worship between my legs until my climax rolled through me. He stayed between my legs, gently lapping until my thighs stopped shaking and my orgasm ebbed.

His journey up was no less slow, and when he finally pressed a kiss to my jaw, I sighed.

“I want you looking at me, Chloe.”

It was dark, only the streetlights illuminated the room, but still I righted my head on the pillow.

“The whole time, baby,” he said, and I felt the head of his dick nudge my entrance.

“Okay,” I breathed.

He slowly gave me more, only to pull out and start the whole process over again. Inch by inch, he fed me his cock. Inch by inch, I felt something shift inside of me.

“Wrap me up tight.”

I hooked my legs around his hips and slid my hands up his arms until they found purchase on his shoulders.

He lowered his head until his nose nuzzled my temple. “Can you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah you can. There’s no missing this kind of beauty.”

My heart lurched.

My eyelids fluttered closed. I desperately wanted to lock away the moment, keep it for always, tattoo it on my soul, brand it on my flesh.

Ryan lifted away.

My eyes opened.

His thrusts came faster but still measured.

The buildup was slow, a gentle hum, a yearning, an ache, a craving that wouldn’t be denied.

“Ryan,” I moaned, and dug my heels into his lower back.

“Not yet.”

I rolled my hips. Ryan ignored my wordless demand. He and he alone was in control of my pleasure. And that only inflamed my desire.

“Please,” I begged.

“Keep your legs tight. Palms on the headboard.”

Without delay, my palms hit the wood planks above my head.

Ryan planted his elbows on the mattress, caught my face in his big palms, and rolled his hips.

I fought the need to close my eyes and bask in the bliss that hip roll caused.

“Don’t stop looking at me.”

I was never, ever going to stop looking at him.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous,” he grunted. “I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for this moment right here.”