I’m falling in love with him.
Part of me is desperate to stop myself. I mustn’t love someone. Mustn’t let anyone close enough to find the old me. Another part of me wants to let myself go and free-fall into the unknown. Except it won’t be the unknown. And that’s one of the things I admire most about Ryan Willis. He is who he is, no apologies. He has nothing to prove, no one to impress. Take him or leave him, this is who he is. Can I take him? Can I truly have him and all his wonderfulness?
Ryan must sense my further turmoil, because he’s suddenly moving, albeit lazily, driving in and out of me with an almost cruel flow. My woes are forgotten—a tactical move on his part, I’m sure—and I loosen my legs a little, giving him space to indulge me. I wrap one hand around his neck, using it as an anchor to follow his drives, and hold his biceps with the other, feeling his muscles roll. His face is a foot away, but his breathing still warms my cheeks, and I get the perfect view of his handsome ruggedness, every bit of his pleasure there for me to see. His expression is strained, his stare concentrated with dizzying intensity.
The water splashes up our bodies, our pace becomes a little more hectic, and his hands move to my hips, lifting me and bringing me back down onto him. The build of my climax comes fast, and I fight with it, trying to push it back, not ready for this to be finished just yet. “No,” I grate, hauling myself forward. Our fronts collide, and I grab his hair at the temples, holding tightly. “Slowly,” I order, giving him a purposely soft kiss. He accepts easily, panting around it. “I don’t want this to end yet.”
Pulling away abruptly, Ryan slides one of his hands up my back to my nape and grips hard. Possessively. “This never ends, Hannah,” he whispers, driving forward with purpose.
Does that say everything I need to hear? Or everything I don’t need to hear? “Everything ends,” I counter softly, my mouth working before my brain. His response to that is another hard pound, and I whimper, trying to fall forward onto him for support. He doesn’t let me, tightening his grip of my neck to keep me where he wants me.
“This,” he grates, gliding out slowly, ensuring I feel the throb of blood in his veins, “never”—he pauses, his lovely face twisting as he drives forward with power—“ends.” He chokes, and I scream, our bodies crashing together. I get no more breathing space, no time between each drive to control my pleasure. Now Ryan owns it, I’m his to control, and I let go, surrendering to the formidable power. Surrendering to him.
Though commanding, his strikes are controlled; he knows exactly what he’s doing, and with each pound into me, I lose myself more and more until I’m certain I’ve passed into another world—a world where only he and I exist.
“Let me kiss you,” I gasp, desperate to touch him everywhere possible, hauling myself forward.
“Let me see you,” he counters, forcing me back and hitting me with an unforgivingly mind-bending grind. As we maintain our deep connection, flowing in and out of each other, releasing moan after moan, our lovemaking precise and exact, I comprehend that Ryan doesn’t want to actually see me. He’s telling me something. I slowly move in and kiss him, and this time he doesn’t stop me. With our mouths working each other’s slowly, our tongues twisting carefully, our hands in each other’s hair, we climb together to the point we’re both shaking violently, the water rippling and swishing around us.
The pressure becomes unbearable, the sizzling heat in my blood out of control. “Ryan,” I wheeze, and he nods, telling me he’s with me. Our kiss deepens. Our bodies tighten. Ryan loses all control first, his fingers in my damp hair constricting, his open mouth moving to my cheek and resting there as he fights for breath, his body jerking madly. All these effects in him shove me over the edge, and I lock up against him, trying to stem the intensity. My mind is spinning, the pleasure dizzying, my orgasm raging on and on and on. My lungs feel like they’ve been squeezed dry, my body drained. It’s like a chemical reaction inside me, two volatile elements being mixed together and reacting fiercely to each other.
I sag against Ryan’s wet chest, replete and dazed, clinging to him with what little strength I have left. My eyes close, and I feel him move through the water slowly, his breathing still labored, and when he reaches the shore, he drops to his knees and lays me on my back, coming down on top of me. He gently kisses my cheek. His arms cage my head. His face falls into my neck.
Ryan wants me. Just the way I am.
He’s filling the empty spaces inside me. And I can’t help letting him. I can’t help admiring him more every day. This is the man I was always supposed to be with.
And now I fear I’ve found him too late.
Chapter Sixteen
RYAN
Raspberries.
It’s new on my list of favorite smells. The woods, the water, the fresh air. And now raspberries, too. She smells so good. Feels so good. I’m sure she looks good, too, but I’ll be damned if I can raise my depleted body to look at her. So I concentrate on feeling and smelling, my skin on her skin, breathing her into me like she’s life.
Her presence has woken something in me that I never knew was sleeping. It’s something exhilarating yet fear provoking. Because despite seeing the merciless wildness in her eyes, I can now see something else, too.
A lingering emptiness she’s trying to mask.
She’s hiding something from me. Keeping me close but distant. But will I push Hannah away if I demand answers? Can I risk that? This exquisite, sweet woman in my arms, no matter how peaceful she is in this moment, is carrying too much pain. I hope she finds it in herself to share her secrets with me. And I hope she lets me ease that pain. Maybe I already am.
I feel Hannah move beneath me, and I shift to give her space, grudgingly giving up my place in her neck to peek down at her. The moment our skin separates, I feel the cold.
“We should get back to the cabin.” I want her in my bed and cuddled into my side. I want her warm and safe.
“Are you going to throw me out in the morning?” she asks as I help her up, her face a picture of innocence.
“Depends if you hog the entire bed again,” I reply, my gaze dragging down her naked front. I smile at her hard nipples, and she tuts, taking her palms to cover them. What’s she doing? I smack down her hands and turn her away from me, reaching under her armpits and cupping her boobs. “Walk,” I say into her shoulder, nudging her onward.
“My dress.”
“We don’t need your dress.” We only need skin.
Hannah’s arms reach back and hold my waist as we make our way through the overgrowth back to the cabin. It’s pitch black now, but the lack of light doesn’t hamper me. I know these woods too well.
I only release Hannah once we’re inside. I throw a few logs into the fireplace, light them, and pull a blanket off the couch. “Cozy enough?” I ask when I’ve finished wrapping her up in it.
With a demure smile, she opens the blanket and steps into me, wrapping me up with her. “Yes.” Her cheek hits my chest and she sighs.
“So we’re just going to stand here all night?”
She nods, and I laugh, detaching her arms from around my back. “Go sit by the fire and warm up.” I turn her by her shoulders and send her on her way, and she traipses to the fire and lowers to the rug before it.
I head across to the kitchen and pull the fridge open, grabbing two beers and cracking the caps off, swigging mine as I head back to Hannah. Lowering to the rug, I pass Hannah hers and knock her bottle with mine. I get comfortable, leaning back against the sofa and lifting my arm. She crawls into me with a satisfactory easiness, snuggling close. But not close enough. So I haul her in, squeezing her to my side.
“I could get used to this,” she says quietly, taking some beer and resting the bottle on my exposed thigh.
“I’d love it if you did,” I answer, prompting her to look up at me a little surprised.
“You mean that?” she asks.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” I tell her. “I hope you don’t, either
.”
She’s quickly buried back into my side, avoiding my eyes, and that’s the worst thing she could have done. Hide. Something tells me she’s good at hiding. I stare down at the back of her head, my mind whirling. Gently does it, Ryan. I lift my beer to my lips, sipping some back and swallowing as I return my eyes to the crackling flames in the fire.
“That’s not very reassuring,” I muse quietly, immediately feeling her body harden against me. And neither is that. I see her in my peripheral vision take a sip of her own beer. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s occupying her mouth so she doesn’t have to speak. Or filling it to stop from saying something she might regret. I’m a big boy. Whatever it is, I can take it.
My inhale is deep, meant to be heard, a clue that I’m about to speak. I set my bottle down by my thigh and reach for Hannah’s, having to tug it from her grasp when she puts up some resistance. I place it next to mine and move in on her, pulling the blanket away, exposing her nakedness to me, but I disregard the endless expanse of creamy, inviting flesh and arrange her body as I hover over her. I lay her down, place her arms by her sides one after the other, and push her thighs apart before lifting myself onto her, gritting my teeth when my dick settles on her lower stomach. I take a much-needed moment to fight the compulsion to have her again. Then I lift my head and look at her. Lust is what greets me. Pure, penetrating lust. Fuck.
I’m helpless when Hannah lunges upward, attacking me with hungry lips, and for a brief moment of weakness I succumb to her demand.
No.
I wrench myself away, my breathing shot, and close my eyes as I work hard to talk some sense and resistance into myself. “No,” I say calmly, and she moves, rubbing into me, taking that calm back to unbalanced. God damn her. Opening my eyes, I nail a warning stare on her. It doesn’t have the desired effect. She lunges for me again, but this time I move back, escaping her, and she drops to her back on an exasperated gasp. She’s exasperated?
I tilt my head.
Hannah narrows her eyes.
I quirk an eyebrow.
Hannah’s lip curls.
And we stare. I won’t break. Something tells me she won’t, either. I’d best get comfortable. So I snuggle on down, taking her wrists and pinning them to either side of her head. She growls. It’s fucking bliss. Her head jerks up again, trying to catch my lips, but she’s not fast enough. I keep my face straight as she settles again, eventually closing her eyes and relaxing. I reward her with a gentle peck on her neck. “Hannah,” I whisper across her skin, feeling her pulse quicken under my lips.
“What?” she replies throatily.
“If you ever wanted to share something with me, I would listen.” I kiss my way to her jaw, and she closes her eyes, her body trying to arch. “I wouldn’t judge.” I make it to her nose, kissing the tiny bump. “And it would make no difference to how I feel about you.” I reach her eyes and kiss each closed lid before pecking my way to her cheek.
She moans, the sound so sweet, and turns her face into me, finding my mouth without needing to open her eyes. I let her at me, giving a little, hoping to take more. “I’ll remember that,” she says, her voice rough. “If I ever want to share something with you.”
For fuck’s sake. I breathe out my impatience, letting my head fall limply back into her neck. I’m surprised when I feel her hand cup the back of my head, holding me to her. It’s as if she’s trying to comfort me while I deal with defeat. I love the gesture but hate the possible trigger. She’s a closed book. Will she ever let me in?
“What’s the matter?” Hannah asks, sounding sincerely muddled by my frustration. I’m astounded. Is she being ignorant? Or is she being strategic? Or am I being paranoid? Reading too much into this? God damn, is my sixth sense failing me? Do I have this all wrong? Propping myself up on my forearms, I rest my chin on her tummy. “I saw you in Grange this morning,” I say, watching to gauge her reaction. Her face remains straight and her body remains soft.
“And?” she asks.
“And…what were you doing there?”
“Buying flowers for my mother.”
A breakthrough. She has a mother. “Why from Grange? The town store sells flowers.”
“Have you seen them?” Hannah laughs. I can’t argue with that. The selection isn’t exactly wide, and unless you buy them on the day of the weekly delivery, they’re not going to last very long.
Moving on. “Where’s your mother?”
“She died.”
I wince and kick my sorry arse all over the cabin. “I’m sorry.”
Her smile is small, but not without emotion. “Why? It’s not your fault.”
I suddenly feel like a prize chump. I’m not only sorry for her loss, I’m sorry for prying, too. For pressing. For being like a dog with a bone. “You want some Chunky Monkey?”
Her hands land on my arse, her fingernails digging in. “If you’ve finished wringing me for information, then I’d love some.”
“Mockery won’t get you anything except—”
“What?”
I look down at her exposed breasts. Smirk. Lick my lips. And dip quickly, taking a bite.
“Ouch!” she shrieks, kicking out her legs and smacking at my back. “Bloody hell!”
I suck her nipple hard, swirl my tongue a few times, have another nibble, and eventually release it with a satisfactory pop. She immediately gives me a good whack on the arm. I chuckle like an idiot and jump to my feet, leaving Hannah to rub some life back into her breast.
“Ryan,” she calls, stalling me at the freezer. I look back as I pull open the door. She’s on her front now, and that arse is looking mighty tasty, too.
“Yeah?” I say, blindly reaching for the ice cream, my stare glued to her peachy bottom.
“This is me,” she replies, rising to her feet, taking the vision of her arse from me. Not that it matters. Now I have her face. And those words. Motioning down her naked form, prompting my eyes to follow, as if I need a reminder of her perfection, Hannah repeats herself, this time clearer, louder, and with a firmness in her voice that I’ve never heard before. “This is me, Ryan. There is nothing else for me to give you, just this. Isn’t it enough?”
I find myself smiling almost immediately, her message received loud and clear. It is more than enough. I stalk forward, determined not to waste any more of our night playing silly mind games. I seize her with one arm, hauling her body close to mine. “This is enough. You are more than enough. And for the record, I wouldn’t change one tiny thing about you.”
Her smile blows my world in two.
God, this woman. Whatever’s hurt her in the past is gone. I’m here. In her present. Right now, it’s me and her and an empty cabin. I need to make the most of it. “How d’you feel about ice stimulation?” I ask.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is it?”
“I made it up.” I grin wickedly and rest the tub of ice cream on her back, firming up my hold of her, ready for it.
Her eyes widen, her boobs thrusting forward as she bends her back to try to escape the cold. “Oh my God,” she says on an inhale. “Ryan!”
I laugh, thoroughly amused with myself, and pace to the bedroom, keeping the tub exactly where it is. She bucks and yells the whole way, thumping my shoulders with deranged fists. “You arse!”
“Behave,” I order, tossing her onto the bed and quickly following her down, trapping her before she has the chance to gather her bearings and escape. Sitting on her upper thighs, I pin her arms under my knees and hold up the tub of ice cream, smiling down at her persistent wiggling. “Well, well, well,” I muse, and she stills, panting hard. “Seems you’re at my mercy.” I sit the tub just shy of her chest, watching as it dips when she sucks in air.
“Ryan.”
“Ryan, what?” I ask, taking a spoonful and slipping it into my mouth, rolling it around. “Stop?” I slowly bend, lowering toward her breast. “Don’t stop?” She surprises me when she wrenches an arm free, but I quickly seize it and
slam it down to the bed, continuing my descent, wrapping my mouth around her nipple and letting the ice cream coat it.
“You bastard,” she breathes, but that breath quickly turns into a moan when I slather her boob with my hot mouth, dousing down the cold. “Ohhhhh.”
That’s more like it. Surrender. I release her hand when she fights with me, knowing she’s past wanting to inflict pain. She needs something to hold on to, and I happily volunteer my hair, leading her hand there. I wince with her first yank and return the favor by clamping down on her nipple, tugging threateningly, pulling a long, drawn-out hiss from her. “Stop?” I ask, taking more ice cream and moving to her other boob. “Don’t stop?”
She forces my face onto her chest, and I feast on her, wondering if Chunky Monkey has ever tasted so good. She writhes, arches, throws her head back, and each lap of my tongue seems to send her crazier and crazier, her hands yanking at my hair viciously. Tell me this isn’t fucking heaven. Tell me there’s a place I’d rather be.
“You. Taste. Incredible,” I mumble, dipping my hand in for more ice cream and scooping out a huge blob. I slap it on her other boob and massage it in while I devour the other. I’m in my element. Then suddenly…not.
“Ryan!” Hannah yelps. “Ryan, stop!” Her panicked voice snaps me from my euphoria in a split second, and I scramble up, knocking the tub of ice cream onto the bed.
“Shit, what?” I ask, my frantic eyes scanning her, searching for what the problem is. She winces, pain invading her face, and doesn’t that just rocket my worry. “Fucking hell, Hannah, tell me what’s wrong.” I faff at her with my hands, not sure what to do, where to touch, how to help.
“Just give me a moment,” she wheezes, trying to sit up. I rush to help, easing her up carefully, searching for more signs of discomfort. This horrible pain inside me—it’s fear, I think. I’ve never felt anything like it. I feel helpless. Useless. All I can do is wait for her to enlighten me as to what’s wrong. So I sit and wait, seeming patient, but feeling anything but.
Leave Me Breathless Page 20
