Chapter 24
Ryker
I watch her closely as she slowly lowers herself to her knees before me, casting me a hesitant, questioning look. She’s waiting, almost asking for permission. I feel a surge of control—of power.
“Go on then,” I say, my voice low and commanding. “Get out your toy and play with it.”
She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the large bulge straining against my pants. The sight of her staring at it, her lips slightly parted, sends a thrill through me. With deliberate slowness, she reaches up and unbuckles my belt. I watch, holding my breath as she pulls down my pants, and my erection springs free, right in front of her face.
Her eyes widen, and I feel a surge of pride as she wraps her small fingers around my length, stroking it with tentative curiosity.
“Good girl,” I murmur, “don’t be shy.”
She leans forward, her lips parting, and as she takes me into her mouth, I let out a low groan of satisfaction. She sucks slowly at first, her tongue teasing the sensitive tip before she takes more of me, inch by inch, into her mouth. I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it aside, and I notice the way her eyes flicker up to my chest, filled with something like admiration.
She’s so good. Fantastic. The way she moves, her mouth working over me, her hands stroking what she can’t fit—it’s driving me insane.
For a moment, all my doubts, all the paranoia about what her true intentions might be, slip away. Right now, there’s only this—her, on her knees before me, giving in to the moment just as much as I am. Maybe she really is just a girl in heat, I think as I watch her, completely absorbed in what she’s doing. Maybe she really does just want to have fun—it certainly looks like it.
Her warm, soft lips wrap around my girth, teasing at the sensitive spot just beneath the head of my cock. A low growl escapes me as she licks along the length, sending shocks of pleasure through my body. When she reaches my balls again, her mouth tenderly exploring while her fingers wrap around my shaft, stroking up and down, I nearly lose it.
She’s good. Too good.
I feel connected to her in a way I didn’t expect, like she’s really giving her best to please me. Her enthusiasm feels genuine, and the way she moves—confident, sensual—doesn’t seem like an act. But doubt keeps lingering at the edges of my mind.
Another wave of paranoia rolls over me. Could she be a professional? I mean, if she’s acting, she’s damn good at it. An expert. The thought gnaws at me for a second, but I force it aside when another exhilarating bolt of pleasure rushes through my body. There’s no room in my head for doubts right now, not when I’m in this state. There’s definitely not enough blood left in my brain to think clearly. And the longer she works on me, the more I’m losing a grip on my thoughts.
I can’t take it anymore. I need her. Now.
Abruptly, I take a step back and grab her, pulling her up from her position and lifting her into my arms with ease. She lets out a surprised gasp, her eyes wide, but there’s no resistance. Just that spark of excitement as I carry her to the sofa. My grip tightens around her, my body burning with the need to claim her, to have her in a way that leaves no room for games or doubts.
The way she feels in my arms, soft yet firm, only fuels the fire inside me. I lay her down on the sofa, my hands already itching to explore every inch of her, and for a brief second, I pause, just looking at her. She’s laid out beneath me, breathless, waiting.
“Spread your legs for me,” I order, a groan of lust fleeing my body when she obliges.