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It’s over way too soon and when it’s done, I rub my lips together.
“You’re mine, Tillie. You always have been and now, sweetheart, I’m claiming you,” he responds.
His words make my heart slam fast against my chest. “Claiming me?”
“Yeah, Buttons. I’m totally fucking claiming you,” he practically growls.
Tillie
I wake up, feeling warmer than usual. My apartment is mostly a basement and stays fairly cool. I open my eyes and remember that I went to sleep in Ryder's arms, and they seemingly stayed wrapped around me all night.
I close my eyes, savoring this feeling for a moment. Me wrapped in Ryder’s arms.
All night.
It feels good—so good that I’m sure most of my defenses against Ryder Monroe are now completely gone. Last night was something I didn't expect, but practically everything I could have asked for. Even now with my head on his chest, my ear pressed against his beating heart, it feels like I’m in a dream. It’s also a dream that I harbored for years. It should definitely be said that reality is like a million times better than fantasy.
I pull slightly away—just enough so that I can look up at him. His chiseled jaw, the angles of his face, the long sweeping eyelashes, all of it is perfection. My eyes close and my pussy clenches as his words from last night come back at me in his graveled voice. It was a voice full of desire and need. It was directed at me, and I know the sound of it, along with what he said, will stay with me for the rest of my life.
“You’re mine, Tillie. You always have been and now, sweetheart, I’m claiming you.”
Even now, his words make my body quiver in reaction. I thought after he said that, it meant not only would we spend last night like we did the night before, but more. Apparently, it didn’t. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel slighted. He held me, kissed me and he cuddled me all evening. He fixed me a snack, despite the fact I told him I wasn’t hungry. When I didn’t eat, he made it his job to feed me. In essence, he took care of me. It’s the first time I’ve ever had anyone do that other than my parents. With Keith, if I was sick, he opted to leave me alone until I was better. If I was upset, distance again was his method of treatment. Ryder didn’t give me distance. His arms stayed wrapped around me all night. His front stayed to my back, and his breath caressed my neck as his lips brushed my ear and he whispered goodnight.
I truly felt…cared for.
My heart beats heavily in my chest as I contemplate my next move. My gaze drops down to the jersey I’m wearing—the same one Ryder demanded he put on me because he had lost a lot of years of having that gift. The gift, apparently, was me in his shirt and him holding me in bed. That felt sweet. It felt good and most of all, it felt really huge. That’s why I’m lying in bed, deciding what to do next. My mind is a jumbled mess. All I truly know is that I want more of him. I need more of how he treated me last night. I just plain need him.
I'm twenty-five. That's old enough to be my own woman and to lay the past to rest. I’m also brave enough to admit that outside of my parents, the only person I’ve ever needed has been Ryder. That means something and the surety of that pushes me to my decision.
I turn carefully. I try my best not to rouse him. If he wakes, I might lose my nerve. It’s easier while he’s sleeping. I stretch up, just barely having enough wiggle room to initiate a kiss. I press my mouth against his in a light caress, running my tongue against his lips, while depositing light kisses. His soft lips against mine are intoxicating and I want more.
I can feel the exact moment that Ryder wakes up. My heart—already beating hard—goes crazy. His dark eyes look into mine. They’re heated and the look on his face sends a surge of electricity that strikes right between my legs and makes my entire body tremble with hunger.
Hunger for Ryder.
He groans, sucking my tongue into his mouth. I gasp with pleasure as our breath mingles, our tongues dancing, tangling, and warring for control as the kiss deepens. He wraps his arm around me, using it to pull my body over him. I settle on his body, whimpering as his hard cock presses against my tummy. Our kiss turns more intense and full of a desire so intense that I’m panting for air, refusing to let go of one second of pleasure his kiss is giving me. I can't get enough. The sounds of his mouth on mine—wet and hot—filling the silence of the room.
“Fuck, Tillie,” Ryder groans right before he dives back in, his tongue plundering my mouth, claiming me to the point that I know I'll never be free.
I don't want to be.
When we finally break apart as I drag air into my lungs. They burn with the energy it takes to breathe. “Ryder…”
“Tillie,” he says, his voice hoarse, full of desire. “We need to stop before it goes too far, and I can’t.”
“I don't want to stop,” I tell him with a stark honesty that is terrifying but feels right.
“We have a lot we need to talk about,” he cautions.
He’s right. He didn’t force me into conversation last night. In fact, Ryder was strangely subdued after finding out I still had his jersey. He said he was claiming me, but really didn’t make a move to do so—at least physically. Yet, in every other way imaginable, he did it to the point that I found myself remembering something that over the years I had forgotten.
I only feel alive when Ryder is nearby.
“I don’t think we do, not really. But, if that’s what you want, we can do it after. All I know is that you told me you were claiming me last night—”
“I am,” he interrupts, the sureness in his voice unmistakable. Ryder’s not questioning himself at all.He wants me.
“And I want that. I’m older now, Ryder. I don’t need hearts and flowers from a man. Sometimes it’s just about sex and I’ve wanted that with you for a long time.”
