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But then the thumb he’d been holding against my clit was gone. I sobbed out in frustration until he lashed it with his tongue once more. I gasped, then groaned, arching into his touch. He was a maestro.
Then it was there—his thumb at my entrance. He was going to try it, to get his fist inside me. “Yes,” I cried, my voice more of a sob.
My chest rose and fell, my breathing choppy as my pulse hammered in my veins and anticipation stole through me. Could I take his fist? How deep could he sink inside me?
His mouth on me and his fingers inside me were overwhelming, but when he shifted his hand, pressing it down on my sternum and pushing the blade harder against my tit, I shattered again, splintering into a million pieces.
I shouted as he thrust his thumb in alongside his other fingers and curled them, stretching me from the inside as he worked his entire hand into my cunt. Orgasm after orgasm crashed into me, barely ebbing before renewing again. I didn’t know which way was up. Everything was overwhelming, swirling around me like a vortex while my body was on fire and coming apart at the seams at the same time.
The way he played me, the way he knew exactly what I needed and wanted without me having to tell him, was so very Ry. He was my caretaker, the one who delivered on my heart’s desire before I even knew what it was. Whether it was feeding me or taking care of the Noble Steed or my Mustang, mooring me where I needed to be to find peace, charging my yacht to kill an intruder, or making me come, he was there, orchestrating every move to make sure I was happy.
He'd told me he had feelings for me, that he’d wanted me, but he hadn’t admitted the true depth of those feelings. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loved me, that I was it for him. I was his soulmate, his forever love.
He was mine too.
How could I—the girl who had a fucked-up childhood, who wasn’t exactly a shining beacon of citizenship—be lucky enough to have found all of them? How had fate blessed me with not one, but four, great loves?
Ry shifted, and I needed to do more than just touch his back. I needed to make him feel as good as I did. Energy levels shot, I couldn’t even open my eyes, but warmth radiated off him. He was holding himself up, hovering over me. He opened his zipper and hissed. I wanted that cock. I needed it. I needed to touch him, to make him come.
Reaching out with a shaking hand, he grasped my wrist and guided me to his length. He was long, thick, slick with pre-cum, and hard as granite. “I’m there,” he groaned, his voice shaking as much as my hand.
“Come on me,” I panted. I must have made a sight. My legs were spread, hiked up like chicken wings. His hand was still lodged deep inside me, and I was scrambling to touch him. Gripping his dick, I stroked him in long, languid pulls before twisting my wrist and coating his length in pre-cum. He took the hint and thrust his hips forward, fucking my hand as hard and fast as he needed. I was desperate for his cum, for him to mark me, to possess me.
“Show me, Ry. Show me how you own me.”
He shouted out, his body bowing as he thrust his hips forward and let loose. Streams of cum painted my body from my cunt to my chin, settling in the valley between my boobs and my navel. It pooled in the dip between my collarbones and ran down my throat as I fought to steady my choppy breaths. One pulse after another, he let loose, choking out a cry as he fell forward, catching his weight on the armrest.
He shifted, pressing his face against my tit, resting his bare chest against my stomach. Cum coated my body, but Ry didn’t seem to mind getting it on him. If anything, he was rubbing into me with the way he was lying on me.
Slowly, he removed one finger at a time from my core until I was empty, and I squirmed, hating the feeling. “I might need to do that again,” I murmured with a huff of laughter as I wrapped my legs around his waist and held him to me.
Seven
Zali
“Ivolunteer,” Ryder mumbled against my skin.
“Are you? Volunteering?” I asked quietly. I wiped my cum-soaked hand on my stomach and carded my semi-clean fingers through his hair, the soft-as-silk strands slipping through them. “As in, that wasn’t a one-off?”
He absently ran his thumb over my nipple, the peak hardening under his touch before he shifted, lifting his face and meeting my gaze head-on. Almost defiantly, he tilted his chin and admitted, “I don’t want it to be a one-off. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.”
I tugged a piece of his hair hard enough to sting. “Ow.” He slapped my hand away and pinched my nipple in response. But the joke was on him—I fucking loved when my guys did that. My hips lifted of their own volition, and I bit back a groan.
His eyes darkened, but I wasn’t ready to go again. Not yet, not when I had a chance to talk to him like Tristan had. My voice was breathy when I teased, “Hush, you big baby.” Running my fingers through his hair again, I gentled my touch. “Why did it take you so long? Christ, I’ve been parading around naked for years. You could have done something about it anytime.”
His brows practically hit his hairline, and his mouth hung open in astonishment. “Are you serious?” When I responded with my own brow lift and half shrug, he huffed out a laugh filled with disbelief. “I’m… speechless. You have some awfully traditional beliefs around gender roles for someone who basically says, ‘Fuck you’ to every one of society’s rules. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I’m clearly an idiot,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “I don’t know. You have this ‘I make the decisions around here’ energy, and I didn’t want to fuck with that or risk you saying no. Besides, you’re off limits—you’re my brother’s best friend, my employee, and my friend.”
“You were friends with Flynn, and you work for Ezra. How are they different?” he asked, confusion and a sliver of vulnerability clouding his eyes. He kept it hidden well, barely a shaft of light under a door that Ry kept firmly locked, but I could see it. “Is that the difference—that you love them?”
His words broke my heart, and his uncertainty crushed me. I needed to fix this—Ry deserved to know that he wasn’t just a convenient addition. I wanted him the same way I wanted my other men.
Permanently.
“I do love them. I love Tristan as well,” I admitted. “But, Ry, I also love you.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but I pressed my finger against his lips. He knew my story with Ezra. He’d seen our relationship change from one where we bickered and I taunted Ezra to one which admittedly wasn’t all that different except that we admitted we cared for each other and now regularly fucked like bunnies. He’d watched it morph with his own eyes. He’d been there for all the key events.
