Page 269 of Power Play

His Spanish wrapped around me differently from anything he said in English. It was his first language stripped of every defense, intimate enough that even when I couldn’t translate each word, I felt the truth of it.

The slow grind intensified as Ryan’s control frayed. His thrusts became harder, deeper, and more urgent. The bedframe creaked beneath us in time with his hips.

He braced himself on one arm and tangled his other hand in my hair, tipping my head back until he could devour my mouth. The kiss tasted like desperation and everything neither of us had managed to say after the fight.

His pace turned punishing, driven by more than lust. Every hard thrust carried his anger, his fear of losing me, and the terrifying relief of waking to find me still beside him.

Ryan struck a place inside me that sent white-hot pleasure through my body with every slam of his hips. My cries broke against his mouth while my nails dug into the ink covering his shoulders.

His face tightened above me, and his breath came in ragged bursts. He dropped his forehead against mine, eyes closed as though looking at me would expose more than he could bear to show.

“No me dejes aquí sin ti,” he choked out.

Don’t leave me here without you.

He drove into me again, brutal and deep enough to blur my vision.

“No me hagas perderte, mi amor, mi vida… Tú lo eres todo para mí.”

Don’t make me lose you, my love, my life. You are everything to me.

I couldn’t translate the confession, but something in the broken shape of his voice tore me apart.

My orgasm crashed through me. My back lifted from the mattress as my body clenched around him, a raw cry ripping from my throat while Ryan continued driving into me.

The feel of me gripping his cock shattered whatever control he had left. A guttural sound tore out of him, half roar and half something far more vulnerable, as he thrust one final time and held himself deep inside me.

His release came hot and sudden, pulsing into me while his body shook above mine. Ryan stayed buried as deep as he could, one hand gripping my hip while the other remained tangled in my hair.

He collapsed over me when the last shudder passed, keeping enough of his weight on his arms that I could breathe. His face disappeared into the curve of my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. His heart hammered against my chest, matching the frantic rhythm of mine.

We stayed joined while dawn brightened around us and the world beyond his apartment began to wake. Cars passed outside, and a distant siren cut briefly through the quiet.

Inside his bedroom, our breathing gradually slowed until it found the same rhythm. Sweat cooled between us while his body remained warm and heavy over mine.

Ryan eventually softened and slipped from me. He rolled onto his side, pulled me with him, and tucked my back against his chest. His arms locked around my waist as though I might disappear if he loosened them.

The Spanish confessions remained between us, untranslated but understood enough to leave my chest aching. Ryan pressed a soft kiss against the crown of my head, and I let myself believe we could survive the things waiting for us outside that room.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

Ryan lay with one arm beneath my head and the other draped across my waist, his fingers moving lazily against my skin while the room settled around us. Rain tapped more quietly against the windows now, and beneath the exhaustion humming through my body lived the awareness that this weekend had become something I hadn’t known I needed.

There were no hotel clocks, bus schedules, or hours spent counting backward from when he had to leave. I had Ryan, warm and solid beside me, without the road already reaching for him.

I turned my face against his chest. His fingers stopped moving.

“You awake?”

“Barely.”

“Good.”

“That sounded threatening.”

His chest shifted beneath my cheek when he laughed. “You’re dramatic after sex.”

“You’re unbearable after sex.”