Page 35 of Ryder’s Storm

Ryder felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He’d hit the jackpot: Scarlet wasn’t disgusted by his two cocks. On the contrary, she seemed to be delighted and rather eager to explore his naked body. In anticipation of burying himself in her sweet body, his cocks were already harder than a crowbar, or rather two crowbars.

Scarlet rose from the bed and reached behind her to open her bustier.

“Take your time,” Ryder said, letting his eyes roam over her curves. “I wanna enjoy this.”

She smiled at him. “Well, in that case…” She bent down to kick off her high heels one by one, then turned around. “Why don’t you give me a hand with it?”

She stepped back so she brushed against his cocks, making Ryder hiss in a breath.

“You’re literally a cock-tease,” he said, gripping her hips and pulling her against his body, his cocks between them, the contact driving him half insane.

After a second, he stepped back, then released her hips and found the zipper of her bustier. Slowly, he pulled it down, and the garment fell to the floor. From behind her, Ryder slid his arms around Scarlet, and covered her breasts with his palms. Stiff nipples greeted him, and he kneaded her supple flesh, loving how she yielded to his touch.

Ryder dipped his head to her neck and pressed his mouth to her warm skin, inhaling her female scent. Scarlet’s carotid artery pulsed against his lips, tempting the vampire in him to taste her. One day soon, he hoped, but not tonight. One step at a time, one secret at a time.

Scarlet leaned back against him, but he stopped her from pressing her delectable ass into his groin by sliding his hands back down to her hips.

“The skirt,” he demanded, his heart thundering, his cocks twitching in excitement. “Open the zipper.”

She reached to her right and slowly lowered the zipper of her tight skirt. Then she wiggled out of it, until it pooled around her feet. She stepped out of it. She wore a thong tonight, a black lace thong with barely enough fabric to qualify as an item of clothing.

“Fuck, Scarlet,” he growled. “That’s how you left the house tonight?” He gripped her hips. “Had I known, I would have bent you over my knees the moment you came downstairs.”

Scarlet turned her head to look over her shoulder, an innocent expression on her face. “Would you like to do that now?”

Before he could react, she bent forward, resting her head and arms on the edge of her bed, her ass pointed at him like an offering. He nearly lost it right there. He’d never slapped a woman, not during sex, not in anger, and not even in play. But right now, the thought of his palm connecting with the soft skin of her exposed ass cheeks sent a shudder down his spine and into his balls.

“Christ, Scarlet! Are you trying to make me lose the last bit of my self-control?”

“Is it working?”

“What do you think?” he replied, and slapped her white flesh, eliciting a moan to roll over her lips.

“Again,” she demanded.

“You like that?” he asked in surprise.

“Don’t you?”

He slapped her other cheek, then laid both his hands on her ass to calm her skin. He had no intention of hurting her. “Maybe another day, we’ll explore how far you want to go with this. But tonight”—he gripped her thong and pulled it off her with such force that the skimpy garment ripped—“I wanna make love to you.”

She spread her legs, her chest now fully resting on the bed, but he wasn’t ready to subject her to the satyr way of sex.

“Turn around, Scarlet. I want to look into your eyes. And I want you to see me this time. No more hiding.”

Scarlet rose and turned to him. Her gaze roamed from his face down to his groin and lower, when she suddenly chuckled.

For an instant he feared the worst: that she was playing with him.

“You’re still wearing socks.”

He followed her gaze to his feet. Scarlet was right. How could he have missed that? “I had no idea.” He grinned.

“Apparently that sort of thing happens when all the blood leaves the brain to support…” She chuckled. “… two cocks.”

“Are you making fun of me?” he asked, while he rid himself of his socks, enjoying this newfound playfulness.

“I wouldn’t dare,” she replied with a chuckle. “Or you might bend me over your knees and slap me as punishment.”