Duke of Manhattan

He grunted, stroked his hand over my belly and around my waist, pulled out and thrust sharply again. The hint of pain intensified the pleasure and I knew this was unmistakably us. It was how we fit together. No man would ever make me feel like this again. So possessed.

He dug his hand into my waist, the other one curling around my shoulder. I closed my eyes in a long blink. I knew the next thrust from him would be the deepest yet. He pushed sharply into me, and I started to unwind.

Ryder knew my body well enough now to read every sign. I could hide nothing from him when we fucked.

“See how quickly you come? How fast I make you come?”

I couldn’t react or respond. I had no control over my body or mind. It was all his.

I shuddered as my climax rushed over me; the drumming in my ears reached a crescendo, every part of me dissolving, my whole body trying to float off the bed.

The next thing I was aware of was Ryder chanting “So beautiful. So beautiful” while rocking in and out of me.

I smoothed my hand up his arm and gazed at him—the edges of his hair were damp with sweat and his broad, rounded shoulders glowed as if he had just finished a workout.

“Flip onto your stomach,” he said, pulling out of me.

I tensed. What did he have in mind? I’d had his finger and thumb inside my ass. I’d never experimented with any anal play with my ex, but with Ryder there was no saying no and I found I liked it.

He turned me over and dragged me back toward him so my legs hit the floor. “I know you can’t stand, baby, but I need to be in that ass of yours.”

I gasped. And I flung one hand back, covering my bottom. A finger was one thing. His dick was quite another.

“You’re so wet, baby; it’s going to feel so good.” He delved inside me with his fingers and as if to prove his point, began to lubricate my ass. “So, so wet.”

Normally he circled and stroked my ass, relaxing me until I was almost begging for his fingers. But today he was impatient and his thumb pressed through the circle of muscles before I expected them to. I moaned into the mattress. How could I still feel this turned on despite coming twice?

“Oh yes, you’re getting good at this, aren’t you?” He thrust his cock into my pussy, complementing his thumb above. “You want more.” It wasn’t a question.

His cock stayed buried inside me but his thumb was quickly replaced by two fingers nudging at the muscles. I gripped the bedding. Could I handle this?

“You’re doing good. So good,” he said and I took a breath at the same time as the thrusts increased in pace.

He waited just a second before he began to rock his fingers and cock in and out of me. It was too much, too good, too full.

Pinned to the bed by the sensation, I couldn’t move. I was exhausted but my orgasm wasn’t far away. It was almost as if I were having hundreds of tiny climaxes that were building and building into something—I didn’t know what.

Ryder’s thrusts jolted into me and I knew he was close. His movements became less controlled, his voice tighter and louder.

“So tight. So smooth. So good,” he growled.

My body began to clench as my climax took over and Ryder cried out, folding over my back, his breath hot on my neck as we came together, floating, grasping. Joined. I’d never felt so much like an us.





Twenty-Four





Scarlett


“So dinner on Tuesday?” Violet asked from the other end of the phone. I had her on speaker as I scanned my emails that had built up during my morning full of meetings about Cecily Fragrance’s new store opening in Southampton. “I’m not taking no for an answer. I don’t see you enough.”

I thought back. In the three months since Ryder and I had returned from England, I hadn’t really gone out with my friends. And I couldn’t remember him ever going out with his friends without me. Ryder and I liked hanging out together.

“Sure. Come over and I’ll cook,” I replied and she groaned. I stopped what I was doing and stared at the receiver. What was her problem?

“You’re so boring. I was going to get Harper to come out and Grace, too. I thought we could have a few shots and a little fun. I’ve been over to your place every time I’ve seen you for months.”

“Sorry, I’ve just been so busy at work; it’s just nice to be at home in the evenings.”

Home. After my night in the guest room, he’d dismantled the bed. He’d never made me feel like I was a guest. When I’d mentioned his couch was too hard, we’d gone shopping for a new one that weekend. I don’t think he even noticed when I rearranged his kitchen and he told me how much he liked the flowers I bought each week. There was never a moment I felt awkward or uncomfortable there.

Violet sighed. “Maybe if you weren’t up fucking all night, you could manage a night out with your sister. Even Harper was saying she missed you.”

Maybe I had been neglecting my family in favor of my husband. “I’m not up all night fucking.” Just part of the night. Every night. And mornings, too. When it was as good as it was between Ryder and me, why wouldn’t we want to spend our time together? It felt real—a relationship, a friendship, a partnership. And I resolved that while it did, I’d go with it. “There’s just a lot going on in the business. But a girls’ night sounds good.” I could always get home before Ryder went to bed. That way, I’d still see him, even if it was for a short while.

“Great. I’ll speak to Harper and Grace. I need a bit of bonding time without men.”

“Well, I’m always up for girl time. You know that.”

“You could have fooled me,” she said. “But I’ll set something up. There’s a great new hipster place in the East Village we should try.”

I groaned. “You know that the three of us are hardly the hipster type.”

“And I keep telling you, you need to expand your horizons. You never know, we might find your next husband there.”

Next husband? “You make it sound like I’m a praying mantis.”

Her tut echoed down the phone. “I just mean that when your thing with Ryder is over, you might want to change things up a bit. A hipster’s an option.”

It had been three months, and I’d promised Ryder three years. Violet was jumping the gun, but I wasn’t about to rain on her parade. “I’m not sure hipsters will ever be my type, even if I’m on my ninth husband, but it’s not me you’ll have to convince. I’m pretty sure Harper will want to go to somewhere uber-glam.” Frankly, if I was going to spend the evening without Ryder, I wanted to make sure it was somewhere nice, but I’d let Harper take the fall for this one. I knew she’d be happy to.

“Well, it’s my party, so I’m picking the place. Does Tuesday work?”

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