Epilogue #2
I put down my wine and wrap my arms around Ryan’s neck. “You know what sounds nice?” I purr. “Thai food.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to try my boeuf bourguignon?” Ryan laughs.
“Never been surer in my life.”
He dips his head, brushing his lips against mine. He kisses me again, a little deeper, his tongue just dipping into mine. “Could we have dessert first?”
Then I’m in his arms, my legs around his slim waist as he carries me to his bedroom—our bedroom, now. Rose petals are scattered across the duvet, the lights already dimmed. Ryan was clearly prepared.
But so am I.
“Wait,” I gasp. “I didn’t give you your present yet.”
Ryan nips at my earlobe. “It can wait.”
“No, it can’t. Put me down and take a seat on the bed.”
Groaning, he does as I say. He leans back on his hands, his legs spread, looking annoyed that I’m making him wait.
I grab the hem of my modest black dress, pulling it up my thigh until there’s a glimpse of red lace.
Ryan’s eyes widen, his pupils widening as he stares at my legs.
I pull the dress up even higher, over my head and off my body.
“Holy…fuck, Pippa,” Ryan mutters.
I do a little spin, showing off my outfit. Black bra and garter belt, woven with red ribbon the exact color of my lipstick. There are little red rosettes on the top of my thigh-high stockings, and the panties are both tiny and crotchless.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ryan.”
Then I drop to my knees in front of him. Ryan goes completely still, like a wild animal who just spotted a hunter. Like he doesn’t dare move right now. I rub my hands up and down his thighs, gazing up at him.
I can feel his eyes moving over me, catching on the way my breasts press against the black lace when I take a breath. I knew he’d love this—he loves me in black, but he goes crazy seeing me in any kind of red.
“Fuck, you’re a pretty picture,” he moans, cupping his hand around my jaw.
He tilts my chin so I’m looking up at him.
There’s a nice pair of trousers and a button-up shirt hanging in the front of his closet, clearly the outfit he intended to wear before cooking got away with him.
Instead, he’s in a short-sleeved T-shirt and gray sweatpants—which, I’ll never tell him, he looks much hotter in.
“I want to show you how good I can be for you.” Reaching into his waistband, I pull out his already-hard cock. I pump it in my hand a few times, relishing the weight of it.
His eyes are hooded as he stares down at me.
With a grin, I drag my tongue over the slit on his head, tasting his salty pre-cum. I love that he’s already weeping for me. I run my tongue up the thick vein on his lower half, relishing in the way it pulses against me.
“Fuck, Pippa,” he gasps. “Your mouth feels unreal.”
When I wrap my lips around his head and swirl my tongue around the tip, he moans, his eyes squeezing shut.
That’s not right—I want him to feel his eyes on me, admiring how I’m on my knees for him.
I fist his base, squeezing a little too hard.
He winces, and I pull away just long enough for me to say, “Watch me, please. I want you to see your present.”
He brushes my hair back behind my ear. “You’re right. I should watch how stunning you look while you swallow my cock.”
Grinning, I wrap my mouth around him again.
I slide lower on him, my hands on his thighs for leverage.
Ryan’s eyes don’t leave mine as I work my way down his cock, his width too much to fit comfortably in my mouth.
It’s hard to work myself past the halfway point, where he seems to fill my mouth entirely.
His cock lies heavy on my tongue, and I force myself to swallow.
“I see you trying, baby.” Ryan runs a thumb along my cheek, tracing the line of his cock. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Pippa. It makes me want to defile you, constantly. It’s all I think about some days.”
Hearing him talk relaxes me. I can feel the muscles in my neck easing up, my tongue flattening so I can take more of him. I push down a little further.
“Just when I think I’ve gotten used to it, you put on this.” He cups my breast through the lace cup of my bra. “I don’t fucking deserve it, but I’m greedy enough to take it anyway.”
Tears burn in the corner of my eyes as I go deeper, taking him down my throat. Ryan cradles my head, not wiping them away, not pushing me down any further. He lets me be in charge of this.
“I like seeing these tears, Pips. I love watching you struggle. You know what my favorite part of fucking you is?”
I can’t answer, can’t even shake my head. I just hum around his cock, gazing up at him. Ryan grins.
“It’s giving you more than you can handle, then watching you take it like a champ.”
He thrusts forward, just the tiniest bit, and I know I can’t take any more of him.
I wrap my hand around his base, moving it in tandem with my mouth as I take him with shallow, wet strokes.
It gets messy fast, my saliva dripping down my fingers and my face wet with tears.
I don’t know why, but it makes my blood rush, being such a mess for him.
All I’ve done is blow him and my panties are already soaked.
Ryan’s breath gets shallower, and his cock pulses against my tongue. He’s getting close, and he grits his teeth in an attempt to hold off.
“I’m going to come,” he grunts. “If you don’t want—If you’d rather—”
I only speed up my strokes. I know exactly what I want, and it’s to swallow every part of him down. He lets out a choked sigh, then spurts down my throat, his fingers still weaving into my hair. “Fuck!” he roars as he comes down, his body tensing then going slack.
Once his cock has softened, I pull away and lay my head against his sweatpants-covered thigh. He smiles down at me, his eyes shining like I’m the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. It makes my chest feel full of bright light.
“That was amazing, Pips.”
I smile. “Should we go drink that wine?”
Suddenly, Ryan pushes off the bed, grabbing my upper arms and yanking me to my feet. A few steps, and he pushes me back against the wall. His hand behind my head cushions my skull, even as the rest of me slams hard into the solid surface. It temporarily knocks the breath out of me.
“You think I want wine?” He kisses me then, hard, deep, and hungry. “I’m not fucking done with my present yet.”
Then his mouth is on mine again, and there are no words in my head. Just a heady, dark, consuming hunger. Whatever happens next, I know Ryan’s going to make me come impossibly hard.
“You have no fucking idea,” he mutters, trailing kisses down one bra strap and across the neckline of my bra. “No idea what you do to me.” Another kiss, just under my bra. “How crazy you make me.”
I thread my fingers into his messy hair as he slides down to his knees in front of me. He drags his fingers around the edges of my thigh-highs as he presses kisses to both of my hips.
“The bed’s right—right there.” I sigh as he guides my leg to drape over his shoulder. “We were just on it.”
“But I wanted it like this.” Ryan drags his nose along the seam of my panties. “On my knees for you.”
Then his tongue is on my pussy, hot and wet and so fucking good.
He laps at me with intense focus, like the calculated poker player that he is.
I bet he has percentages memorized of what kind of tongue movements are most likely to make me come.
He probably has a winning strategy in mind every time he puts his mouth on me.
His tongue swirls around my clit, and rational thought shuts off.
In this position, my weight presses me harder against Ryan’s tongue. It makes everything feel more intense, and it drives me to breathlessness fast. “I—oh god, Ryan, that feels amazing. Please—”
He slides a finger inside me. Crooks it. Hits a spot that almost makes my legs collapse. My vision almost goes black as I grab his shoulders for balance, right before an orgasm rips through me that makes my entire body snap with electric force. Fierce, forceful, sparkling.
How does he manage it? We’ve been together for months now, but he always seems to find a way to bring me to a level I didn’t think was possible. It’s almost terrifying to imagine how far he’ll be able to get me in a few years. I might actually snap my spine from coming too hard.
I blink back to the room and find Ryan’s hands digging into my hips, holding my boneless body up against the wall. He licks his lips as he grins up at me. Under his pants, I can see that he’s already hard again.
“You liked that, baby?” Ryan says.
“God, yes.”
He stands slowly, his body brushing up against mine. I fist his T-shirt, pulling it up so I can touch his muscled stomach. His lips brush lightly against mine, and I can smell my own musky scent.
Ryan cradles my head in his hand, angling my face so my mouth is angled up toward his.
Our lips meet in a slow, sensual glide. I let out a giddy breath, and he slides his tongue against mine.
Heat builds in my chest, and my thighs rub together in anticipation.
Through his sweatpants, the ridge of his cock presses against my lower belly.
He pulls back just far enough to look into my eyes. “Fuck, Pippa. Is there ever going to be a day when I’m not this desperate for you?”
I smile. “God, I hope not.”
He kisses me lightly once, then again, and again. “You’re not tired of me constantly begging you to let me fuck you?”
“Not yet.” I press up on my toes and kiss the tip of his nose. “Why don’t you try it now, just in case?”
His eyes radiate an incandescent heat. “Please, my gorgeous girl, love of my life, will you let me fuck you and make you come?”
I bite my lip, pretending to consider. “I guess that sounds okay,” I tease.
Ryan growls, hauling me up into his arms and tossing me back on the bed.
Staring down at me, he whips his T-shirt over his head, stretching his wiry muscles. His sweatpants are next. Once he’s naked, he gives his hard cock a few lazy pumps as he gazes down at me.
“As much as I love my present, it’s past time for you to take it off.”
His hands land on either side of my hips, his full weight sending a wave along the mattress.
Then his teeth are pinching the top of my stockings and peeling them down.
He drags one down, then another, letting his teeth scrape against my leg a few times.
The combination of his hot breath against my skin with the sight of him, gazing up at me like he wants to devour me, sends liquid heat through my body.
Ryan hooks his fingers into the garter belt before pulling it down my body, forcing it to stretch over my hips.
His eyes darken at the way it cuts into my flesh.
He peels off my bra next, pressing soft, almost reverent kisses against my uncovered breasts.
It’s unexpectedly tender, the way he’s looking at me.
He crawls over top of me and positions his cock at my entrance. With my crotchless panties, there’s nothing in his way.
“You’re so gorgeous, Pips,” he croons. “It’s going to feel so good, coming inside you.”
His blunt head presses into me, and we both moan as he sinks into me in a long, decadent stroke. Even though it’s a stretch, I’m soaked, and he still slides easily until he’s buried to the hilt. I wrap my arms around his neck, gazing up at his lust-drunk face.
“I love you,” I whisper, tilting my chin up to kiss him.
“I love you too,” he murmurs. He pulls out before rocking back into me, setting a slow, leisurely pace. “You were made for me. I’m pretty sure your body was fucking designed for me. Everything I give you, you can take.”
“Yes,” I moan.
Ryan kisses my forehead, my temples, my jaw.
He licks and nips at my neck as his hips roll slowly against mine.
Even though I love the way Ryan goes into Dom mode with me, sometimes I think I love it even more when he’s like this—sweet, reverent, tender.
Ryan’s cock throbs inside me, his slow strokes making me feel every ridge of him.
His hip bone grinds against my clit, relighting the fire he set with his mouth on my clit.
We move together in easy, instinctual harmony, and I let go of every thought in my head, every worry.
I trust Ryan to take care of me, to make me feel good.
All I need to do is hold myself up and do what he asked me to do.
Take it.
My eyelids feel heavy as he starts moving faster, more desperately. It’s like there’s a weighty blanket of satisfaction being draped over my body, dragging me down, down, down into an endless well of pleasure. I won’t be able to last another minute without coming.
Ryan’s close, too. I know he is, the way his breathing is getting rough and his fingers on my clit getting messy and uneven. “Come with me,” I gasp. “I want you with me, always.”
He kisses my neck, then grunts, emptying inside of me. His last thrust pulls me over the edge with him, and we’re sinking together, our bodies tangled and our heartbeats synchronizing as an ocean of bliss pulls us under.
Ryan comes out of it first, and he moves my exhausted body so I’m lying against a pillow. He lies next to me, turned on his side, kissing my hair and tangling his feet with mine.
“You know, my readers would riot if they knew a mega rich poker legend didn’t take me out for Valentine’s Day,” I tease, biting my lip, willing him to take the bait. “They’d expect champagne, rooftop views, at least one Michelin star.”
Ryan smirks, his grin sure and eyes sharp as they land on me. “Your readers don’t know you like I do,” he argues, tripping fingers up my belly. “They don’t know you’d pick sweatpants, bad movies, and me every single time.”
The stupid, traitorous squeeze in my chest tells me he’s right.
I press my face into his neck and breathe him in, warm and a little bit like coffee and woodsmoke. “Yeah, I guess the idea of Mr. Right is overrated,” I muse. “Turns out I’ve been in love with the wrong man all along.”
Ryan huffs a quiet laugh and tilts my chin up, eyes dark as they hold mine. “Haven’t you read the headlines, Pips?” he asks. “I was never the wrong man.”
He runs his nose up the side of my neck, making me shiver.
“Oh, really?” I tease, holding back a smirk as my belly flips.
“Mhmm,” he rumbles against my throat, lacing our fingers together. “We’re endgame, baby.”
~