Chapter 3
Robyn
I forgot how good sex was.
How could I have forgotten?
How?
I’m going to come any second, and he’s barely started. I’m mortified, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. His tongue does this swirling, flicking thing against my clit while his finger pumps into me in a slow, deep rhythm. It’s too much, but not enough.
My hand is still buried in his hair, tugging hard. I can’t seem to loosen my grip. “I can’t… I… More… I—”
I need to stop talking. I sound terrible.
I groan deeply, arching my back, thrusting against his face. I can’t stop doing that either. I planned on humping him, but not like this.
Holy crap!
He hums against me, and the vibration rolls through me like a small earthquake. He curls his finger on the next suckle, and that’s it…I’m done.
My orgasm rushes through me and all at once.
My mouth drops open, and my eyes squeeze shut.
My back bows right off the mattress this time.
My thighs clamp around his head. My toes curl against the sheet.
I make a noise I didn’t know I was capable of making, something between a cry and a sob, and my whole body goes tight, then loose, then tight again as he keeps working me through it.
I pulse around his finger in wave after wave.
When it finally loosens its hold on me, I push out a heavy breath, my eyes open wide as the last of the waves rush over me.
Finally, I flop back against the pillow like I’ve been unplugged.
My chest is heaving. Sweat cools at my hairline.
My legs are shaking on his shoulders in these small, uncontrollable tremors.
Ridge lifts his head. His mouth is wet. His eyes are not quite green but very beautiful, like the rest of him. His hair is a tangled mess from my fingers. Even that is hot.
“Good golly,” I breathe out.
He gives me that rare half-smile, the one that lasts about two seconds. “You good?”
“I’m…I…ahhhh…” I swallow. I nod a few times like an idiot because my mouth won’t form words.
He slides his finger free and eases my legs off his shoulders and lowers them carefully to the mattress.
He licks his lips as he gets off the bed.
I have to prop myself up on my elbows to watch him, because there is no way I’m missing this show.
Please take your clothes off.
Please.
He stands at the side of the mattress and reaches for his belt.
Thank you, lord!
My eyes drop. The buckle clinks. The zip comes down. He pushes his jeans and boxers off together, shoving them down his thighs in one rough motion.
Oh.
Oh my.
His cock springs free, and it is… It is absolutely ginormous. Thick and long and hard, curving up toward his stomach. There’s a bead of moisture at the tip. My mouth falls open. I’m not even trying to be subtle anymore.
I make a squeaking noise.
“Hmm?” he hums in question.
“That’s not going to fit.”
His mouth twitches. “It’ll fit.”
I frown. “I don’t know. I told you that I was rusty. I might even be a virgin again; it’s been so long.”
He laughs. “That’s not a thing. You’ll be fine, Robyn. I promise.”
Hearing him say my name like that, all low and rough, while he’s standing there completely naked, is almost enough to start me off again. I’m actually a bit afraid of him. I’m also, apparently, the horniest I’ve been in about a decade because my clit has woken back up.
I want to press my thighs together to stop what’s happening down there.
He bends to dig something from his jeans pocket and pulls out a strip of condoms, tossing them on the bed.
Then he climbs back onto the bed, braces himself above me on one elbow, and lowers his mouth to mine.
I taste myself on him, tangy and a little musky, and it should be weird, but it’s not.
He kisses me slowly, until I forget to be nervous, until my hands come up and wrap around his neck, until I’m arching up, trying to feel more of his bare skin against mine.
His hand starts to wander.
He palms my breast through my top, squeezing gently, and I make a soft noise into his mouth.
His thumb finds my nipple through the cup of my bra and rubs in slow circles.
Then his hand slides down, over my stomach, and between my legs, and I moan when his fingers find me slick and swollen and still sensitive from before.
I want him again. Still. I just plain want him.
I can’t believe how quickly I’m hot and heavy again. I just came. I should need a minute. I should need ten. But his fingers are circling my clit, and I’m already lifting my hips, chasing the feel of him, and every nerve in my body is humming like it’s been turned right back on.
Ridge sits up, straddling my thighs. He grips the hem of my top and pulls it up and off me in one smooth motion. He throws the shirt behind him somewhere. Then he looks at me in my plain beige bra, and I feel heat flood my face.
I reach back to unclip it myself, because if he’s going to see these, I’d rather get it over with. The clasp gives, and I slide the straps down my arms, and drop the bra over the side of the bed.
I instantly cover my chest with my arm. My breasts are big. I can’t help that. They are also not as perky as they once were. To be frank, they’re a bit on the droopy side. And since I wasn’t planning this, I also didn’t exactly prepare down there either, but that ship has sailed.
I’m owning this.
I’m going to enjoy every minute. I pull my shoulders back and thrust out the girls. My nipples seem to reach for him. What am I saying? Everything reaches for him.
He looks down at me, and his jaw goes tight in a way that makes my stomach flip.
“You’re beautiful.” Then he bends down and runs his tongue over one of my nipples, and I gasp so hard I nearly choke. “You have great tits.” He closes his mouth over the same nipple and sucks, and I swear I see a flash of light behind my eyelids.
I make this noise and arch into him.
He moves to the other breast. He’s gentle and then not gentle, licking and sucking and grazing with his teeth just enough to make me writhe. His big hand cups the first one, weighing it, rolling the nipple between his thumb and finger.
When he glances up at me, all I see is desire…and it’s all aimed at me.
I stop trying to suck in my stomach.
His hand drifts back between my legs, and his fingers slide through me, and I’m so wet he makes a low, rough sound in his throat that sounds like approval.
He works me again with his thumb, his fingers pumping slow and deep inside me, and I’m rocking against his hand, and moaning with absolutely no shame.
“You sound so good,” he murmurs against my breast. “Keep making those noises for me.”
Oh, I’m going to.
He lifts himself off me and reaches for the condoms. He tears one with his teeth. Then I watch him roll it down his length.
He hooks his hands behind my knees and lifts my legs, then presses them gently apart. I’m spread wide for him, and I should feel awkward, but he’s looking at me like I’m Easter and Christmas all rolled into one.
He lines himself up. The blunt head of him presses against my entrance, and I instinctively tense.
“Relax,” he murmurs.
He drags the head of his cock up through my folds, nudging my clit, over and over, slow and maddening. I’m rocking against him within seconds, panting, my hands fisting in the sheets on either side of me.
It doesn’t take long before his big cock is coated in my juices, and I’m panting with need.
He drops the head back to my entrance and pushes in.
I cry out. Not from pain, though it’s a stretch. I cry out because he’s so thick and so hot and so impossibly there, and my body is trying to figure out how to take him.
“Breathe,” he tells me.
I start to pull in a breath when he thrusts inside me in one hard move that has me throwing out a punchy wail.
He stops, pausing a beat. My legs are still up, pushed back toward my shoulders by his hands behind my knees. I’ve never felt so open or so full in all my life.
For a second, neither of us breathes. Then he lets out a rough, shuddering sound.
“Fuck,” he grits out. “You feel incredible. So damned tight.”
Before I can say anything, he uses the tip of his thumb to rub on my clit in slow, easy circles.
“Keep breathing.”
I groan. Then he moves.
The first pull back punches a hard yell right out of me. The first thrust in is slow but deep, and he finds an angle that makes stars, moons, and perhaps even the sun pop behind my closed eyes.
I make these weird noises.
He hooks my legs up higher, over his forearms, and he starts working me in steady, deep strokes that have me babbling.
The headboard is knocking against the wall in time with his thrusts, and I’d be worried about the neighbors if I could form a coherent thought. My breasts are bouncing with every drive of his hips, and I watch his eyes drop to them and darken, and that’s when he speeds up.
He is gorgeous.
A wall of muscle and ink. The lines of his abs flex with every thrust, and a fine sheen of sweat forms at the hollow of his throat.
His mouth is slightly open. His eyes are locked on mine like he can’t look away.
The tattoo that runs from his pecs down across his ribs is a dark, intricate pattern I want to trace with my tongue.
He looks like one of my book heroes. Like an actual, literal fantasy. And he’s inside me.
“Taking every inch. Such a good girl,” he rasps.
Oh.
Oh.
That shouldn’t do what it does to me. I’m a thirty-eight-year-old medical director, thank you very much. And yet I feel myself clench around him so hard he groans, and I feel that hot, tight coil start to gather low in my stomach.
“Say it again,” I whisper.
His eyes flash. “Good,” he grunts, “girl.”
I shatter.
The second orgasm comes over me like a wave I never saw coming.
I arch under him, my mouth open in a silent cry; my whole body shakes as I pulse around him in tight, greedy contractions.
My nails rake down his forearms. The headboard hits the wall twice as quick, and twice as hard, but I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t—
“That’s it,” he pants above me. “God, that’s it, Robyn—”
He pumps into me four more times, rough and fast, and then he drives deep and stays there in short punches.
His whole body goes tight. A low, rough groan rips out of him, his head dropping back, his throat working.
I watch him come, and it is the single most spectacular sight I have ever witnessed in all my years.
The tendons in his neck stand out. His mouth parts on a ragged breath.
His eyes squeeze shut, and his lashes look impossibly long against his cheeks.
He looks wrecked.
He looks beautiful.
When he finally stills, he lowers himself onto his forearms. Both of us are breathing hard. My whole body is still humming, still throbbing around him in little leftover pulses. He’s heavy and hot and exactly where he should be.
“Sheesh,” I say between breaths. “That was…not what I was expecting.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh. “Me neither.”
He eases out of me carefully, and I hiss at the drag, oversensitive everywhere. He rolls onto his side, takes care of the condom with a quick, practiced motion, and ties it off. He drops it into the small bin between my side table and my bed.
I watch him reach for the second condom.
He catches my eye and lifts one brow. “Ready for round two?”
Round say what now?
Two?
“Already?” I ask. My voice is hoarse. “You can go again?”
“Yes. We don’t have to if—”
“I want to. I do.” There’s a desperate edge to my voice.
He grins at me, and I swear I’m already halfway to another orgasm.
Is this even real?
He tears the packet open, rolls another condom onto his long length, and then his hands are on me again.
He skims his palm over my hip, down my thigh, up over my stomach.
He bends and catches a nipple in his mouth, teasing, and I feel the answering throb between my legs and cannot believe it.
I’m going to be ruined. I’m going to wake up tomorrow and be a changed person.
I don’t care.
“Roll over for me,” he murmurs against my breast. His palm slides down to my hip and nudges. “Let me look at your ass.”
I roll. Somehow, I find the strength to get my knees under me and push up onto all fours.
I feel his big, warm hands smooth over the back of my thighs, up over my ass, along the dip of my lower back.
He takes his time. He squeezes. He strokes.
One hand slides around and drops between my legs again, and I jerk forward with a gasp when his fingers find my still-throbbing clit.
“So sensitive,” he says behind me, voice rough.
I moan as he works me slowly, lazy circles that build the ache back up in a way I genuinely did not think was possible.
My head drops toward the mattress. My hair falls around my face.
My arms start to shake. I’m making these little broken sounds I can’t control, and he’s humming behind me like my noises are the best thing he’s ever heard.
Then the hand leaves me. I feel his weight shift. I feel the hot, heavy length of him pressing against my entrance again.
And then he pushes in, all the way, in one long, slow glide.
I drop to my forearms with a moan that starts with his name and ends in a curse.
The angle is different. He’s somehow deeper.
He feels enormous from here. My eyes go wide as he starts to move, one big hand gripping my hip, the other sliding up my spine and into my hair. He fists my hair, holding me in place.
I feel dominated.
I like it.
I’m already climbing. My body is shameless and very greedy. It makes wet sounds, trying to hold onto him as he thrusts.
He grunts softly with each one.
Then he picks up the pace, and my headboard starts hitting the wall again.
“Fuck, Robyn!” he grinds out.
Fuck is right.
I’m going to come again, and soon.