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I watch his as he shifts and crosses his arms.
"Moments like these?" he murmurs, and there's a softness there that belies his tough exterior.
"Let me show you," I say as I reach for his hand again.
"Show me?" he echoes in a gravelly tone.
"Reenact," I clarify, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as I lead him further into the space that is so uniquely mine.
"Ah, let me guess the scene..." Ryder begins and steps closer.
"Does the hero kiss the heroine?" I ask, but he answers by crashing his lips into mine, and it's a collision of need and want. His kiss is deliberate, a perfect blend of rough and tender, much like the man himself.
"Then," he murmurs against my lips, his fingers trailing down to the hem of my top, "does he pull her top and bra off like this?" With ease he peels away the fabric, exposing me to his gaze.
I catch my breath, suddenly aware of how real this has become, how the lines between fiction and reality are blurring under Ryder's touch.
Ryder's hands glide up my sides, and he pulls me closer. His lips trail kisses along my jawline, down to my neck, and it feels so right. I gasp as his teeth graze my skin ever so lightly, eliciting a small moan from deep within me.
He cups my breast, his thumb brushing against my hardening nipple as he slips his fingers between our bodies and underneath my thin panties. My back arches involuntarily as he tugs gently on the lace fabric.
I moan softly, arching my back to give him better access. His mouth finds one of my nipples, sucking gently, teasing it with his teeth before taking it into his mouth. I let out a small cry of pleasure as he draws the sensitive bud deep into his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and teeth. My legs weaken, and he lifts me to lay me on the bed.
Ryder lowers his head to kiss his way down my neck, nibbling on my earlobe. He steps back to look at me for a moment, running a hand down my stomach toward the waistband of my shorts but pauses to meet my gaze.
"Show me what happens next, Ryder," I whisper breathlessly.
"Maybe now," he scans my body, "the hero undoes his pants." With a swift move, he pulls down his jeans and underwear. The thick shaft bounds free of its confines.
He grins wickedly. “Now, the hero removes her pants,” he says, unbuttoning my pants and pulling both them and my panties off.
His hand slides between my folds to the wetness between my legs. It feels so good—better than any book could ever describe. His eyes lock on mine once more, and he removes his hand from playing with me to place them in his mouth to taste me.
“Mmm, so good. How about you take over the story now, Jayden? What happens next?”
“The hero fucks the girl. Now! Please, Ryder,” I beg.
Ryder doesn’t make me wait and moves over me. His hardness brushes against my leg before he guides it up between my thighs. I gasp at the sensation of being filled so suddenly like this - it's almost too much for me to process.
He thrusts slowly inside me just as they do in those romance novels - deep and steady while trailing kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone. Each thrust builds a tightness in my core, reminding me why I need this. Why I need him. The bed sways softly beneath us as we move together in rhythm; each groan from him an echo of my own. We grope each other greedily; our hands exploring every curve and valley we can reach while our lips lock once more.
I taste myself, and it only fuels my need.
Ryder continues, each movement, each whispered word unraveling me further—raw, unscripted, nothing like the polished scenes in my books but infinitely more powerful.
His body speaks a language that answers every hidden desire I've ever harbored, every fantasy I've crafted behind the facade of words.
Beneath him, the world narrows to the here and now, to the feel of his weight pressing me into the sheets. This isn't just a scene from a novel; it's the story of us, written in whispers and moans, in the grasp of hands and the meeting of bodies.
“Ryder, I’m so close,” I plead.
He lowers his head to my breast and sucks in my nipple again as he ramps up the movement of his thrust.
“Fuck! Yes!” I scream as my pussy walls pulse and squeeze Ryder’s cock.
"Jayden!" he yells out as my world tilts, and I know—I'm no longer scripting this moment; I'm living it.
While our breathing returns to normal. I'm stretched out beneath Ryder, heart still pounding from what we just encountered. My fingers trace along his arm.
