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Ryder smiled at her. “It was a very nice kiss,” he agreed.
“Would you kiss me again? Like that?”
Easy, he told himself. Go easy here. “Why don’t you kiss me?” he suggested. “Show me what you liked about that kiss. And we’ll see where it goes from there.”
In the moonlight, he could see the intrigued half-smile.
He waited.
Jessie kissed him on his lips, exploring them, and then teasing them open with her tongue. He touched her tongue lightly with his own, then let her explore his mouth. He closed his eyes at the sweetness of her kiss.
“He didn’t want me to kiss his mouth,” she said painfully. “Or to touch him.”
“You can kiss me all you want,” Ryder said. “And touch me anywhere, Jessie. Explore to your heart’s content. Please,” he added teasingly. “I’ll beg you, if you want.”
That made her laugh, and if there was one thing he’d learned it was that making a woman laugh was the best way to get her into bed, and the route to great sex. A relaxed woman was a better lover, hands down.
So he laid there and let her explore his body with her hands and her mouth. As she felt his response, she gained confidence, and the touches were bolder. The bastard had raped her, he thought grimly, had no one ever actually made love to her? He was careful to not let that thought show. Just feel, he commanded himself. Enjoy.
“Ryder?” she asked, huskily. “Will you touch me?”
“It would be my pleasure,” he assured her. “What would you like?”
She groaned. “I don’t know!” she wailed, and then flinched that others would hear. There was nothing from the other men, and she relaxed. Ryder didn’t tell her that they could probably hear it all. Shifter hearing.
“Would you like me to touch you, like you touched me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, gratefully. “Yes.”
She started to roll, to be under him, but he settled her on top of him instead. He wanted to see her, pale in the moonlight. She was slim, with small breasts. Some old voice cracked, anything more than a mouthful is a waste, and he grinned. He’d gotten quite the education — the salty old vets on one hand, and on the other, his mother who had seen to it that he knew about sex, about protection, about everything. He was grateful to them all.
So he played. He teased, and tasted, and touched. It was a pleasure to watch her responses, to watch her body soften and respond. He stroked her until she arched with pleasure, and a small nip with his fingers, and she came. “I’m sorry,” she wailed.
He laughed. “Don’t be,” he teased. “A woman can always come again.”
She collapsed toward him, her head resting on his shoulder. “I’m so ignorant,” she said, and she sounded stressed. “I don’t know what to do to make you take me.”
Ryder rocked her gently. “Be very sure, Jessie, that this is what you want,” he said seriously. “I can stop here, but we’re getting to the point of no return. I want you. God, I want you. But only if you want it too.”
She kissed him, and this kiss was hungrier, more passionate. “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Take me.”
Ryder still took his time. In some ways, he felt like this was her first time. And for sure, it wastheirfirst time. It was important. But finally his own body insisted that he take her. And he did —still leaving her on top. Really this was his favorite position. He got to look —men were visual creatures, right?
He laughed at that, and then he thrust inside her, feeling her clench around him, listening to her gasps of pleasure as he established a rhythm that would please them both. He saw her arch again as she started to climax, and he thrust harder until he felt his own release.
She fell onto his chest again, and he arranged her comfortably, stroking her back again. She smiled up at him, and then she was asleep.
He chuckled. Supposed to be the man who goes to sleep first, but he felt energized by the sex. By the talking.
He waited for a bit to make sure she was really asleep, and then he said softly, “So how did I do, Dr. Garrison? Therapeutic? Catharsis?”
“You did excellently,” Benny said, amusement in his voice. “Couldn’t have done better myself. The therapy, I mean,” he added hastily. Ryder laughed.
“Not just for her,” Benny continued. “That’s the first time you’ve shared all of that story, too.”
Ryder was silent. “She needed to know I would understand,” he said. “To know that I too knew about friendly fire and feeling betrayed by the very people I should have been able to trust.” He hadn’t said it, but he’d known the man who threw that grenade. What he didn’t know —would never know — was if the man had known who he threw the grenade at. He blew breath out his lips and thought now about what she’d said.
“The Chinese Alpha?” he asked. “That didn’t sound good. And what is a dònglì diànchí?” He didn’t think he’d pronounced it right — Chinese wasn’t his language. Hell, he mangled English most of the time.
