Chapter 19
NINETEEN
DARCY
T he past two weeks I’ve learned that time can pass quickly but also quite slowly at the same time. The days, for example, fly by. I see Ridge in the morning, spend all day having a blast with Lou, and the next thing I know, Ridge is home and it’s time for me to go.
The nights, however, have been rough. Because we aren’t sharing whatever is developing with us with Lou, we’ve had to steal away tiny moments. At best, we get two or three uninterrupted minutes while she’s changing her clothes or distracted in her room. We get in a hug, some kisses, and then we separate.
So those goodbyes in the evenings when I’m going home are rough. We’ve taken to texting pretty constantly until one of us falls asleep. And that person is always me. We spend days sending selfies and pics of random stuff or memes. We spend our evenings sending things a bit more suggestive.
Maybe that’s why they feel so long. Because of all the lust. Lust will do wild things to you. Make you batshit crazy sometimes. That man is messing with my chemicals, making me all goofy.
That’s not a complaint, per se. Despite the fact that it feels like I’ve been edged since the hotel, I consider it worth it. And also kind of hot. There’s a certain thrill in the waiting.
But that all ends tonight. In two hours, Ridge will be home and Lou’s grandparents will be here to pick her up, and I’ve stashed an overnight bag in my trunk. We’re spending our first night together since the hotel. Not having condoms sucked at the time, but I don’t think I would change it. We would have been on the clock with Lou returning from the movie, and I have zero interest in making sex with Ridge quick.
I keep Lou busy cutting shapes to make a collage. Using only basic shapes, she has to create a landscape scene. She seemed very excited about the idea when I presented it, and it’s a low effort way to bring the day to an end, so I was pretty stoked about it too.
Time passes and I only check the clock four times before Lou and I both lift our heads to the familiar click of the door.
“I’m home!” Ridge shouts as he enters.
Lou scrambles to her feet from where we’re sitting on the floor in her room. She has a desk but ultimately decided she wanted us both to spread out on her floor. I hear the two of them talking as I hastily clean up the art supplies and place her nearly finished piece on the table to dry.
Earlier today, I helped Lou pack her bag for her grandparents’ so Ridge didn’t have to rush to do it like he did last time. So I grab that and head to the living room.
“Hi,” he says when he sees me.
“Hello.” My smile widens when we make eye contact, just like it has every day since things shifted between us. And I don’t know what that means exactly, but I like that it’s happening.
There’s a small voice deep down that whispers to me every once in a while that this may be a disaster. She reminds me that summer is flying by, and soon I’ll need to go back to school. The little bitch tells me I’ll be way too busy for a serious relationship, let alone one with a kid involved. And she’s probably right.
So where does that leave this whole thing? Is it a summer fling? Because if so, Lou should never find out. Also, the idea of something so fleeting with a man like Ridge makes me want to cry. I have no evidence, of course, but he strikes me as the type of man who will ruin all other men for me.
“Lou and I got her bag ready earlier today,” I say, presenting the bag.
“We didn’t want you to have to rush and do it when you got home,” Lou adds.
“Wow,” he says. “Thank you so much, ladies.” He leans down and gives Lou a squeeze, then gives me a little wink, which I take to mean I’ll get my squeeze later.
A half hour passes before Alma and George show up to get Lou. While they’re here, I try to play it as cool as possible and say very little that isn’t directly related to Lou. I imagine just like Lou, he doesn’t want them to know anything just yet. Not that I blame him, or mind.
Plus, for some reason, I fear their reaction more than most. Vanessa was their daughter, this is their grandchild, and I would be a person stepping into that sphere. Jesus, I’m getting ahead of myself. My mind is toggling between the two realities, and I can’t make sense of what I’m feeling.
No sooner than the door shuts and Ridge and I are alone is he looking at me with a hunger that wasn’t there two minutes ago.
“Come here,” he says, reaching his hand out toward me.
I step forward and take it, my small hand sliding into his larger one as his other arm wraps around my middle. He tucks me against his chest, inhaling against the shell of my ear. His whole body slumps as he exhales, letting out a long sigh. This is nothing like the quick hugs we’ve stolen in the moments Lou is distracted.
This is an embrace with no end in sight. It’s not to be rushed. There’s no ticking clock, no pending interruptions. There’s just us.
“I’ve wanted to do this all week,” he whispers.
“Me too.” My arms are wrapped around him tightly as I inhale the intoxicating scent that’s only his. It’s clean and warm, like a hint of vanilla mixed with linens and spices.
“If I’m being perfectly honest,” I say, pausing to unbury my head and look at him. “Your scent makes me absolutely feral.”
Ridge’s eyes darken as a different kind of grin emerges. He sweeps his fingertips over my jaw and down to my chin, then tilts it left to expose my throat.
He presses his lips to the pulse point just under my earlobe in that hollow space that immediately sends a wave of goose bumps over my skin.
“So you’re my feral little thing, are you?” he asks, lips still hovering closely. He nips at me with his teeth, causing my grip on his back to tighten.
“Yes.” The word comes out almost like a moan.
“Say it,” he whispers, biting me again.
“I’m your feral thing.”
He groans as his hands move down my body. He cups my ass, hoisting me into the air. I wrap my legs around him, holding tightly around his neck. His face is level with my chest as he backs me up and sets me on the counter.
Ridge buries his face into me as his hands slide up and down my sides. I cup his face, urging him to look at me. When he does, all I can see is need in his eyes.
He captures my mouth, wrapping a hand around the nape of my neck. He deepens the kiss, parting my lips and exploring with his tongue.
I return every heated touch, every kiss. My hands ravage the corded muscles of his back and down his sides. Unable to stop myself, I reach for the hem of his shirt and tug upward. He pulls back from me long enough to raise his arms and let me take it all the way off.
Ridge’s bare chest heaves, his tattooed skin mesmerizing to look at. I could spend all day tracing the details of each piece of artwork he’s adorned with. And I would right now except I have a different agenda.
I run my hand over his chest, down his stomach, and beneath the elastic of his boxer briefs. I cup his cock, stroking my palm over it as it grows harder.
“Oh, honey,” he says, moaning through gritted teeth. His lips graze my earlobe. “My feral honey.” He hums in the back of his throat. “My sticky-sweet wild thing.”
Ridge’s hands are on my ass again, pulling me from the counter. He carries me down the hall and seats me at the edge of his bed. Without missing a beat, I reach for him again, stroking him through the thin silky material. His head rolls back, and he just enjoys it for a moment.
The way he reacts to me, to my touch, is as intoxicating as his scent. I’ve never felt so empowered in an intimate setting before. Most of the time, I’m uncertain if what I’m doing feels good or is what they want. With Tyler, I never felt like I was satisfying him. Which is a real mind fuck, if I’m being honest.
Ridge reaches down, pressing his thumb into my mouth. I suck and his dick twitches in my hand as I work to free him from his clothing. His pants and underwear fall to the ground.
“Put your mouth on me, Darcy,” he says, removing his hand from my face. He steps closer as I take the tip of him between my lips.
I swirl my tongue over his head, tasting the first salty beads of precum. My body hums in response, and suddenly I’m wet and clenching, which only fuels my hunger for him. I suck his cock deep into my mouth, feeling him push at the back of my throat.
His muscles flex in response as a guttural sound escapes him.
“That’s a good girl,” he says between gritted teeth. “You’re doing so well.”
Words I’ve longed to hear and didn’t even know it. I’ve always suspected I needed a little praise in my sex life. It does nothing but spur me on.
I take him deep, gagging a little. He responds, thrusting forward and groaning. More than anything, I want to make him feel good, because it makes me feel good.
Ridge reaches down and grabs me by the throat. It’s a firm grip, but he’s not choking me. If anything, there’s a comforting reassurance somehow.
“Let me feel my cock slide into this pretty throat of yours,” he says, biting down on his words.
And Jeeeeezus, this is by far the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. No way would Tyler or anyone else I’ve been with talk to me like this. And I know there’s no other way I’d want it now that I’ve had it.
I pump him into my mouth several more times. Tears prick the outer corners of my eyes as I gag on him again and again.
All at once, he pulls out and gently pushes me to lie down. I slide back, pulling my legs onto the bed. In one rather smooth motion, Ridge reaches up, tugs on the top edge of my leggings, and brings everything down. He discards it all to the floor, leaving me bare from the waist down.
I pull my shirt off and then my bra as he watches, stroking himself. His eyes roam over me, drinking me in.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, voice low and gritty.
A surge of emotion stirs in my chest. For possibly the first time in my life, I believe the person uttering those words to me. And I believe I’m beautiful.
“Come here,” I whisper, spreading my legs to make room for him to crawl between them.
He grabs a condom from the drawer of his bedside table, then kneels onto the bed, lowering himself to me.
The shaft of his cock presses against my center, nearly taking my breath away. I wrap my arms around him and pull his mouth down to mine. He kisses me tenderly, tongue sweeping against my lips like a feather. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth. I drag my teeth slowly over the sensitive flesh.
He inhales sharply as he moves his hand over my tit, massaging it into his palm. I squirm under his touch and arch into him. He shifts ever so slightly to the side as he runs his hands down my side and over my hip.
Two fingers part me and run down either side of my clit. Ridge hums in the back of his throat as he slides his digits back and forth. The friction causes an overwhelming sensation, and I find myself arching my body toward him, needy for more.
Ridge dips his head lower, sucking my left nipple into his mouth. His hand never stops as he licks and sucks the hard bud in-between nibbling gently. I never knew you could experience so many sensations at once. My nervous system doesn’t know where to concentrate.
“Oh… my… god…” My breaths are shallow and ragged as I grip him tightly, trusting him to take me on this ride. “Ridge, please.” I moan and wiggle against his hand, chasing more of him. “Please, I need you inside me,” I plead with him as his hand moves skillfully against me. “Now.”
“Does my sweet, feral thing need to come?” he asks.
“Yes. God, yes. Please.” I can barely speak. My breath catches on every word.
He lifts himself from me, simultaneously ripping the condom package open with his teeth. Stroking himself, he places the tip inside and rolls it down. He lowers himself back down over me, too slowly for my liking.
The tip of his cock presses against my clit, causing me to squirm. I push my hips toward him, eager for more, and his shaft runs up and down me as I claw his back.
“Ridge, please,” I moan. Unfiltered. Unabashed.
“I like it when you beg,” he says. “You’re so wild. So sweet. But wild things have to be tamed.” He bites down on his last word as he thrusts into me, hard and deep.
My eyes roll back, breath caught in my chest. He pumps into me again and again, filling me. I take it all, move with him, hold on as he takes me higher. It’s unrelenting,
Before I know it, the first rumblings of an orgasm are building deep down. My breaths shorten as I grip him tighter. He slows suddenly, the path to my orgasm completely interrupted. I cry out in protest.
“Not yet, honey,” he says. “Stay with me.”
His movements shift, the pace torturously slow. I feel every inch of him drag out of me and back in. Ridge teases my mouth open with a nibble and presses his tongue to mine. I swirl mine in return, teasing back.
He growls into the shell of my ear. “You ready to ride me?”