Chapter 25
twenty-five
LEXI
Ryder is a god of oral.
My whole body quakes as I ride out my orgasm. I’m slumped on the built-in bench in the shower, and only his arm banded across my belly keeps me from melting onto the floor like an ice cream cone in summer. Watching him eat me out has been an experience. And when he looks up at me with his chin covered in my arousal, I nearly come again.
“Delicious,” he purrs, wiping away my juices with one finger, which he then sucks clean. Leaning forward, he kisses me deeply, offering me a taste of myself. “Sweeter than the sugar cookies we made.”
God. He’s sweeter than the sugar cookies we made.
When my body is ready to cooperate, and I’m no longer a boneless sack of pleasure, I decide it’s my turn to drop to my knees. I haven’t wrapped my mouth around Ryder Hanson’s very impressive cock yet, and I refuse to get through this week without the pleasure. This is my only chance, after all.
“Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he says as he drags his knuckles gently across my cheekbone and down across my lips. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”
Looking up at him, I blink away the spray of the shower. “And you did. So, so good. But I’ve been fantasizing about sucking your dick for days now. Do you really want to spoil my fun?”
Ryder chuckles. His hard cock bobs as his upper body shakes. I can’t resist. My fingers wrap around the velvety length, and I start to explore. Slowly, I map every ridge and vein and note when Ryder hisses or groans with pleasure, or when his hips buck involuntarily. His attention stays on my face. Even when he grabs the shower wall for support, he still keeps his eyes open and watchful.
When I lean in and lick the drop of pre-cum off the head, his lashes flutter, but he stays strong.
I take it as a personal challenge.
Giving him another long lick as I trace the ridges of his crown with the tip of my tongue, I hum happily. He stares at me, enraptured, and I gaze back at him through the fringe of my lashes. “I can’t wait to swallow your cum.”
Ryder chokes on air at my sultry words, but I just grin and take him into my mouth. He’s big and thick, and I know my jaw is going to ache by the time I make him explode. But I’ve always enjoyed a challenge, so I focus on what’s in front of me.
A very large, very hard dick.
“Shit, baby.” Ryder’s uninjured hand tangles in my hair as I take him deep into my mouth and swirl my tongue around him. He doesn’t push me down his cock, doesn’t control my movements; he simply needs the connection. I’m still very much in control of his pleasure.
I’ve never particularly loved giving head. With every other guy I’ve been with, it felt like something I had to do. They’d go down on me and I’d go down on them. I always enjoyed making them feel good but derived no pleasure of my own from the act.
With Ryder, I do.
Despite having just come on his face, new arousal floods my core as I savor Ryder’s reactions. As I enjoy the salty flavor of him. There’s something heady about making this sweet giant of a man fall apart. It makes me feel powerful.
The fingers of one hand dig into the globes of Ryder’s ass while I work the base of his shaft with the other. I stroke and tease him with my wet palm as I lick and suck his length. With every bob of my head, I bring him deeper until I’m fighting my gag reflex.
He hisses when his cock nudges the back of my throat.
Well, damn . I never knew I could take a guy this deep. His raspy praise spurs me on, and I ignore the growing ache in my jaw. I want to make him fall apart.
“Lexi,” Ryder says through panted breaths. “I’m gonna come, baby.”
Looking up at him, I try to grin around his cock but can’t quite manage it. I suck him harder. It’s sweet that he’s warning me. I always appreciate a man who gives me fair warning before he comes, so I can decide if I want to continue working him with my mouth, or if I want to switch to my hands. With Ryder?
I have no intention of pulling away.
“Shit,” he says, his hips bucking slightly as he loses himself to the sensation rippling through his body. “God, Lexi, I’m gonna come.”
In response, I take him all the way to the back of my throat and hum my encouragement. His fingers grip my hair tighter as his body goes rigid and hot cum spurts down the back of my throat. I work to swallow it all, but some dribbles out the corner of my mouth. Ryder watches, entranced, as I lick my lips and wipe his cum from my chin. The intensity of his gaze sends pleasant shivers running up and down my spine.
“That was...” Ryder runs his hand over his face. “That was...I mean, damn, Lexi.”
Strong hands grip me beneath my arms and lift me to my feet. Ryder tugs me toward him, pressing our naked bodies together. He studies my face as his palms glide up my back and over my shoulder until he cups my cheek with one hand. And then he kisses me.
There’s so much in the kiss. I’m not sure I want to dissect it. I’m not sure I’m ready to dissect it. His words echo in my mind as he owns my mouth.
You’re so damned beautiful and ridiculous and a little crazy, and I’m kinda worried no woman will ever live up to you again.
What I don’t tell him is that my fears mirror his own. Who knows if what we have could withstand the real world and our real lives, or if we’re just enjoying the fragile, temporary high offered by our little bubble? Who knows if Ryder would stay this sweet and attentive and affectionate? None of that matters. From this day forward, he will be the man all others have to measure up to. He’ll be the unspoken standard by which all future relationships will be judged.
I’m more than a little worried no one will ever come close.
And when Ryder squirts body wash into his hand and slowly, worshipfully washes every speck of flour and grime off me, I wonder if my plans to keep him at arm’s length are worth it. Because these aren’t the actions of a man hoping to use me for his own gains. These aren’t the actions of a guy who just wants to get laid before he happily walks away without looking back.
Would it be so bad to give this a shot and see where it goes?
Ryder’s touches are so gentle and hypnotic that my mind is able to wander. Unfortunately, it wanders to a memory of my dad’s reaction when Garrett broke up with me.
“Alexis? Why are you crying?”
We hadn’t been close in years, but when Dad had looked at me with concern and actually asked, I let out a little sob and told him the whole story. How Garrett wanted to play hockey. How he’d tried to get close to my dad through me for a chance at an in. How he’d broken up with me when it was clear that was never going to happen.
“I always liked that boy, but he never had what it takes to make it in the NHL.”
And that had been it. He gave me a quick hug before telling me he needed to get to the arena for practice. No I’m so sorry, honey. Or What an asshole. I can’t believe he hurt my little girl like that. I’ll kick his ass. Just an observation that he’d always liked the fake jerk who’d used me for two years and a no-nonsense assessment of his lack of skills.
Ryder isn’t Garrett. I know this. Despite dating me for two years, Garrett never did anything like this. He never rubbed his fingers through my wet hair and washed the long strands. He never peppered kisses across my shoulders and murmured sweet nothings about how beautiful I was. But that means that Ryder would also have the power to hurt me in a way Garrett couldn’t. And if my dad’s reaction was lackluster when Garrett broke up with me, I hate to even imagine how he might react when Ryder does.
Ryder, who he likes. Ryder, who he’s clearly taken under his wing. Hell, he called Ryder to check on him and wish him a Merry Christmas, while my phone hasn’t so much as buzzed with a text message or a stupid Christmas GIF.
Still, do I really want to give my dad any power over who I date? If we give this a try, then break up, who cares what he’d have to say about it? And where Garrett used me to get to my dad, Ryder doesn’t need to. He already has his attention. If he thought charming me would get him a bigger in with my father, I’m sure he’s realized by now that my dad doesn’t care enough about me for that to succeed.
“Tip your head back,” Ryder says softly. His large hand cups the back of my head, supporting me as I lean into the warm spray. He uses his other hand to help rinse the suds away. It’s sweet and incredibly intimate, and I don’t know how to hold him at arm’s length after today.
He woke up before the sun to decorate the cabin. He made me breakfast. He ate me out like it was his favorite pastime, and now he’s washing my hair and body as though I’m precious.
God, I want to be precious to someone.
No. Not to someone. I want to be precious to him .
The realization almost knocks me on my metaphorical ass. This is crazy. We barely know each other. Though we’ve been stranded together for less than a week, it feels like I’ve known him forever. It’s that rare connection that feels deep and ancient after only a short time. It transcends all logic and every single self-preservation instinct that has kept my heart from ruin since things blew up with Garrett.
Maybe I don’t want things to end after we leave. I’m not ready to admit that to Ryder, but a little seedling of hope has pushed its way out of the hard, cracked soil of my heart. If it keeps growing, perhaps I’ll decide that pursuing this thing with him outside of our snow-pass is worth the risk.
Regardless, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be as he massages conditioner through my hair.
“You’re so beautiful, Lexi.” His fingers trail down my spine. The gentle popping of soap suds tickles. “I can’t get enough of you.”
The feeling is mutual. I can’t get enough of him, either.
Once I’m thoroughly clean, it’s my turn to take care of him. The problem is, Ryder is significantly taller than me, so when I have to go up on my tiptoes to massage shampoo into his wavy brown hair, I almost slip. Of course, he catches me. I don’t even care that he’s laughing, because my breasts press against his chest, and I feel every pleasant vibration. I’m lost in the feel of him.
“Here,” he says, brushing a wet strand of hair over my shoulder and onto my back. “Let’s do it this way.” He sits on his perfect ass in the middle of the shower, water spraying down on him. Grinning, I kneel at Ryder’s back and wash his hair.
His head falls back as I massage the shampoo into his hair and scalp. Leaning against my chest, he’s completely at ease. With closed eyes and a peaceful little smile on his face, Ryder lets me take care of him. Once his hair is shampooed and clean, I lather body wash in my hands and run my palms over his skin. They skim over his shoulder and arms before gliding over his pecs and abs. Back to my chest, Ryder lets out a soft moan as I bring my sudsy hands to his hips before swirling them around his cock. Which is hard. Again.
But this isn’t about sex, and he doesn’t try to make it about that. No, Ryder is simply content to lean into my warmth and soak up the gentle touches I’m more than happy to provide. I can’t help it. My mind conjures scenes of us doing this same thing a year from now, two years from now. I imagine what it would be like to spend my years with a man who is both strong and fierce, and overwhelmingly gentle.
It would be a heady thing, I think—to be loved by him.
All too soon, we’re both clean and prune-y. Ryder once again helps me to my feet. But before he turns off the shower heads, he wraps me up in his arms and rests his cheek on the crown of my head.
“I don’t want this to end.” His words are soft and hesitant, and I know how much he risks every time he’s vulnerable like this with me. So, I offer him the only thing I feel able to at this moment in time.
“I don’t, either.” Pressing a kiss over his heart, I sigh and lose myself in his embrace. “I wish we could stay here forever.”
He’s silent for a beat, but his breath hitches. It’s slight, but I hear it. His arms squeeze me tighter before he releases me and slips his fingers through mine. “Come on, OTG. Let’s get you dressed.”