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“You’re okay?” he demands.
“Um, yes?” I giggle nervously again. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I force myself to meet his gaze straight on, but it takes all my confidence to do so because just moments ago I was coming hard to filthy visuals of him. So it’s a little unsettling to stand before the man himself now, pretending I hadn’t just been doing what I was doing, with orgasm still humming through my body.
“I thought I heard you cry out in pain,” Ryder growls with a frown on that handsome face, and I realize it reallyisconcern that I’m sensing because it’s etched all over his face. “Is it the baby?” he adds. Oh shit. He obviously heard my grunts but didn’t attribute them to sex. He thought they were pregnancy-related grunts of agony!
The realization that Ryder actually cares about me flushes me hotter than the orgasm just did. Yet I’m also engulfed with shame all over again. Oh god, this situation is so off the rails, and I need to leave this house asap. Meanwhile, I try to speak coherently.
“I’m not in pain,” I say in a quiet tone. “Don’t worry, the baby is fine.” But he still stares at me, as if he’s not sure he should believe me.
“Here,” I say with a sunny smile. “Feel.” Then, on impulse, I take his hand and place it on the softness of my belly. There’s no movement yet because my pregnancy is too early for that, but it seems like the right thing to do. Meanwhile, I can feel Ryder’s entire body tense up. “See?” I ask encouragingly. “Nothing wrong here.”
Ryder’s still for a moment, letting his palm rest gently on my burgeoning stomach, and something flickers in that blue gaze. The moment is intensely intimate, but then he nods curtly, and pulls his hand back before clearing his throat.
“Good, I’m glad things are fine. But I have a few meetings to get to now,” he growls. “I’ll see you later, okay?” Then without another word, the big man stalks to the front door and leaves, shutting the slab behind him with a click.
For a few moments, I allow myself to stand in the cool quiet of the hallway, listening to the silence as I wait for my heart to slow down. That was weird, to put things mildly. Ryder goes hot and cold so fast, and it genuinely makes my head spin. On the one hand, he obviously cares about me, but on the other, sometimes he’s as frigid as ice. I just don’t get it.
And what meetings does he have on a Saturday? Maybe he’s a workaholic and never takes any time off, although that hasn’t been the case this past week at least. Ryder goes out to work in the mornings, but then he comes home around dinner time every evening, and we’ve settled into a routine together. He’s silent, yes, and it’s true that I haven’t been able to get any closer to him, apart from those rare moments where he seems to let his guard down for a split second. But we do sort of “hang out” in the evenings. He hovers in the background as I cook, and it’s comfortable. We don’t say much, but he’ll scroll through his phone or sometimes flick through a magazine. Then, we’ll eat dinner together and watch a bit of TV before heading to bed for lights out.
So what was that encounter about? I have no idea and let out another defeated sigh. I really need to get out of Ryder’s hair, sooner rather than later, and I’m not doing myself any favors by putting off the inevitable. With another huge sigh, I retreat to the beautiful back garden and stroll through the arched walkway of peach blossoms, before sitting by the fountain with my phone.
What was the name of that shelter that I was supposed to call? I know I should look for a place to live, but my heart’s not in it. I’m happy here, even if Ryder is distant and getting more inscrutable with each and every day. But I don’t want to overstay my welcome either. As a result, I turn my attention to the homeless shelter again and actually press call this time. No one answers, surprise surprise, so instead, I put together a list of low-income housing that I might be eligible for. Then, there are a couple more calls to make, and by then, it’s late afternoon and the long rays of the afternoon sun are making me sleepy.
With heavy feet, I reenter the cottage and curl up on the pull-out sofa with a book. I should get dinner started, but it’s a little early yet, and drowsiness is beginning to overtake my form.Just a few minutes for a catnap,I promise myself.Then, you’ll get up.
* * *
A noise startlesme awake and I jerk on the sofa bed. Where am I? What time is it? The rays of the afternoon sun are long gone, and instead, the cottage is dark and quiet. Oh shit. I must have overslept and it’s probably midnight now. Crap!
I reach for my phone to check the time, wondering whether Ryder is home yet, when the air catches in my throat and I freeze. There’s a shadow standing in the living room, over by the bookshelves. Then I exhale in relief because that massive form can only be one person: Ryder. Sure enough, I can smell the tangy scent of his cologne, not to mention the musky male aroma that’s all him.
“Where have you been all day?” I whisper, trying not to make it obvious how aroused I am already. “Sorry I overslept.” He doesn’t answer, but instead continues to approach until he’s looming over me by the foot of the pull-out bed. I sit upright and try to see his face, but he’s shrouded by shadows and all I can make out are those powerful shoulders, not to mention the ink black of his hair.
“Ellen,” he rasps. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
I freeze because suddenly, the air has gone from innocent to scorching hot.
“You have?” I breathe, wondering if I’m dreaming. But indeed, this is real life, and Ryder lowers himself onto his knees beside the sofa bed. Suddenly I feel his giant hands gently running up my calves, and my breath quickens as my skin tingles with anticipation.
“I need to see you, sweetheart,” he rasps again, his voice now thick with desire. “I’ve tried to imagine it, but it’s not enough.” His hands are groping my thighs now with passionate caresses, turning my insides to jelly. “Show me,” he growls through clenched teeth.
Instinctively, I know what he wants, and immediately, I obey. With trembling hands, I pull off my shorts and then squirm out of my panties. A low growl of desire sounds from deep inside Ryder’s throat as I spread my legs in the moonlight from the window, serving my pussy up for him to take in. I’m so turned on that I can feel hot juice trickling down from my pussy into my ass crack already. I suppose this is only fair because I saw Ryder in all his glory this morning, so now he gets to see me.
But Ryder wants to more than just look. I hear a zipper, and in the dim light I see him pull the corners of his pants down, revealing his cock where it sticks up out of his boxers, reaching all the way up over his washboard abs. My pussy clenches with lust for his impossibly huge staff, hoping I’ll finally get to feel it deep inside me. I want to ride it so bad. I want to feel that hardness in my sweetest spot, but will it happen?
But Ryder doesn’t touch me. Instead, he reaches into his boxers and unleashes his full length before stroking himself with one hand. The heat of his blue gaze is intense on my pussy and I feel my folds swell even more, moistening further.
I gasp, hoping fervently that he’ll take this moment to push his huge cock deep inside, fucking me like I’ve been fantasizing about. But instead, Ryder strokes himself faster and faster, the tip of his cock only inches from my clenching pussy, driving me crazy with desire. The purple cap literally begins to drip and a hot bead of cum hits the inside of my thigh, trickling down wetly.
I let out a small, desperate moan of need and want. Why is he teasing me like this? Should I beg him to fuck me? I part my lips to ask, but suddenly, Ryder moves. He turns his body slightly to the left and grunts as warm liquid squirts all over my thigh, the ejaculation surprising me with its speed and pressure. The handsome man grunts again and ejaculates hard once more, several warm streams covering my skin even as my pussy pulses, my hole open and throbbing.
For a moment, we’re both utterly still as his dick drips. I pant, my legs wide open as Ryder breathes heavily with release. Is he going to do it now? I’m ready, and wait on tenterhooks, hoping to be fed that huge cock.
But again, I’m disappointed because instead of pushing that shaft into my waiting folds, he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls something out. When he presses it gently to where he came on my thigh, I realize it’s a tissue. The man literally wipes the semen off my thigh with a firm but oddly loving gesture, and then stands up.
“I’m sorry,” he growls. I’m just about to reply, but before I can say get any words out, he turns and leaves, his dark shadow stalking out of the living room and down into the hallway. The bedroom door opens and then closes with a soft click.
For a moment I just lie there, propped up on my elbows, my legs still spread as I blink in the darkness. What the hell just happened? Is Ryder coming back?
