Chapter Twenty-Six
Savannah
The air between us is charged, thick with tension neither of us acknowledges but both of us feel. My pulse races, and my heart pounds a rhythm against my ribs when I glance up at Rylan. His jaw is tight, his body impossibly still, like he’s trying to hold himself together. I know he’s fighting it—whatever this is between us. But I’m tired of fighting.
I want him.
And I’m done pretending otherwise.
Shifting slightly, I reposition my arm so it rests against his thigh. It’s a small movement, subtle enough that he might not notice right away. But when I let my fingers trail lightly along the fabric of his jeans, his breath hitches. My lips curve into a small, satisfied smile.
He notices.
I let my hand drift higher, until I brush against the hard ridge pressing against the seam of his jeans. His body jerks at the contact, and he sucks in a sharp breath, his head tipping back against the couch. Still, he doesn’t stop me.
Encouraged, I let my fingers explore further, tracing the outline of his arousal through the thick denim. His breath stutters, his chest rises and falls faster now.
“Savannah.” His voice strained. “What are you doing?”
“Getting what I want,” I reply softly, my tone unwavering.
Before he can respond, I unbutton his jeans and tug the zipper down with deliberate slowness. His eyes are on me now, dark and intense, the glow of the TV casting flickering shadows across his face.
I slide my hand into his boxers to wrap my fingers around him. His length twitches at my touch. He’s hot and hard, and when I give him a slow, teasing stroke, a low groan escapes his lips.
“Mo stóirín,” he groans, his accent thicker, rougher. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Then show me,” I whisper, sliding the blanket off of us as I shift to my knees on the floor. His pupils dilate, his gaze locked on mine, and the tension in his body is palpable.
I reach for the waistband of his boxers and jeans to pull them down. He lifts his hips just enough to help me, and then he’s bare before me. My breath catches at the sight of him, his arousal thick and ready, and I feel a rush of heat flood my cheeks.
Grasping my hand firmly around the base of his cock, I lean in and let my tongue slide up the length of him. His reaction is immediate—a guttural groan that vibrates through him, his hands fist in the blanket as he fights to stay in control.
But I’m not done yet.
I take him into my mouth, starting slow, teasing him with shallow strokes. His breathing grows heavier, his fingers twitching as if he’s fighting the urge to grab hold of me. Encouraged by his response, I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I move, tasting him, savoring the way his body responds to my touch.
“Savannah,” he growls. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I pull back just enough to look up at him and meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine, and I know I’m exactly where I want to be.
“Good,” I murmur before taking him back into my mouth, determined to push him to the edge—and maybe take myself over with him.
His groans grow louder as I take him deeper, my pace quickening. He thrusts gently at first, but when I don’t pull away, he begins to move more deliberately, his hips rocking forward in time with my strokes. The motion sends a rush of heat through me, and I hum softly around him. The vibration earns me a sharp growl from his throat.
I reach up to cup his balls in my hand and massage them gently. The combination drives him wild, his breathing ragged as his hands twitch in the blanket again, clearly fighting the urge to touch me.
“Savannah,” he warns. “You’re playing with fire.”
I look up at him, keeping my pace steady, and let the corner of my mouth curl into a wicked smile. He groans at the sight, and his control slips further, his hips jerking forward.
“That’s it,” he growls, his hand finally tangling in my hair as his need overtakes him. But just as I think he’s going to take control, he pulls me back. The sudden loss of him leaves me gasping for breath.
Before I can protest, he leans forward and grips my arms as he pulls me to my feet. In one swift motion, he tears my shirt over my head, only to toss it to the side. His hands cup my breasts, and his thumbs brush over my nipples before pinching them lightly, which sends a jolt of pleasure straight through me.
I moan at the sensation and brace my hands on his shoulders. His lips curl into a devilish grin. “You’re so fucking perfect.” He lifts me effortlessly and settles me onto the couch.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my sleep shorts, and with one sharp tug, he rips them away, leaving me bare beneath him. He doesn’t hesitate, lining himself up and driving into me in one smooth, powerful stroke. The sudden fullness steals my breath. My nails dig into his shoulders as he sets a relentless pace, each thrust driving me closer to the edge.
“Look at your pussy taking all of me, such a good fucking girl.” The gravel in his voice is laden with lust. “So wet and tight for me, mo stóirín. Your pussy was made for me.”
“Please, Rylan,” I whimper, my voice breathless. “I need more. Harder.”
He responds immediately, grabbing my breast firmly and tweaking my nipple hard. It sends a jolt of delicious pain through me. The sharp mix of pleasure and pain is intoxicating, and realization ripples through me: I’ll take anything he gives me.
My orgasm builds inside me, my pussy fluttering around his cock. “I’m going to cum, Sir,” I cry out, unable to hold back.
“That’s right, baby,” he groans, his pace never faltering. “Come all over this cock like the good little slut I know you are. Milk my cock dry.”
His hand slides down to pinch and roll my clit, and I shatter. The orgasm crashes over me, a tidal wave of pleasure that steals my breath and leaves me trembling. My juices explode out of me, and his eyes darken with hunger.
“Fuck, baby, look at you squirting for me,” he purrs, his thrusts continuing hard and fast. The relentless pace tips him over the edge, and with a guttural moan, he stills, his warmth spilling into me as he finds his release.
The sound of our ragged breathing fills the room, and I collapse against him, my body spent and sated. For a moment, neither of us speaks, the weight of what just happened settling over us like a blanket. But as his arms wrap around me and pull me close, I know one thing for sure—this man is going to ruin me.
And I’m going to let him.