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“If you could only see yourself right now. Ass covered in pink, round cheeks bouncing with each thrust.”
His voice has me mesmerized. I want to think of some smart-ass comment, something to earn another spanking, but I can’t think, let alone speak. I give into the moment, bucking against him to meet his demands, feeling his balls slap against me and his fingertips dig into my waist. The sounds of our skin slapping together turns me on in a way I’ve never felt before. I’m in another dimension, an alternate reality where I’m so sure of myself. I’m someone who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants, to allow herself to enjoy everything because Goddamnit, she deserves it.
There was a small part of me that thought since we had been building this up, tiptoeing around each other for months and making each other crazy, that the sex might be anti-climactic. Like I made this whole situation out to be more than it is.
That part of me is an idiot.
I’m riding that fine line, ready to burst at the seams and I want to take him with me. I want him as wild and reckless as I feel. I flex my hips to slow the pace, arch my back, and peer over my shoulder, his eyes float up to meet mine and I soak it all in. His parted lips, hooded eyes, that broad chest flexing with every move.
“Ryan,” I whimper, voice wavering. “Fuck. You’re gonna make me come.”
His thrusts falter for a moment, barely, but he does. He adjusts his grip on my hips and slams me down on him, hard, hitting a spot inside me that sends shock waves through my entire core.
He leans forward, planting an arm on the bed next to my head, and wraps his other around me, reaching between my legs to add pressure to my clit.“I want you to remember this moment,” he whispers into my ear as he works my clit in slow,deliberate circles, matching the pace of his thrusts. “Think of it when we’re at work. Think of how hard you make me and know that I’m thinking of this moment, right now.”
“Jesus, Ryan, keep talking.” His gravelly voice has me unhinged, racing toward my orgasm.
He pulls me closer, his voice low and gritty. “Do you know how hard it is seeing you at work in your tight little pants? Not being able to pull you into the nearest room and bend you over? To touch you in every way I want to,exactlywhen I want to.” He rises up and in my next breath, he delivers three slaps in quick succession to my backside. And he slapshard. So hard I let out a scream, an actual scream, and the first wave of my orgasm hits.
Rockets shoot off around me as light bursts dance behind my eyes. I relish every spasm working its way through my core, feeling the delicious weakness in every muscle once it passes.
“Fuck,” he grunts, and his pace quickens. He thrusts into me with fast strokes, riding out every ounce of my orgasm before he halts, and I feel him pulsing inside me.
He releases his grip from my hips and pulls out while I collapse on my chest into the bedding. He lays next to me, arm immediately crossing over my back and his lips press against my shoulder. We lay entwined, panting, his hands trembling as he rubs hypnotic circles over my back before rolling me to my side to face him.
“Well?” he asks with a twinkle in his dark eyes.
“Well …”
“Did you see stars?”
I laugh, a hand coming up to still my spinning head. “You could say that again. Holy shit.” We lie in silence, his warm body covering mine as the sweat dries and my mind races. If someone had asked me before tonight if I’ve had amazing sex, I would have said yes. But even my best experiences, the ones that leaveyou weak in the knees and wanting more are no match for what Ryan just showed me. I already want more.
I prop myself up on my elbows, my non-existent bun falling and hair cascading over my shoulders as I admire the man in my bed. Ryan is already half asleep, flat on his back with his arms still around me, always touching somehow. I crawl over his body to kiss him, and his hands come up to grip the back of my head.
“You’re insatiable,” he mutters against my kiss as his hands trail down my back to cup my stinging ass.
“It’s your fault,” I tease against his lips. “It shouldn’t surprise you that that was the most ridiculous sex I’ve ever had.” Probably the most amazing sex I ever will have too. Insecurity knocks on the door and the words are out before I can stop myself. “Is it always like that for you?”
His lips briefly stop their assault on my neck before his eyes pop open and meet mine. Tenderness crosses his face as he smooths my wild hair back, knuckle grazing down my cheek as he tells me with the utmost sincerity in his voice, “See that’s the thing, firecracker. It’s hard to remember what life was like before I met you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lainey
The morning sun creeping through the bedroom window warms my face, waking me from the best night of sleep I’ve ever had. My groggy eyes drink in the man sleeping in my bed, the one who spent the majority of the night with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I take a second to soak in the magnificent sight of him—dark lashes resting over tanned cheeks, hair wild and disheveled, sexy day-old stubble gracing his jawline. He’s lying on his stomach, muscular arms tucked under the pillow, that large back rising and falling with shallow breaths.
I force myself out of bed and into the shower, lazily soaping my body and reminiscing about last night. Each plum-colored nibble on my skin, each reddened mark left behind by his lips and hands draws another smile on my face. But honestly, that wasn’t even the best part of the night - the level of surprise that came when Ryan switched off the bedside lamp and tucked his long body behind me was what I had hoped for but didn’t expect. He didn’t say anything – didn’t need to, for me to know that he was in unfamiliar territory.
This thing between us … I don’t know where it will lead, and it might not be something we can label yet because we are both experiencing something new, but this thing between us is blooming.
We stayed up most of the night talking under the covers. Ryan shared stories of his sister and the pranks they would play on each other. He opened up about his grandparents, how his grandma was an amazing cook, and the last time someone cooked a homemade meal for him was her, several months before she passed. I made a silent vow to cook him dinner at some point this weekend.
He told me of his most embarrassing story, of nerves getting the best of him during a spelling bee, causing him to misspell pepperoni, and then effectively peeing on himself. His sister, like any good-natured sibling, reminds him of that whenever he’s giving her a hard time.
I told him about my little sister, and that I hope she will move to Chicago and live with me once she graduates from college. I told him about my entire family, how my aunts, uncles, and cousins are like a second set of parents and siblings, and how we find excuses to get together almost weekly.
He now knows that I’m twenty-eight years old and never learned to swim. He knows that the town I grew up in is so small, that it doesn’t even have a stop light, just a solitary yellow blinking light down the main street. He knows that I don’t mind spiders but can’t even see a picture of a snake in a children’s book without cringing.
