Chapter 68 Done Playing It Safe
Done Playing It Safe
Tessa
By the time we reached the top of the stairs, my pulse was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with exertion.
Finally.
I didn't hesitate. I turned toward my bedroom, and Ryder followed as amusement flickered across his face.
On a laugh, he asked, "What happened to fire safety first?"
"Oh, shut up," I teased, hating and loving that he was throwing my own words back at me, something I'd said downstairs as he'd grabbed the candle. "Besides," I said, "I'm done playing it safe."
He snorted. "That'll be the day."
"Hah!" I gave him my boldest smile. "That'll be the night, meaning right now."
I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me until the bedroom opened at my back. When it swung shut behind us, the soft click sounded too soft for how hard my heart was pounding. Ryder's fingers tightened in mine before he released me to set the candle aside.
When he turned back, his gaze locked on mine like I was the only thing in the room. "Well," he said quietly, "now that we're done being careful—"
I kissed him.
Hard.
The sound he made against my mouth went straight through me, heating my skin and sending new sensations straight to my core. His hands came up and gripped my waist, pulling me tight against him like his restraint was finally cracking.
I could totally relate.
I fisted my hands in his damp shirt, dragging him closer even though there was nowhere closer to go.
He backed me up until the bed hit the backs of my knees. The mattress dipped as he followed, bracing himself over me, close enough that our lips were nearly touching.
For a second, we froze there – him hovering, me anticipating.
And then he smiled. "I just want it on record that you started this."
"Me?" I laughed. "You're the one who broke down the door."
"And you're the one who dragged me upstairs."
"Dragged you?" I sputtered. "You didn't exactly resist."
"Yeah, and you wanna know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to." And then he kissed me, slow and deep, while I melted against him. When his mouth left mine, I chased it, breathless and needy. He murmured softly against my jaw, then trailed kisses down my throat, unhurried and maddening.
My fingers dug into his shoulders as I arched, silently begging him not to stop. My breath hitched. "Ryder?"
"Yeah?"
"I missed you."
He pulled back with a devastating smile. "Good."
"What? No. That's not good. It's terrible."
"Yeah, tell me about it." And then he lowered his head and kissed me again, as if to prove that I wasn't the only one who'd been wanting.
The bed creaked as we shifted – our legs tangling and bodies pressing closer. His thigh slid between mine, and I gave a little gasp as the friction sent heat spiraling low in my stomach.
His mouth pulled back from mine just long enough to say, "You do know you're killing me."
I smiled. "Good."
With a breathless laugh, he kissed me again, deeper and harder, until my hips started moving. After that, everything blurred into the sensation of heat, hands, and lips as we both ran out of patience.
Frantically, I went for his shirt, my fingers slipping on the damp fabric as I tugged it free, breaking the kiss only long enough to drag it over his head and fling it somewhere off to the side.
Soon, there were no more clothes – no lacy bra, no black briefs, no little black panties, because they were all scattered somewhere on the floor.
Maybe I should've felt self-conscious. My bed was unmade, the sheets were tangled, and here I was, right in the middle of it, naked with Ryder Vaughn – a guy whose name I'd known long before I'd ever met him.
Between us, the urgency shifted again, not fading, just focusing. His weight settled between my thighs, solid and warm. And this time, he didn't rush it. Instead, his hands skimmed down my sides, smooth and unhurried, like he was learning my curves instead of chasing the moment.
His mouth followed, slow and sweet, kissing along my jaw, my throat, and then lower. Each kiss felt achingly deliberate, like he was mapping my body to see what I liked.
And me? I liked everything.
When his lips found my nipple, I gave a little groan. The nipple was cold, and his mouth was all heat, just like the rest of him. On a happy sigh, I asked, "How can you be so warm?"
He responded by reaching between us and finding that special spot between my thighs. He gave my center a long, tempting stroke that had me arching against him, hungry for more. With his lips pressed to my skin, he asked, "How can you be so wet?"
I didn't answer, because both of us knew. My body had been ready long before our feet had ever hit the stairs.
His lips returned to my nipple, giving it a lingering kiss as he worked more magic with his fingers.
On a groan, I whispered, "I want you."
His voice held a smile as he replied, "I know."
I didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "Hey…don't you want me, too?"
"Hell, yeah," he said. "But first, I want you to want me more." And then, he gave me another maddening stroke that nearly sent me over the edge. When my hips arched, he said, "See?"
And I did, soon finding words nearly impossible as he stroked and cajoled sounds and sensations out of me that I hadn't known existed. Before too long, my hips were rising faster in a silent plea for more than his fingers.
But then, just like that, I was falling over the edge, not caring how I sounded or looked – or that everything else had fallen away. There was no broken door, no Evan Carver, or any other concern to claim my thoughts.
There was only Ryder, anchoring me in the moment and touching me like he'd known me from the start.
I was practically panting now. "Ryder…"
His reply was a low whisper. "Yeah?"
With trembling fingers, I reached between us and guided him to my opening. "This." And then, I arched my hips, driving him into me as he met me halfway – and then, more than halfway, as he joined us fully, stealing my breath all at once.
His lips were on mine, kissing me again, as my hips moved and my fingers fisted in his hair. Whatever chill I'd carried with me was long gone, replaced by searing heat and the exquisite sensation of a deep, aching fullness I had never known before.
In the flickering candlelight, we moved in a perfect rhythm that felt inevitable, like this was exactly how it was supposed to be.
As the rhythm tightened, the pressure built until it felt impossible to hold on to anything else. My breath hitched, then shattered as a glorious rush swept through me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
I cried out against his mouth as the pressure crested all at once, the release nearly overwhelming as I trembled beneath him.
He didn't slow. If anything, my own release undid whatever control he had left. His grip tightened as he followed me over the edge. And for a brief, breathless moment, we were shuddering together, lost to everything but this.
Then he stilled. His forehead dropped to mine as we caught our breath, still holding on. His voice was tender as he asked, "You know what?"
I was almost too breathless to reply. "What?"
"I should break in more often."
I giggled against him. "Hah! After that, I'll keep the door open."
"Don't you dare," he teased.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not the only guy out there. But you?" He wrapped me tighter in his arms. "You're all mine."