“You’re sitting here eating my food with a condom on. Seriously?” I take in the length that’s growing, jutting up at me.
He stands, looming large in the small space. He strokes himself, giving his head a twist.
“A man gets hungry, Sugar,” he says as he towers over me.
Swooping down, he kisses me, tasting like chips.
“Honestly, I don’t care where I am when I’m with you.” The timbre of his voice is husky. “Take your underwear back off. Please.” His forehead is against mine. “I want to fuck.”
I smile. I’m getting used to his demands. “I did have vodka. It tends to make me take my clothes off.”
He tilts my face up. “Ah, Miss Ryan, don’t blame all this on alcohol. This…” He reaches down, slips his hand inside my panties, and gives me a one-finger touch that’s there and then gone. “This is all you and me.”
I’m already moaning and opening my legs for him before he even stops talking.
I reach down and slip my panties past my hips and off. I twirl them around. “Happy?”
Damn, I like watching his eyes burn.
I tug at a strand of his hair. “I like how you look at me like you might die if you don’t fuck me.”
His lashes flutter. “I like it when you say fuck.”
“Fuck me then,” I say. “Quietly.”
“That’s going to be difficult. You call out my name…a lot.” His voice is raspy.
“Put your hand over my mouth.” My chest rises with a shiver of excitement.
“My pleasure.”
Need vibrates inside me, and part of me wonders if I should be ashamed of my brazenness, but I shove those thoughts away. We’ve gone this far, and I’m a woman and he’s a man, and this is the best sex I’ve ever had.
His shoulders rise and fall as he stares at me, ghosting over my hair and face. He cups my breast, flicking his finger over my nipple.
“Please,” I whisper, not ashamed to beg. Tomorrow I’ll worry about why he has this control over me, but right now, I just want him.
“Turn around and lean over the fridge,” he whispers. “I’ve been dreaming about taking you from behind.” I do as he says, facing the wall, and my legs tremble in anticipation as he parts them with his knee, his chest against my back. “Press your hands against the back wall and hang on.”
He gently traces his fingers down my skin and outlines the cameo with the white lily inside that’s in the center of my back. I shiver.
“I love your tattoo.” He reaches around, pushes my shirt up, and cups my breasts. I groan at his touch.
Then he worships me.
His lips and hands are everywhere in the quietness and small space, pushing my hair over my shoulders and sucking on the skin on my back, playing with the curve of my elbow and then tracing his hands down to my legs. He bites me tenderly and I quiver. My body ignites. Again. So ready, so open. I’ll do anything with him.
“Put your ass up more,” he whispers as he crouches behind me on his haunches, and I obey, gasping when I feel his tongue on me, licking me. His fingers spread me apart and he devours me, touching me, making me moan his name.
“Shhhh,” he whispers against my skin, his tongue hot, so hot against my skin.
When I’m a dripping mess and whimpering, aching to come, he finally stands and strokes down my back.
“I’m going to fuck you slow, Miss Ryan.” His hand covers my mouth, giving me just enough room to breathe, and I quake with excitement, needing him inside me.
Moving to adjust, I’m standing on tiptoe as he slides inside, his fingers on my clit, playing me in tune to his thrusts.
A long groan escapes his lips as he picks up speed, one hand over my mouth and one on my hip. “I love this,” he grunts in my ear. “I feel you around me, and this is the best thing I’ve felt in a really long time. I could fuck you for days without ever stopping. I don’t know why it’s so good, but….” His voice trails off as he clutches my hips, his fingers a brand on my body.
I tighten my walls around him and he lets out a groan, mumbling my name and several adjectives about my anatomy under his breath.
He’s incoherent.
And I want more.
My legs are near collapsing, but I don’t want this to end. I can barely breathe and I groan as his hips twist to get a deeper angle.
He growls, moving his legs to get a better position inside me. “You make me feel on top of the world when I fuck you. I can win a championship inside you. I could run the whole fucking world.” His voice is guttural as he goes deeper. “I want this pussy tomorrow and the next day and the next. Do you hear me?”
I nod, my juices dripping down my legs.
“I’m going to make you see stars.” He rubs his thumb across my bum, applying the tiniest bit of pressure there until I squirm.
“You like this, Miss Ryan?” he whispers.
I nod, breathing around his hand.
His wet finger presses inside me, just a little, and then back out. He plays there, so soft, so gentle, until I feel weak. I sway on my feet and his hips stop moving, his length twitching inside me as he adjusts me. Heavy breathing and silence fill up the closet and, shit, I want so much more. I wiggle back at him.
I picture how I must look, bent over and legs apart, my mouth covered by his hand, ready and open for anything. I yearn to see him, to look at his face, to pull on his hair, but right now, I want him moving inside me.
I moan deep in my throat, and he growls behind me, his lips brushing my shoulder as he picks up his pace again, sliding out and back in, excruciatingly slow.
His finger is back and goes in more, slipping inside me deeper and rubbing, tightening everything until I feel every ridge and vein in his cock. Sharp tingles ripple over me, and my mouth opens, gasping as he plays there, going deeper each time as he thrusts.
He lets out a curse and the hand around my mouth loosens and traces the curve of my cheek before trailing down my back and landing on my hip. I don’t know why. Maybe he’s losing control just like I am.
He takes my hips and owns me. Time seems to stand still as he grinds against me, twisting his hips and I…I…I can’t think. Is it always like this with him? I want to give him everything. I want to…
He whispers my name over and over…and I know…I know he’s right there with me. This can’t be how it always is. Can’t be.
“Mine,” he grunts and slides into me, and it’s such a stereotypical male thing to say, but with him, shit, it’s real and the alpha in him is electric, something I didn’t even know I wanted.
Z…he’s not like anyone I know, and in that closet, I see it. I see that he’s so out of my league, intense and raw and a hot flame, and I know—I just know I’m going to get burned. Like a moth to a flame, I’m going to be incinerated, I’m going to cry someday, but right now, I don’t care. I’ll take it.
The slapping of our bodies, the sound of our sex, the dark confined space, and the fact that Julia might be able to hear us—it sends me over the edge.
I burst apart inside that closet. I see stars and rainbows.
He speeds up, his thrusts alternating between hard and soft, rough and teasing, and I stand up higher and higher on my toes, and I don’t mind because he is all that matters and I want him to let go and get that high just like I did.