Chapter 20 Delaney #2
“You sure about this, Delaney?” Ryker runs his hands through my hair, and I lock my eyes on his as I nod. “Open your mouth, Lane.”
His commanding voice washes over me. So sexy.
I press my thighs together, looking for relief as need and excitement pool deep in my belly.
“Now wrap your hand around me.” I tentatively do as I’m told, not surprised when my fingers can’t actually wrap entirely around him. This man . . . my soon-to-be husband is massive.
Everywhere.
I lick my lips, already heady with anticipation.
“So fucking pretty on your knees, baby.” His hand tenderly runs over my hair. “Put me in your mouth, Lane.”
Ignoring the nerves pulsing within me, I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock and drag it over the metal bar and balls. “Fuck, Delaney. Wrap your lips around me. Take your time.”
I smile around his dick as my tongue drags over the metal and down the soft skin until I gag, and I swear I think he likes it. My eyes water, still locked on Ryker’s as I do it again, my own excitement growing with my confidence.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs on a delicious groan through heavy-lidded eyes as his hold on my hair tightens. “Deeper, baby. Take your time. I want to fuck your face almost as much as I want to fuck your pretty pussy again.”
Oh fuck.
Yes, please.
Slowly, I manage to work my lips down his shaft, hollowing my cheeks and twisting my hand. Sucking and squeezing as I try to work my way to the base of his cock.
I must be doing something right because Ryker’s head falls back as his eyes close, and sweet baby Jesus, the sounds coming from his throat. They’re everything. Every. Thing.
I choke as I get closer to the base and cough, mortified. “Oh God, sorry.”
Ryker’s eyes fly open and lock back on me. “Fuck that, Lane. Don’t apologize. Don’t stop. Don’t ever fucking stop.”
Well then, I guess choking isn’t a bad thing.
I smile around his thick cock. Who knew?
I pump him in my hand once, twice, giving myself a moment to breathe. Then I take him back in my mouth and swallow him down my throat, silently cheering when a string of curses fly from his lips. “Fuck, Lane. Jesus. You’re taking me so good.”
“Tell me, Ryker. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you like. Tell me how to make you come,” I demand around his dick, desperate to give him this.
And the way his eyes flame with need tells me I’m doing pretty damn well.
“You’re doing it, Bambi. Fuck.” Every husky word has me teetering on the edge the way I hope he is. “Suck my cock. Lick the bars. Twist your hands. And don’t fucking stop until you’re swallowing my cum, baby.”
His hand drops to my chin, lifting it the tiniest bit. “You okay if I get a little rough, wife?”
Am I?
His eyes, those navy-blue eyes, tell me I am. That he’d never go too far. With the wetness between my legs pushing me on, I smile again around his dick and wrap a hand around his ass. “Yes, please, husband.”
Okay, maybe just this once I said it because I knew what that word would do to him.
And it does.
I’m rewarded when fingers dig into my jaw as I swallow him down my throat and let him fuck my face. Hard and fast, and I fucking love it. I lick and suck and squeeze and gag as I work him deeper—faster—harder. Feral for this man. Desperate for him to come. To know that I did that to him. For him.
And the sounds . . . Jesus. The sounds falling from Ryker’s mouth.
They’re everything.
Every time the word wife leaves his lips, my panties get more wet.
My legs press tighter with each good girl, and I swear to God at this rate, I might come before he does.
I close my eyes and take him as far as I can, feeling Ryker tense, then roar.
My eyes open, locking with his at the first taste of salty ropes of hot cum shooting down my throat.
I swallow, tighten my fist, and hollow my cheeks as I work him in sync with my hand.
Sucking him harder. Faster. Loving his sounds and his words and his hands on my face.
Loving—
No . . . I push that thought away and lick and kiss and smile until Ryker pulls my face up, tugging me to my feet. He presses his lips to mine, pushing his tongue inside my mouth and groaning as my hands dive into his hair.
“Ryker,” I plead, my legs clenching, unsure of what I’m even begging for.
He spins me around so my back is crushed to his chest, one hand still on my throat as his lips skim my ear. “You need me to take the edge off before we go upstairs, Bambi?”
I turn my head and nip at his lips. “I need you to fuck me, pretty boy.”
Ryker slides a knee between my thighs, forcing my dress up, and I suck in a breath, shaking and needy as I turn my head and watch him grab a condom from his wallet.
“Please . . .” I pout as he rolls the condom over his already-hard cock. Holy shit. Is that normal?
Fuck that. Who cares. At least if I’m getting married, it’s to a gorgeous sex god who can go all night. Yay me.
He presses a hand between my shoulder blades, forcing my chest against the table and dropping to his knees. “Hurry.”
My body shakes with anticipation as Ryker slides his tongue up along the inside of my thighs and grazes his teeth over my ass before slapping it hard.
The stinging sensation warms my deliciously overheated body, and I whimper, grabbing the edge of the table as he leans over me, sliding my thong to the side and lines his cock up against my core.
When he presses in this time, it’s nothing like the last. There’s no slow or sweet. This is all need and want. He slams inside my body, and I scream.
Right there. Already on the precipice.
“Not yet, baby. I’m gonna fuck you for hours.”
I slide my head to the side, resting a cheek against the table and lock eyes with him, a challenge held in mine. “Then you better fuck me fast. Your bride needs sleep.”
“As you wish.”