The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

“Tell me you’re not moving out and I’ll do exactly that.”

Who am I kidding? I’m not going anywhere, especially now that I know how he looks between my thighs. How soft yet rough his tongue feels.

“Come on, Blue. Tell me what I need to hear.”

He blows a breath against my clit, bringing me closer once again.

“I’m…” I struggle to breathe, my orgasm lingering on the edge. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The bastard has the audacity to smirk.

“Please,” I beg.

“Is this how I keep you polite? Teasing you with an orgasm?”

“Shut up and make me come.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh before he adds a finger, sucks me into his mouth, and sends me free-falling into an orgasm-induced oblivion.

It’s the sound coming from him that does it for me. The laughter, the ease on his face. The handsome smile he wears that I didn’t see much of when I first moved in. Seeing Ryan relaxed with me is what drops me over the edge.

His mouth works me through it as my thighs tighten around his cheeks, my back arching off the bed. He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick me, taste me as if he’s fully prepared to stay there all night.

My body goes limp on the mattress, fully satisfied and sated. I can’t help but smile when I think about the fact that just weeks ago, I thought my body was broken. It’s sure as shit not broken, and it’s not a distraction I needed, but it was him.

Ryan licks my arousal, tasting it from his lips with a proud smile and a slap of my ass. “My favorite kind of mess.”

“Physical touch,” I exhale, somehow finding the strength to speak.

“What was that?”

“Physical touch. I think your love language might be physical touch.”

He blows out a sexy laugh. “Yeah, baby, I think you might be right.”

His hooded eyes roam my body, and with that appreciative stare, I feel no need to hide. Truthfully, I’ve never felt the need to hide with Ryan Shay. Since the first day I got here, I’ve been unapologetically myself.

He stands at the end of the bed, palms coasting over my thighs.

“How’s it feeling?” I nod towards his leg.

“Ind, you’re still dripping, and you’re worried about my knee?”

“Who said I was asking about your knee?”

An impressive little smirk tugs on his lip. “If you’re referring to my knee, it’s all right. If you’re talking about my dick, it’s painfully hard.”

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I keep my legs open around him. A single hand takes my face, fingers pushing into my hair as he tilts my chin up and kisses me, letting me taste myself on his lips.

He moans into me. “I fucking love kissing you.”

I sweep my tongue into his mouth, swallowing his noises.

While we’re occupied, I fiddle with the belt on his pants. My fingers graze the dusting of hair above his waistband and Ryan’s stomach tightens from my touch.

Inhaling sharply, he pulls his lips away, resting his head on mine and looking down at my explorative fingers.

“Tell me what you want, Ind.”

I run a palm over him, through his pants.

“Use your words, Blue.”

“I want it.”

“Where?”

“In my mouth.”

“Mmm,” he hums a satisfied noise, pushing my hair out of the way. “Then take it out and show me what you can do.”

He unclasps his belt quickly, and as soon as his pants hit the floor, my fingers are in his waistband pulling down his boxer briefs and freeing his cock.

He winces when he has to stand using only his injured leg to get them past his ankles.

“Ryan, sit down for me.” I nod towards the chair in the corner of his room.

A small flash of relief washes over him. I know he’s trying to be in the moment. I know he wants to be in control, but he’s also in pain.

Ryan takes a seat, leaning back, one arm resting on the top of the chair. His legs are sprawled out as if he were a king waiting to get his cock sucked, and in my mind, he is.

God, he’s beautiful. All man. All mine. Thick legs, cut arms, shadows showcasing the concaves of his stomach muscles. He’s big and smooth and hard and I’ve never wanted anyone more.

When my gaze finally makes it to his, he takes his lower lip between his teeth, smirking. “What are you looking at?” He wraps a fist around his cock, stroking it a few times.

I refuse to play games or make him unsure of how much I want him. “You.”

His chest puffs. “You painted a pretty picture earlier, but now I want the real thing.”

I glow under his appreciative stare as I make my way between his legs, falling to my knees. Palms running the length of his thighs, I watch him, memorize him. His size is intimidating from this angle, with his hard length protruding upwards and begging for a release.

My thumb swipes over the head, gathering the bead of precum.

“Fuck.” Ryan’s head falls back to the chair behind him.

His moans and whimpers remind me that he hasn’t been touched in too long, and I’m the woman with the privilege to change that.

I’ll savor every moment.

I allow my hands to roam his thighs and stomach, appreciating every dip and curve of his muscular body. Ryan watches me with hooded eyes as he runs his hands over my hair, stroking it softly, before gathering it all in a single fist.

Finally, I run my fingers over his length. It’s hot and smooth, hard. Ryan groans from that alone. There’s no way he’s going to last long, and I don’t want him to. He shudders when I wrap my hand around him, and when my red nails can’t connect around his width, they’re practically a flashing warning sign that he's bigger than I’ve ever experienced.

“Look how good your hand looks around me, Ind.”

There’s no denying that. I love the way I look around him, and even more so, I love the way he’s watching, as if he needs to remember every moment.

Gently, I place a kiss on the head before licking him from base to tip.

“Oh, fuck,” he curses, and I can’t help but smile around him, sensing this controlled man on the brink of becoming unhinged. “Your tongue looks even better.”

My lips form a ring, taking him as deep as I can, sucking him all the way back up. His tip is already leaking, but I clean it up with a sweep of my tongue. Head bobbing, I stroke my lips down his shaft, swirling my tongue as I go.

His words are labored and raspy. “Eyes on me, Indy.”

Looking up, I find him staring at me with dark eyes and a ticking jaw, attempting to maintain some semblance of control. His hips are twitching, holding back from letting loose and fucking my mouth without restraint. Hand splayed on his thigh, I hold on for balance, sensing it’s coming soon.

“Goddamn,” he exhales. “I knew you were going to look so pretty on your knees, Blue.”

His praise has me moaning around him before sucking, twisting my hand around the base that can’t fit.