His fingers slowly dragged the thin material up to her waist and higher. When it snagged on the undersides of her breasts, he murmured, “Take this off.”
She obeyed on instinct, slipping the shirt over her head and then letting it drop to the hardwood floor. She liked a bossy man in the bedroom, because in all other aspects of her life, she was in charge. Not having to make decisions when it came to sex was a relief.
She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and one of Rylan’s hands immediately moved between her legs, his knuckles grazing her clit. Her aching, very swollen clit, a painful result of the decadent man show she’d witnessed.
Her breathing quickened as she remembered the sight of Sloan’s huge cock tunneling in and out of Rylan’s mouth. The way Rylan’s cheeks had hollowed as he sucked as deep as he could. Sloan’s husky grunt of release as he spilled in Rylan’s mouth . . . Rylan’s hungry moan as he swallowed every drop.
“I’ll give you your answers,” he said again, those same cryptic words she couldn’t decipher. He leaned toward the floor, grabbed one pant leg of his jeans, and dragged the faded denim toward him. Then he slid his hand in the back pocket and emerged with a condom, which he wasted no time rolling onto his very prominent erection.
“You want to know what his lips feel like, don’t you?” Rylan prompted.
He tugged her onto his lap so her knees were straddling his broad thighs. His erection rubbed her throbbing core, and when she hissed at the contact, he clutched her ass cheeks and brought her closer. Through the condom she felt the silver barbell at the tip of his cock scraping against her clit with each gentle glide.
“His lips are firm,” Rylan whispered, and then he brought his own lips to her neck and sucked on the delicate tendons there. “Hard. Warm.”
He kissed her jaw, a gentle brush of heat, before licking his way to her ear. She shuddered when he captured her ear lobe between his lips. “You want to know what his hands feel like?” He tipped his head up, searching her face.
Reese found herself nodding. Helpless.
“His hands are rough.” Rylan’s palms traveled down to her breasts. “Dominating.” He squeezed hard enough to make her gasp, the calluses on his fingertips scratching her hypersensitive nipples. “But maybe with you, those hands would be gentle.” Just like that, Rylan loosened his grip and swept his thumbs in a barely-there caress over the tips of her nipples.
Reese whimpered with pleasure. God. She didn’t even know what was turning her on more—Rylan’s capable hands, or his description of Sloan’s.
“You want to know what his dick feels like?”
She gave another wordless nod, and before she could blink, Rylan lifted her hips up, aligned his erection beneath her, and impaled her on it.
Reese cried out, but not in pain. She was soaking wet, so lust-drenched that he slid in with ease. No foreplay necessary, no sweet words. Only his thick shaft filling her, the piercing hitting a spot deep inside. It felt as good as she remembered.
As she grinded slowly against him, his eyes glazed over for a moment before focusing intently. “Where were we?” he rasped. “Right. Sloan’s dick.”
He gripped his hips to still her, but rotated his own in a circular motion that curled her toes and made her knees wobble even though she was sitting down.
“It’s harder than steel,” he told her. “Thick. Pulses when it hits your tongue. It tastes . . .” He paused for a moment, and then his lips stretched in a filthy grin. “Here. You can find out for yourself how it tastes.”
And then he kissed her, a long, drugging kiss, and holy hell, she could taste it. Her pussy clenched painfully, her clit screaming with excitement as she tasted Sloan’s salty essence on Rylan’s tongue. It was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced, and for a second she felt like she was tasting Sloan for real. Not through Rylan, but directly from the source as he groaned her name and came in her mouth. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, spurring her hips to move faster, to ride him harder.
He wrapped both arms around her, his palms sliding up and down her sweat-soaked back. “Jesus Christ,” he choked out. “You’re so tight.”
She bore down on him, pushed at his chest so he was falling onto his back, and rode him even harder. Her back arched as pleasure soared through her, the hot waves skating from her fingers to her toes, her clit to her nipples. It felt so good she could hardly see, scarcely breathe.
Rylan gazed up at her with glittering blue eyes. “If you’re pretending it’s him you’re riding, stop,” he commanded.