Sinful Desire

“I have never wanted to fuck you so much,” he said in a growl.

“Take me, wreck me. You can’t ruin me. You can control me all you want. You won’t break me. I’ll still be here,” she said, knowing it was what he needed, and what she wanted, too.

*

He slid into her without mercy.

She moaned the second his cock made contact with her heat.

Then he took over for her hands. He gripped the pool cue and clasped his fingers through hers, pinning her with the wood and his weight.

With her restrained like that, flat on her back on his pool table, he fucked her harder and rougher than he ever had before. He didn’t hold back as he held her captive. He slammed into her hot * over and over, his beautiful woman writhing and moaning, panting and screaming, and completely and utterly giving herself to him.

Arching up. Meeting him. Inviting him deeper.

His body jolted with each thrust, his heart pumping hard and wild, and this—this pleasure, this harsh fucking wasn’t just control for him. It was a relinquishment, too. He might be restraining her, but in doing so he’d revealed his hand. He’d shown her his cards. They were all for her, every single one turned up Sophie.

“It’s you,” he groaned, and she locked eyes with him, her gaze holding him tight, sending him to another plane of pleasure—one ruled by more than the physical. By the intensity of how he felt for her. By all the love that he saw in her eyes. “It’s all you. I fucking love you so much,” he said as he took her.

“It’s the same for me, Ryan.” Her breathing turned ragged, and her words drove him on. The tension in him rose higher in a fury of passion and love, in a storm of mind-blowing pleasure that spiked in him. Because of how he felt for her, heart, soul, mind and body. He didn’t look away. He simply couldn’t. His eyes were fixed on her the whole time as he took her deeper. Her moans and groans and cries were the sexiest song he’d ever heard, the scent of her skin and the smell of her lust were intoxicating, and the hot, tight grip of her body sent him into a red-hot, fevered frenzy.

He’d never been more turned on, he’d never been harder, and he’d never wanted to come so intensely.

But there was so much more at play than pure desire.

He’d never loved someone like this. He needed more closeness. More connection. No barriers. Nothing but skin and hands and limbs tangled together.

He let go of the stick, then uncurled her fingers from the cue and yanked it away, letting the wood clatter loudly to the floor. “Just you and me,” he said. “Just you and me.”

Instantly, she raised up and flung her arms around him, clutching his back, digging her nails in, and God, fuck, hell, it was unearthly; it was heaven on earth. His arms snaked around her, and he gripped her, pulling her, yanking her, bringing her as close as she could be. On the edge of the pool table their bodies coiled together like flames, consuming each other with wildfire.

He breathed her name, over and over, like a fucking mantra—the woman he adored.

She cried out, shuddering beneath him as she hit the edge, her glorious sounds the key in the ignition that set him off.

The tension inside of him snapped, and he came hard.

They collapsed in a landslide of pants and moans, of groans and grunts.

And also, something else.

Something that felt like peace in her arms, as he gave himself up to whatever this was with Sophie, because it felt as if it had the potential to be the rest of his life.

“Sophie,” he murmured in her ear, as she sighed happily and ran her fingers down his sweat-streaked back. “The way I feel for you is beyond control. And I don’t want that to change.”

Everything else was shifting. Everything else was cracking. She was his one constant.

*

She didn’t wake up as he went for a run with his dog. Nor as he showered. And not as he brewed a pot of coffee. She didn’t wake up, either, when Johnny Cash barked happily as Ryan let him take a quick post-run dip in the pool. And she barely rustled as he leaned over her, brushing a soft curl from her sweet, sleepy face to kiss her goodbye.

She murmured something then shifted and yawned.

“Hey, beautiful. I need to go,” he said, and kissed her cheek.

She stretched her arms over her head. “I better get out of here then, since you’re leaving.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Stay. Sleep. You like your morning sleep.”

She smiled and her eyes floated closed again. “I do like my sleep. I need to finish packing for Germany though.”

“Is that today?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, snuggling under the covers.

He patted the bed, and his dog jumped up. “Johnny Cash, you keep Sophie company ’til she wakes up and is ready to leave. Tell her to let you out in the yard once before she heads home.”

The dog panted his agreement, and Sophie laughed.

“Call me when you’re ready to go. I’ll send a car or driver or Uber or chariot or horse.”