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This was surreal.
Had he really uttered them? Or had it been my imagination as we sat under the stars, steam enveloping us, warm water drifting over us? Fantasy churned in the air. Surely I could have created the words in my mind.
“Don’t say anything yet,” he said. “Come to bed with me. I owe you an orgasm. Or three or four.”
It hadn’t been fantasy.
He led me out of the tub, helped me put on my robe, and then escorted me back into the house, Ricky frolicking at our heels.
I’m in love with you.
And then, more of his words haunted my mind.
You’re mine to protect.
No. I wasn’t his. I would never belong to him or anyone else.
My independence screamed at me to tell him that, to say I wasn’t going anywhere with him, and I was certainly not his possession.
But the desire within me overruled my independence, and I continued following him to the bedroom where he laid me gently on his bed.
I’m in love with you.
I was in love with him too. I’d known it for a while, and I wanted to say the words—wanted to so much—but something held me back.
All this time, I’d never dreamed he could actually feel the same way I did. Never dreamed any man could feel that way about me, never dreamed I’d want any man to.
Ryan Steel was not any man.
He peeled the damp robe from my body, my skin still glistening with moisture. He stood above me, his dark hair wet and slicked back, his eyes smoldering, his pink lips so plump and full. His body… Those broad shoulders, perfect chest and abs, coppery nipples, and black hair smattered over his flesh.
And his cock. He was already hard again. It sprang from his black curls as beautiful as it always did. I took a moment to look at it, to truly examine it. It was a shade darker than his tan skin, and two purple veins marbled around and under the shaft. The tip of his head glistened with a drop of moisture.
I wanted to lick it off, but at the moment, I didn’t move. Even though part of me screamed to do what I wanted, to exert my independence, that other part of me, that part I’d kept hidden for so long, yearned to submit.
He leaned over me and brushed his lips against mine. Just a soft, sweet kiss. Then he moved over to my cheek, my neck, sending shivers throughout every cell in my body. He trailed his full lips over my chest, the tops of my breasts, until finally he reached a nipple.
My areolas were already wrinkled and taut, my nipples so hard they strained forward, searching for fingers, lips, a stubbled cheek—anything to brush against them and give them the attention they ached for.
Ryan didn’t disappoint. He flicked his tongue over one while thumbing the other. I moaned, straining, lifting my hips off the bed, aching for more of his kisses, his tongue, his touch. His everything.
“So beautiful,” he murmured against my skin.
I groaned when he tugged on my nipple with his teeth. I was wet for him, could already smell the earthy musk permeating his bedroom. I inhaled, savoring the aroma, letting it slide into the pores in my skin, making me warm all over.
Ryan continued with my nipple, alternating tugs and sucks with soothing licks while he twisted the other one between his fingers. I squirmed beneath him, undulating my hips, searching for his cock to fill me.
“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his breath warm against my breast.
“Mmm…you.”
“You’ve got me.” He glided his hand from my breast down my belly to my vulva and then slid his fingers through my labia. “So wet. God.” He pushed a finger into me while he thumbed my clit.
“Oh!” I nearly flew off the bed. The climax was swift and voracious. I moved my hips in tandem with the contractions inside my walls as they illuminated my body with fire and ice simultaneously.
“That’s it, my love. Come for me.”
My love.
