Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
ryder
“Slowly.” I lean back in the chair, dropping my voice an octave.
Her fingers tremble as she lifts the hem, inch by agonizing inch, revealing the smooth skin of her stomach and the gentle curve of her ribs, until finally, the sweater comes off.
“Good girl,” I murmur, my eyes locked on the black lace of her bra. “Eyes on me.” They flick up. “Now the skirt.”
Noia’s eyes stay locked with mine. When her fingers find the zipper at her hip, the soft rasp of her sliding it down fills the charged silence hanging heavy in the room. With a gentle push, the fabric falls, pooling softly at her feet.
“Christ,” I breathe, taking in the matching black lace panties that barely cover her pussy—she’s fucking soaked already. “Show me that fine ass.”
She obeys, slowly rotating to give me the full view. A strip of black lace is tucked up between those firm globes, and I have to grip the arms of the chair to keep from crossing the room and taking her right now.
“Turn around.” When she does, I suck in a cleansing breath. “Now the bra,” I order, voice rough.
Reaching behind her, she arches her back, breasts straining against the fabric as she unhooks the clasp. The straps slide down her shoulders to her elbows as she holds the cups in place.
“Don’t make me ask twice,” I warn.
When she lets the bra fall away, I’m rewarded with the sight of her full, perfect breasts, dusky pink nipples hard, begging for my touch.
“Now lie down on the bed,” I command. “On your back.”
She moves to the center of the mattress, golden hair fanning out across the pillows. The contrast of her pale skin against the darker sheets is enough to make my cock throb painfully to attention.
Rising from the chair, I grab the book from the end of the bed and flip it open, finding the page I’d marked earlier.
My fingers brush against hers as I hand it to her, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm and I have to clear my throat before I can speak again. “Read the highlighted section.”
Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in what I’ve marked. It’s one of the steamiest scenes in the book.
“Out loud?” she whispers.
“Every word,” I confirm, climbing up onto the bed. “And don’t stop until I tell you to.”
She swallows hard and begins to read, her voice shaky.
“‘His fingers traced a path up her inner thigh, making her tremble with anticipation. ‘Please,’ she begged, beyond caring how desperate she sounded. ‘I need you to touch me.’”
As she reads, I trace the same path described in the book up her inner thigh, watching the goosebumps rise on her skin. Her voice falters when my fingers reach the edge of her panties.
“Keep going,” I remind her gruffly.
She takes a shuddering breath and continues, “‘He smiled wickedly, knowing exactly what he was doing to her as his thumb hooked the delicate fabric, slowly dragging her panties down her trembling legs.’”
I slide the black lace down her thighs as she reads, her voice catching when I toss them aside.
“‘She was beautiful like this, spread out before him, completely at his mercy.” Her voice is growing breathier by the second. “He could see how much she wanted him, could smell the sweet scent of her arousal.’”
I trail my fingers back up her legs, deliberately avoiding where I know she needs me most. “Keep reading, kitten.”
“‘When his mouth finally found her center, she cried out, her back arching off the bed. His tongue was relentless, alternating between gentle licks between her folds and sucking her clit until she was writhing beneath him.’”
Following the book’s lead, I lower my head between her thighs. The first taste of her makes me groan against her slick heat.
“Oh god,” she gasps, the book trembling in her hands.
“Don’t stop,” I command with my mouth against her pussy, the vibration making her hips buck.
As she struggles to focus on the words, I work her with my tongue. “‘She could feel herself climbing higher, every nerve ending on fire. And when he slipped two fingers inside her, she nearly screamed.’”
I curl two fingers into her slick, tight heat, finding the perfect spot, pumping in and out, until her thighs start to shake.
“Ryder, I can’t—” she pants.
“Finish the page,” I growl, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in.
Her voice is a shaky whisper as she reads the final line, “‘The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, leaving her gasping and boneless, completely wrecked from his touch.’”
As if on cue, she comes apart against my mouth, crying out my name as her body convulses. The book falls from her hands as she fists the sheets, riding out wave after wave of pleasure as her inner muscles clutch at my pumping fingers.
When she finally comes down from the high, I grin, pressing gentle kisses to her inner thighs.
Moving up her body, I lean in close enough to brush my lips against her earlobe, inhaling her sweet scent as I go. “You smell delicious,” I whisper against her skin. Her body shudders in response. “And you taste… God, you taste even better.”