But he leans away. “Your panties, Tess. I told you to take them off.” He shucks his athletic pants to the floor, stepping out of them, his hand palming the bulge in his grey boxer briefs. “Then put your hands on the counter and bend over.”
Usually, our lovemaking is like a dance. He’s fun and playful, letting me tease him and domme him and devastate him with my toys. His energy tonight is different. He needs something different. My insensitivity at Rip’s has him spinning. He’s craving control. And he wants me to cede my own. I have a choice here. Am I willing to let go?
Holding his gaze, I hook my fingers into the top hem of my panties and shimmy my hips, dropping them to my feet. Stepping out of them, I give him a slow turn before I bend over, ass just in reach of his hands. Picking up the panties with one finger, I drop them down to the countertop. Then, without looking back at him, I place both hands on the counter’s edge and bend at the waist, submitting to his will.
52
My heart races out of control as Ryan steps in behind me, his hands smoothing over my hips, up the curves of my back to my shoulders. I fight a shiver as he presses in, the hard length of his erection still trapped inside his boxer briefs as he leans over me.
“I’m only going to say this once,” he says, his fingers brushing up the column of my throat. “Look at me.”
I gasp as his right hand reaches around to cup my chin and he jerks my face back, twisting my neck. My gaze trails down the length of his arm to his face. It blazes with passion and pain. I hurt him tonight with my dismissal, my feigned disinterest. I see it etched on every line of his handsome face.
“You will never push me at another woman again,” he declares. “Say it.”
Tears sting my eyes as my heart squeezes tight. “I’ll never push you at another woman again.”
“I decide who I bring into my bed.”
I nod once and he lets me go, his hands smoothing back over my neck and shoulders, down my arms, memorizing my body.
“I decide who I kiss,” he adds, bending over to brush his lips against my shoulder, his breath warm on my skin.
I hold back a whimper, loving the feel of him so close, his undivided attention unraveling me.
“I decide who I worship,” he goes on, his hands reaching around to cup my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples and giving them each a twist.
I hiss, arching my back as I press my hips against him. My eyes are shut tight as I just feel him all around me.
“I decide who I fuck,” he says, his right hand drifting down until he’s cupping my pussy, his fingers spreading me open as he drags two through my wetness, circling my clit.
Heat burns through me, spreading across my hips, burrowing straight to my core. I’m on fire for this man, ready to melt. I need more than this soft teasing, but if I ask for it, I’m afraid he’ll stop. He’s in charge right now.
We both groan as he sinks those fingers inside me, lifting me up on my toes as I arch into his touch. “I decide who I covet, Tess,” he declares, kissing my back as he teases my pussy, his free hand snaking around to gently cup my neck.
I tip my chin up, giving him more of me to hold. I love his hand at my throat. I love knowing that it’s him. I love knowing he’ll never hurt me. “Ryan, please,” I beg, unable to keep the words mere thoughts.
“This pussy is mine,” he growls, spearing me with his fingers again.
I whimper, holding back the orgasm desperate to break free.
“This is what I want,” he goes on, his breath hot against my skin as he teases me with tongue and teeth. “This body. This woman with these perfect fucking curves. I want all of you. Every hour. Every day. No other woman compares to you. Fuck, you kill me, Tess. I can’t breathe when you look at me, and I die when you look away. Tell me I can have you.”
“Ryan—”
“Tell me you’re mine,” he begs, his voice hoarse with command. “Not just your pussy. Not your body. We’re not friends who fuck to feel good tonight. We’re more than that. God, just say that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I pant, my neck craning so I can look at him. I need him to see in my eyes. I wrap my hand around his at my throat, holding his gaze. “I’m yours,” I say again. “Kiss me and fuck me. Worship me, Ryan.”
His eyes go dark, and then he unleashes. Jerking his fingers out of my pussy, his other hand drops away from my throat and he leaves me gasping, holding to the counter. Then he drops to his knees behind me. “Spread your legs. Wider. Bend over more.”
I barely begin to bend, my feet shifting wider on the cold tile floor, when his hands smooth over my ass and his fingers delve between my cheeks. He starts working my pussy again, his thumb pressing in at my entrance as his fingers circle my clit, spinning me up. I’m slick and warm and I know what he wants. I lift my right leg, angling my hip out as my toes grip to the bottom handle of a pull-out drawer.
With a groan, he crawls between my legs, twisting himself around to face me, nearly tipping me over as he latches on with his mouth, the back of his head hitting the cabinet.
“Ohmygod,” I cry, holding to the counter with everything I have as he eats me out from his knees, my thighs practically riding his shoulders as my pussy buries his face. “Fuck—I’m gonna come,” I squeal, my legs already trembling.
His arms wrap around my thighs, his hands gripping my ass cheeks hard enough to bruise as he takes my weight, working me with his mouth, his groans creating a delicious vibration that has me seeing stars.
“You’re mine,” he says, his greedy mouth sucking me. His left hand loosens, and then he’s smacking my ass. The sting spreads like fire across my skin, and I whimper with need.
“Again,” I beg, moving my hips against his chin, chasing my release.
He slaps me again, his hand rubbing away the sting. “Come for me,” he commands. “Make me drown.”
“Ohhhh god—” I slur over the words as I clench his face with my thighs, riding out my orgasm against his hot and hungry mouth. It hits me in waves. I rock against him, my arms pushing against the counter as I let it take me. With a shriek, I push off the counter, practically doing a pirouette as I try to escape the stimulation without stepping on him. “I can’t,” I cry, my voice a broken whimper.
He scrambles to his feet, the lower half of his face wet with my release as he chases after me, wrapping me in his arms. “Taste yourself,” he demands, his hands holding firm to my shoulders. “Taste the way your body craves mine. She doesn’t hide from me. She doesn’t push me away. Taste her truth.”
I’m still breathless as I cup his face and pull him to me like a starving animal, my lips parted, ready and waiting for that first taste. We both groan as our lips collide, our tongues flicking as we cling to each other.
Then he’s breaking the kiss, leaving me desperate for more. Grabbing me by the hips, he spins me back around to face the counter. I catch myself, hands splayed against the cold granite as he steps in behind me.
“Bend over, baby. Up on your toes.”
He finally drops his briefs, dick in hand, as he presses between my thighs, seeking entrance.
I widen my stance as best I can, balancing up on my toes to help correct our height difference. He still has to bend at the knees, the backs of my thighs practically riding him as he finds my center and presses in with his tip.
We’re both panting as he drops his hand away, grabbing me by the hips. “Do it,” he orders, and I sink back, dropping down his length and pressing with my hips as he guides me back.
“Oh god,” I cry out again. He whispers a soft curse, both of us shaking as we connect. I feel him inside me, filling me. My core heats as my pussy flutters around him, welcoming him home. “Please, baby, please,” I beg, holding my hips still. I need him to stay in charge. I need him owning me, owning my body.