Releasing a tired sigh, I close my eyes and do the one thing that I have wanted to do since Ryder came back. My hands find his face and I let myself see him how I used to, through touch. He keeps still and lets me explore. I start at his hair, my fingers running through the soft, messy strands until I reach the ends that brush the back of his neck. It has me remembering how much I loved to feel it when we would kiss, especially our desperate kisses, the ones where I would grip so tightly because I never wanted him to stop.
Dragging my fingers forward, I drift them across his strong jaw that is rough with minor stubble, just like it was six years ago. Does he look much different now than he did back then? He feels much the same, the only thing I notice is his body is a little more muscular, not that he was lacking that back in high school, but he is definitely harder, more… defined. At least from what I could tell with the little contact I’ve had with being against him. He is as good looking as I expected. Not because of what everyone else told me about him, but because I knew him deep down, I knew the very depths of him. And one thing I had learned with my disability was that is where true beauty lies. Ryder, though, is lucky to have both.
I run my finger down his nose now and pass over the familiar bump. “Is this visible?”
“No.”
At the memory, I reopen my eyes to see that it is, in fact, not visible, even being this close up. I also see Ryder’s expression is intense, his green eyes dark with something I can’t name, but it has my heart pounding wildly and my mouth going dry.
I hold his warm gaze and move to his soft, firm lips. I trace their outline and remember how incredible they felt all those years ago, and even more so a few hours ago. As I explore, he encircles my wrist and presses a kiss to the inside of my palm. The intimate and familiar gesture has my heart warming.
I don’t know who moved first – him or me – but suddenly our mouths are connected in a heated passion that is both hot and demanding. I moan the moment his tongue slips past my lips, his erotic taste flooding my senses and reaching all the way to my soul. Oh god, I’ve missed this, I’ve missed him.
“I’ve missed you too, Em, so fucking much.”
I hadn’t realized I said the words out loud until now, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except for feeling what this man does to me, what he has always done to me. I slide my fingers in his hair and grip the soft strands with desperation, wanting to get lost in him, wanting him to take me back to a time where nothing in the world mattered but us.
“Goddamn, you are the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted,” he mumbles before pulling his mouth away to run his warm lips down the column of my throat.
I want to tell him he tastes good too, but he has completely robbed me of speech and all I can manage is incoherent sounds. His lips descend to my collarbone, my breasts becoming swollen and achy, craving his touch. As if knowing my thoughts, he pulls down the front of my dress, bunching it at my waist, and wastes no time ridding me of my strapless bra. My sensitive breasts tumble free into his waiting hands and I gasp at the warm contact, my panties growing wetter by the second.
A low growl erupts from his throat, his gaze hot and hungry as he stares at my exposed breasts. “I forgot how perfect your tits are,” he grates roughly before leaning in and taking a puckered, aching nipple into his hot, wet mouth.
An explosion of fire erupts through my body and my head falls back on a cry. I gaze up at the clear, dark sky that is blanketed in a million stars, as I get lost in a storm of pleasure. Ryder’s hand moves to cup my other breast, giving it the greedy attention it yearns for. His thumb and forefinger pinch the sensitive tip with enough force that pleasure and pain become one.
“Ryder!” I whimper and grind down on his erection, desperately seeking relief for the fierce ache between my thighs.
He growls from the contact and lifts his hips for more pressure. “Jesus, Emily, you are going to burn me alive. I can feel the heat of your pussy through my fucking jeans.”
His erotic words cause another wave of heat to pass through me. “Then take them off,” I say boldly, surprising myself.
He groans in what sounds like disappointment. “No, baby, not here. I’m not fucking you here. I need a bed for when I get back inside of you, because I’m not going to stop fucking you for hours, Emily. I’m going to fuck you so goddamn hard you will feel me inside of you for weeks to come.”
Oh god.Will it be tonight? Do I invite him inside when we get back to my house? Do I want to? My body most certainly does, but my scarred heart is a little hesitant. Do I really want him to consume me – body and soul – only to leave me again?
“Stop that shit, stop fucking thinking. It’s not happening tonight, I know we have shit to sort out.”
Is he talking about my father? About why he left?
I get pulled out of my thoughts and cry out in pleasure when he takes a sharp nip at my beaded nipple. “I said stop fucking thinking, only feel, baby.”
I follow his command, and push his open dress shirt down his arms then pull up the T-shirt he wears underneath. “Take this off so I can feel you against me.” He sheds himself of the shirt within seconds then pulls me in close, wrapping me in his strong embrace. Electricity shoots through my entire body, and all the oxygen flees from my lungs.
“Damn, you have the softest skin I’ve ever felt,” he mumbles, burying his face into my neck.
We do nothing for a moment but hold each other, feeling a connection that I know I will never feel with anyone else. I’ve tried, god I have tried to move on, but I couldn’t. I thought it was because I had no closure, but now that he’s back I know that isn’t the case. It’s because he still holds so much of my damaged heart.
Ryder pries my knees apart from his hips before running his hands up the inside of my thighs. I moan, my body trembling in anticipation for what’s to come. He reaches my panty line then gently runs a knuckle down the center of my wet panties, causing slight shock waves to travel through my body. I gasp and he groans. “Fuck me, you are soaked.”
My response is another moan as I thrust my hips toward his touch, craving more pressure. “Ryder, please,” I plead breathlessly.
“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” He pushes my panties aside and runs two fingers through my wet flesh, skimming over my swollen clit before inserting a single finger inside of me.
“Oh god!” I cry out at the sweet invasion.
His groan is guttural. “Oh fuck, your pussy is as hot and tight as I remember it.” He begins pumping his finger in and out of me. “Look, baby. Look between us, watch what my finger is doing to your sweet pussy.” I glance between our bodies, and the erotic sight has my inner walls clamping down around his finger. The need for release becomes so fierce, so overwhelming, that I feel like my body is about to combust.
I grab onto his broad shoulders, my nails digging into the grooves of hard muscle, and I begin moving my hips in rhythm to his thrusts. “That’s it, take it, baby, fuck my finger.” I whimper at his dirty words and my body teeters on the edge, so close to shattering, and Ryder senses it. “Look at me, Emily!” My eyes snap to his at the command and I suck in a sharp breath at the intensity of them. He gives me a dirty grin. “Good girl. I want to see your pretty eyes when you come all over my hand.” With those words, he flicks his wrist and changes the position of his hand. His palm now stroking against my swollen, aching clit and his finger reaching a spot inside of me I didn’t know existed.
“Oh, Ryder, it’s so good, I’m going to come,” I whimper breathlessly.