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Ryder lifts his mouth from mine. “I really want to fuck you, Elliot.”
“Good. Because I need you to fuck me.”
He takes my mouth, ravishes me, and I return that onslaught with one of my own. “I want to do this right.” He sets me down and we’re at each other, pulling at each other’s clothes. Buttons fly along with items of clothes until we’re naked. His gaze rakes over me. A long, slow exploration that makes me feel like a queen, like I’m glorious, like I’m special.
“You’re incredible,” he says.
His fingers brush against my nipples and I take him in, too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man hotter than him, more beautiful. It’s everything about him. His cock, proud and erect and thick, those muscular long legs, those washboard abs. Did I mention his cock?
I wrap my fingers around him and I start to jerk him off. Long, low, deliberate movements, brushing my thumb over the precum at the head, squeezing.
He grabs my hand and holds it there. “You keep that up and you’re not going to get this job done to your satisfaction.”
“You telling me the great Ryder Sinclair might perform a little early?”
He lifts my hand away and kisses my palm. “The way you do that? Definitely.”
And he kisses me again, wrapping about me and he takes me down to the bed, turning us so one of his thighs is between mine.
This time his mouth moves slow and deep on mine. The kisses are drugging, drawing me into him and he explores me, leaving a trail of glittering fire wherever he touches, down and down, until he reached the apex of my thighs.
There he slides his fingers along me, along my pussy, through the wetness, teasing me. And I push down, seeking more. Ryder laughs softly and he parts my pussy lips and thrusts two fingers into me, making me cry out at the sweet, wanted invasion. I’m tingling and throbbing and the kiss turns fierce as he curls his fingers up and starts working both my g-spot and my clit at the same time.
He breaks the kiss, making his way down my body, burning a path with his mouth until he’s there, between my thighs, and, with his fingers still working me, he licks my clit, drawing it into his mouth and suckling and I cry out at the intense wave that crashes over me.
I rush forward into that pleasure. It’s a sprint to the top, and I come, exploding. And I’m clawing at him, wriggling my hips and dragging my clit from him and moaning, crying, saying words that don’t make sense and Ryder doesn’t stop.
Instead, he moves back up, kissing my lips, then slides down again, kissing a trail from my lips down my throat, taking his time, and I try and push him away because I’m shuddering, I’m so sensitive, but he won’t stop. He keeps up the rhythm.
And as he does so, the pressure and pleasure starts to build again and he works me harder, this time adding small bites and licks as he kisses that path down to my breasts. He takes my nipple in his mouth and he sucks hard, bringing his teeth down on it and I scream.
I come again. Harder, more violently than the last time.
And Ryder stops, pulling his hand free.
He lines himself up and lifts his head, looking down into my eyes as he thrusts into me.
I’m a mess of want and need and everything is too much and not enough and I wrap about him as he starts to thrust into me, slow and steady, long strokes that go so deep I gasp every time.
Still, he watches me as he does so. And he keeps that pace and I’m spiraling up again. I can’t believe it, but I am. I’m on the edge and Ryder knows. “Come for me again,” he whispers.
“I…can’t…”
“Yeah, you can. Come, Elliot. Give yourself to me.”
And incredibly, I start to shake apart again, my body convulsing around him and I can’t see, and he’s there, his mouth on mine and then his control dissolves and he’s kissing me hard and fast, pounding into me and I’m kissing him back, raising my hips to meet him.
There’s so much pressure inside, like it’s way too much, like he needs to stop, but then it morphs into something else. Something so deep and wild that I’m swept up in him.
“Harder, Ryder. Fuck. Harder. More.”
He obliges and this isn’t a masterful onslaught. This is raw, unadulterated need. And there’s nothing but him and me and we’re rutting, fucking, going at each other so hard that it’s like we want to be in the other. It’s wild. Animalistic. Heat and need so intense there’s nothing else but him and me and I want more.
And then he comes, setting me off. And we fly.
I’m satiated, limp, like a boneless creature adrift on a sea of sweet languid warmth when we’re done.
We stay like that, joined, for a long moment or ten after, both of us sweat slicked, breathing hard. His weight is on me and it’s good. But all things end, I guess, and after that eternity, that moment, he kisses me and sighs.
