Chapter 14 #2
The arousal emanating off him is so fiery that the air practically refracts from it. But there is something else going on behind his eyes. Some kind of war he’s fighting in the privacy of his mind. Even though there’s no point to it. Not within the reality of this situation. He has to know that.
Finally, resignation seems to eclipse the fight.
He removes a key card from his wallet and slides it across the table to me. “Room 704,” he says gruffly. “Five minutes.”
Relief and satisfaction pour through me like warm honey.
He rises from the table, heading to the elevator.
I almost regret starting this little ruse because the sight of his strong back makes me want to climb him right this minute.
I’ve never been one for delayed gratification.
I comfort myself with the image of him opening his door to me in a few minutes, his pants tented. Or better yet, nonexistent.
I tuck the key card away and chew on a couple of mints from the hostess station during my struggle to wait five minutes, springing into action the second the time is up.
When the elevator dings open on Ryan’s floor, I startle at the sight of him loitering in the hall outside his room.
“Lost?” I ask.
Ryan leans against his doorjamb. “I forgot I only have one key card. Didn’t expect to need another.”
I purse my lips. This could also be fun. “Well, entrance shall be granted to thee, if thy key you can find on me.” I twirl slowly to display the many potential spots his key could be hiding on my body.
Ryan glances behind him and over my shoulder, making sure we’re alone. Then he stands back, assessing me. From my heels up my legs and belly to my mid-cut neckline.
“I’d like to search every inch of you,” he says. “But the way I want to do it, we should definitely not be in public.”
“Then you better find your key quick.”
I sidle up to him, turning slightly so that my ass brushes against the hard front of his pants.
His hands fly to my hips, gripping me just shy of too hard.
My high-waisted pants don’t have pockets, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from roaming from back to front all the same, moving dangerously close to where I’m wet already and wanting.
He lingers for a moment and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the side of my neck.
“I know one of your kinks,” he says. “Torture.”
I grind my ass into the bulge of his crotch. “You like it.”
“No, Ana,” he breathes. “I fucking love it.”
He reaches under my blouse, the skin-to-skin contact sending shocks through my core.
(Who needs a zapper? Ryan’s hands are electric enough.) He runs his fingers along the band and straps of my bra before moving to cup my breasts over the fabric, teasing my nipples between his fingers. I arch back against him.
“Christ,” he groans.
“Won’t find Him in there, either.”
“Wouldn’t be so sure,” he says, working his way down my torso. “Your body is the closest I’ve come to seeing God.”
He feels around my waistline, hesitating only a moment before skating his hand down the front of my pants and into my underwear. When he finds my drenched pussy, he seems to be in no hurry to keep looking for the key.
He slides wet fingers over my clit, drawing my breath out in a whoosh, and rubs it slowly, deliberately, working me expertly toward orgasm.
I’m so hot, it doesn’t take much, but just as I’m about to come, he pulls his hand out of my pants entirely.
From the corner of my eye I see him put his fingers in his mouth.
I steady myself against the doorframe. “Who h-has the torture kink?” I ask unevenly.
“Looks like we were made for each other,” he says.
I try to ignore how…significant that sounds, focusing instead on his glazed expression as he drops to his knees, feeling each thigh, then down my calves. My blood is effervescent, rushing to every spot he touches like it’s made of metal and his hands are magnets.
Finally, when he tucks his fingers inside the cuff of my pants, he knows he’s hit pay dirt. He pulls the key out from where it rests against my ankle.
“Thank god,” he says shakily, tapping it against the door as he rises. He swings it wide and gestures for me to precede him into the room.
We don’t get far—the moment the door closes behind us, he’s pressing me against it roughly, his lips on mine punishing.
He breaks away long enough to splay hot kisses down my neck, along my collarbone.
When he dips his tongue deep inside my ear, like he did after that first time we kissed, I again feel a jolt right through to my clit.
My knees give out from the sheer overwhelming pleasure, and he catches me before I collapse.
He lifts me up against the door, pushing into the V of my legs, every inch of his torso against mine, as though he’s trying to vacuum-seal our bodies together.
He’s sucking a spot below my ear that causes the most pathetic whimpering sounds to escape my mouth. I’m all body and earthly delights and no self-consciousness whatsoever.
How is this man so skilled at teasing every erogenous zone that exists on a woman’s body? He must have had lots of sex in his life.
Something whirls in my stomach, an undertow dragging me under.
I banish that thought from my mind. He can have as much sex as he wants, with anyone he wants. If I’m the beneficiary of the skills he hones during his trysts, lucky me. Just appreciate it, Ana. Needless quease begone.
“I believe I was promised a hard fuck,” I pant.
His teeth scrape along my neck. “Impatient, are you?”
“I’d say I’ve been pretty patient—waited for it all day,” I confess, past the point of self-preservation. So what if he knows? It’s not like he feels any differently, judging by the evidence driving against me.
“Waited for me to fuck you hard,” he says, as if the words taste delicious in his mouth. “To give your greedy pussy the treatment it craves.”
Of their own volition, my muscles clench. He feels it right where his own need is concentrated most, his eyes closing unsteadily. I can barely breathe, let alone respond, loving that this taciturn man has such a mouth on him.
Still holding me up with strong hands under my ass, he walks farther into the room, which I vaguely note looks like he just arrived, nary a personal item scattered anywhere. Even his suitcase is tucked away, fulfilling my expectation of him so thoroughly, so reliably, it makes my throat swell.
I dismiss the thought, climbing down and undressing as quickly as humanly possible. My clothes crumple on the floor at my feet, the only thing out of place in his pristine room. Ryan is riveted, cataloging my every move.
“Get on the bed,” he says. His voice is low, the command firm.
I sit, my breasts swaying, and his eyes flash to them as he falls to his knees before me.
He pushes my legs open, exhales a harsh breath when a crude sound emanates from my wet labia parting.
“Fuck,” he growls, descending as if by rote—as if he can’t possibly see the evidence of my desire without diving for it, living to satisfy it.
And satisfy it he does. His light edging from the hallway comes to fruition as he goes to work on my pussy like it’s his literal job. The flat of his tongue delivering consistently, with single-minded dedication.
“Ryan,” I gasp. “Don’t stop—I’m going to come.”
He groans in response, making out with my clit like it’s the love of his life, sucking on it, his fingers stroking inside me zealously until the sensations are so overwhelming I don’t know which part of him is pushing me over the edge—I just know I’m flying like a winged creature in a clear blue sky.
He doesn’t stop, seems like he’d keep going indefinitely if I didn’t tug him up my body, fumbling at his clothes as they abrade my over-sensitized skin.
He makes quick work of his shirt, jeans, and briefs while I reach for a condom from my purse. He climbs back over me, moving like a jungle cat, the undulation of his muscles turning me into a Neanderthal, so basic in my mindless attraction to the display of sheer strength.
He takes the small square packet from my hand, ripping it with trembling hands and rolling the condom on in record time. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“We’ve been together all day,” I say.
He notches the tip of his erection inside me, eyelids fluttering shut at how fucking right it feels. Or am I projecting? “We’ve been working all day. But my thoughts have been”—he slides deeper—“very NSFW.”
I gasp at his entry, my pussy fastening tight around him. Like it’s been waiting for this—for him—to feel complete. Exactly as it should be.
“Goddamn,” he rasps, snaking his arms around me, gathering me so close that my breasts crush against his chest. “You feel so perfect. I want to fuck you forever, baby.”
His words tie my throat up in knots. My heart beats so hard against my sternum, I’m sure he can feel it against his own.
I’m very aware of my legs wound around his hips, holding him so fixedly to my body that he can barely pull out before driving back into me again.
Very aware that he seems reluctant to pull out at all, as though any space between us has personally wronged him and he’s seeking revenge by eliminating it entirely.
Very aware of the words baby and forever lingering in the air like smoke from a burning fuse.
I unwind my legs, drawing my knees up. Giving him better access.
Relinquishing attachment.
He made a promise, and Ryan is a man of his word.
“Hard,” I say.
He rises up on his elbows, the sound of his lips de-suctioning from my neck audible in the quiet room, and looks down at me, a question in his eyes. Is he surprised I’m cashing in on what I was promised?
Or does he know I’m responding to the words he just uttered?
I school my face into a sultry pout, my eyes heavy-lidded. Trying another tack, I implore him again. “Please will you fuck me hard, sir?”
His gaze narrows, studying me intently. Then, a quirk in his lips shows he’s willing to play along. For now.
“At your command,” he says, drawing back and thrusting with such force it takes me a second to get a breath.
I asked for it but wasn’t prepared. Even digging my heels into the mattress and bracing one hand against the headboard is no defense against the onslaught of Ryan’s cock.
He pounds into me with such delicious roughness that I’m driven up the bed, his mouth everywhere—on my lips, my neck, my shoulders and breasts, like he can’t get enough.
Like he wants to imprint the taste of me on his tongue.
Forever, baby.
The sensations come from every angle. The friction in my pussy and against my clit; the suction on my skin; the bounce of the mattress under my back; the weight of Ryan’s body on top of mine, pinning me with a force so solid, so certain, that it causes something squishy and undefined to crowd my chest.
“Ryan.” His name catches in my throat.
He stops immediately. “Too much?”
“No, it’s…it’s not that,” I say. Why did I even say anything?
I feel so safe, somehow, coveted, his body wrapped around mine like armor. I have to remind myself that this is temporary. That I don’t want it to be anything else.
He doesn’t move, concern gathering in his forehead. “Are you okay? Ana, I’m sorry, I—”
He starts to pull out but I yank him back, my nails digging into his ass.
God, there is no fucking give, even there.
“No, I want it,” I say. There’s no part of me that wants him to stop, or slow down, or go easy on me.
If anything, I want him to do the opposite—pound me so rough I can’t walk straight, can’t think about anything beyond how to get air into my lungs. “I want you to go even harder.”
He watches me for a moment, breathing deeply. Understanding seems to spread across his features as all tenderness evaporates from his face, replaced by that old forbidding frown.
He pulls out brusquely, kneeling up. I feel so empty suddenly, hollowed out, devoid of the very thing I need.
Just as I’m about to protest, to plead, to beg for him to fill me again—to tell him I don’t know what’s happening inside my head, but I do know there’s no world in which he doesn’t belong inside me—he flips me over onto my stomach.
I barely register the change in position before he pulls my hips up, tucks a pillow beneath them, and drives into me from behind, so deep his firm stomach smacks against the swell of my ass.
“This how you want it?” he rasps in my ear. “So hard you can’t think past it? Can’t feel anything but the pound of my cock inside you.”
My chest tightens, my eyes stinging even as pleasure practically blinds them. And he doesn’t let up, pumping into me mercilessly, hitting my G-spot dead-on and stealing every thought from my mind. A man of his word.
“I’ll fuck you however you want, Ana, you know that by now. My cock can’t stand down if I’m anywhere near your orbit, and I’ll serve it up to you any way you wish.”
I clench around him, his words causing the involuntary response, and his groan vibrates against my back.
His arms wind around my torso, gathering me close.
Pressure builds in my core as my head clouds with delicious images of Ryan yielding to my desire whenever I want.
A misty, senseless thought bubble forms—you can have him forever—before dissolving like a contrail in the sky.
“I’ll make you come until your legs give out.” His breath is hot on my neck, a shadowy undertone to his hoarse voice. “Even if that’s all you want from me.”
His hand snakes down to rub my swollen clit, the sensation combining with the storm on my G-spot to bring on an orgasm that’s more wallop than wave.
The impact is so shattering that a scream rips from my throat, muffled in the mattress as I clutch futilely at the sheets.
He crushes me to him as he shudders through his own release, as though he needs every inch of my skin against his to be able to come, as though our bodies can snuff out the words that hang both said and unsaid in the air.