Chapter 13 #2
“Didn’t want to show myself until we knew for sure the room was clear,” he explains.
Despite his words being addressed to the others, his ice-blue eyes don’t waver from my face.
I always thought Ryker had the most beautiful and unnerving eyes of any of the guys—even more than Landon’s and Beckett’s eyes, which are the most unique.
But Ryker’s? They’re a color I would best associate with glacial landscapes and snowy mountains.
Yet they always seem to burn when they stare at me, smoldering with an unencumbered intensity.
Maybe “icy” is the wrong word. Maybe they better resemble the core of a gas flame when it reaches unimaginable levels, when the orange transitions into a cobalt blue that flickers and dances.
“That’s smart,” Dom says, either oblivious or choosing to ignore the staring contest Ryker and I are participating in.
“Here.” Ryker still doesn’t pull his gaze away from me as he reaches into his back pocket and grabs…a handful of chocolates? I must make a face because his lips twitch momentarily before he says, “Trackers.”
“Come to daddy,” Beckett coos, practically lunging for them. I wouldn't be surprised if he started to stroke them the way you would a beloved pet. A part of me wants to be jealous, but it’s so fucking cute to watch him get a boner over technology.
But then I push all thoughts of Beckett to the wayside as Ryker stalks toward me, each step slow and purposeful.
“Um…” Zane enthusiastically waves a hand in the air. “Are you two going to perform the horizontal tango? The Fiddler and the Ho? The Jack and the Cockstalk? The Titandick? The Shawskank Redemption? The—”
Ryker ignores Zane completely and pushes me into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He keeps his back pressed to the wood even as he reaches up and locks it.
“Ryker,” I breathe, feeling weak at the knees and dizzy.
He’s staring at me so intently that my nerves get the best of me.
I find myself babbling with no way to stop.
“Is everyone okay? How’s Landon? Frodo? My uncle?
How mad are they? And by they, I mean Landon? How did you know we were here? How—?”
He continues walking, walking, walking until I’m forced to counter each one of his steps forward with a tiny one backward.
I find my back flush against the bathroom wall, my chest heaving with an alarming combination of arousal and fear.
Not fear of him, per se, but fear of his intensity.
Of the darkness swirling in his blue eyes.
“Landon’s okay,” he rasps out. “Pissed, but he’s beginning to understand that you didn’t have a choice.
Frodo is with him now, curled up on his lap.
I don’t give a fuck about your uncle, but he’s alive.
And I knew you were here because I’ll always know where you are.
Always.” He slams his hands down on either side of my head, bracketing me in.
His chest brushes against mine as he leans in close. “I’ve made a decision, baby.”
“A decision?” I practically whimper, my gaze locking on his expressive mouth. This close, I can see a tiny white scar bisecting his bottom lip. I’ve never noticed it before, but now, I want nothing more than to kiss it. Nibble on it. Soothe the ache away with my tongue.
Ryker’s chest heaves. “I’m done fighting this.
I’m fucking done. I thought… I thought I wouldn’t be able to share.
A part of me doesn’t want to.” Darkness flashes across his face momentarily.
“But then you and three of my brothers were taken by The Divine One. I realized I can’t live without you or them.
We, the six of us, are the only goddamn thing that matters.
The rest of the world can go to hell.” His eyes home in on my lips, which have parted, a shocked moan slipping free.
“They can protect you when I can’t,” he continues on a breathy exhale. “You need them. They need you. And, god help me, I can’t live without any of you.”
“Ryker…” I whisper.
And then he’s moving. Or I’m moving. Or we’re moving. All I know is that we collide, our lips fused together, our hands desperate as they grapple and clutch at skin.
I eagerly reach for the zipper of Ryker’s hoodie, tugging it down. I’m moderately surprised—and aroused—to discover he’s wearing nothing underneath. Dusky skin, riven here and there with old scars, greets my wandering fingers.
His hips thrust against mine as we continue kissing, touching, caressing.
And, of course, Zane has to ruin the moment.
“Can I come in? Plleeeasssee? I promise I’ll be good. I promise—”
With a growl, Ryker rips his lips from mine and stalks toward the shower. He reaches one arm inside and flicks on the water. The sound drowns out Zane’s incessant whining.
Water rivulets cascade down Ryker’s skin, and I suddenly have the irresistible urge to lick every last drop off of him.
Ryker flicks his gaze to mine and must see the desire in my eyes because his steps falter. His eyes smolder, turning dark, then he’s in front of me once more, his hands reaching for the bottom of my dress. I lift my arms to help him remove it. His eyes greedily devour my bare body.
“Not wearing panties or a bra, I see.” The words are a harsh rasp as he reaches for my breast, cupping it. His thumb tenderly brushes over my nipple.
“You could see the outline through my dress,” I pant as he continues his slow, relentless assault on my aching nipple.
“But you were wearing a cloak over it,” he points out.
He grips my other breast and begins to massage it, his thumb and forefinger pulling and tugging at the hard peak.
“I think you wanted us to have easy access to your perfect body, didn’t you?
You wanted to bend over and know we’ll all lose our fucking minds at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. ”
His dirty words, combined with his hands on my breasts, elicit a sharp gasp from me. I tilt my head back, my eyes fluttering shut.
He pinches my nipples. Hard.
“Eyes on me,” he growls out, and I immediately obey, a gasp slipping free. “Good girl.” The words are practically a purr.
Desperate, I reach for him, curling my fingers into his dark hair as I kiss him. His own hands remain pressed between our bodies, playing with my tits, squeezing and caressing and pinching in a way that balances the precarious line between pleasure and pain.
I reach for his jeans, though I can’t quite touch the zipper, not with his body pressed so close to mine. Instead, I attempt to pull his pants down without unzipping them, growling when they get stuck on his toned ass.
His low chuckle vibrates against my lips. “Eager, are we?”
“Very,” I gasp, arching up to nip at his earlobe.
His breathy laughter morphs into a growl.
Ryker pulls away from me and easily unzips his jeans, pushing them down.
My mouth waters as his cock springs free, dark and veiny, with a bulbous tip. While I stare intently at his dick, wondering what it would feel like in my mouth, Ryker makes quick work of removing the rest of his clothes, all but kicking off his shoes and socks and stepping out of his jeans.
He reaches for me, tugging me into his arms, and immediately, I wrap my legs around his waist.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, walking us backward. At first, I have no idea where we’re going, but when a spray of warm water hits my head, I gasp.
Ryker continues moving us until my back is against the wall, my legs still wrapped around his waist, his cock nestled snugly between the juncture of my thighs.
“You don’t know how long I waited for this moment.
How many times I imagined it. I pictured taking you on a bed, on a desk, in a closet, on the floor…
but never a shower. I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me.
” He keeps one arm beneath my ass, supporting my weight, while his other snakes between our bodies to grab at his rock-hard erection.
“Tell me you want this, baby girl. Tell me you want me.”
“I do,” I promise, running my fingers through his wet hair. “I’ve always wanted you.”
“Because once I do this, there’ll be no turning back,” he warns, his eyes darkening with that familiar flash of insanity I’ve seen in all my guys over the years.
“I won’t be able to let you go. Ever. I can share you with my brothers, but no one else.
Any guy who even talks to you will have his head cut off.
Do you understand what you’re agreeing to?
Do you understand the monster you’ll unleash? ”
It’s a threat, a promise, and a warning all rolled into one.
God help me, it only makes me wetter, my pussy throbbing painfully.
“Fuck me, Ryker,” I whisper, placing my lips directly beside his ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
“I don’t have a condom,” he warns, as if the thought only just occurred to him.
“I’m on birth control.” I want nothing more than to feel him bare inside me.
With a guttural growl, Ryker lines his cock up with my entrance and thrusts up into me at the same moment I lower myself. The stretch is instantaneous and almost painful, and I gasp, tossing my head back and pushing my breasts into Ryker’s face.
Almost immediately, his teeth clamp down on one of my aching nipples.
“Fuck!” I cry out. He takes that as permission to move his hips, keeping my bouncing breast in his mouth.
His pace is fast, relentless, damning. I know this is more than just fucking—it’s ownership and possession. He’s weaving himself with my very genetic makeup until it’ll be impossible for me to tell the difference between him and me.
He bites down sharply on my nipple, and I gasp in pain, but then his tongue is there, countering the sting with flicks of pleasure. He twirls his tongue around the aching nub as I struggle to not fall apart into a million intricate pieces.
“Yes, oh god, yes,” I scream, wanting to taste him. I tug at his hair and force his head off my breast. Our lips meet like two stars colliding. Galaxies shake. Black holes form. Entire universes are created and destroyed within seconds.
I can’t hold back the impending orgasm.
With a cry, I bite down on Ryker’s shoulder, sparks shooting through me and darkening my vision. Only his hands around me keep me upright.
Ryker mutters something too low for me to hear, and then he, too, is coming inside me, a raspy growl escaping him.
This moment is beautiful and perfect and ours.
And no one—not The Divine One or POP or anyone else—will take it from us.