Maybe it was time she had some ideas of her own.
Maybe it was time for her to try.
Pushing down the hurt, hard place he’d made inside of her when he’d let her down, she dropped her gaze to his mouth. They were still all but naked here, and while her arousal had waned, the vision of him lying there, opening himself up to her, had the low simmer of need in her abdomen expanding.
She put her hands on his shoulders. And then she leaned in.
He parted for her without a moment’s hesitation, meeting her kiss with firm, eager lips, slipping his tongue against hers in a soft caress. She kneaded her fingers into hard muscle and stroked her thumbs across his collarbones.
“Together?” The question came out shaky against his mouth.
“Absolutely.”
And it was strange, being on top of him like this. She’d tried it before with Aaron, once or twice, but she’d always been too self-conscious, too aware of the way her belly looked. Was she moving too fast? Too slow? After a while, he’d usually ended up flipping them around so he could move the way he liked.
But Rylan cradled her close, his hands moving to span her back, sweeping wide arcs over the skin there, over the lace of her bra and down toward her rear.
“Do you want?” She trailed a finger down his chest to tease beneath the waistband of his boxers.
“Soon enough.” He caught her hand in his and set it flush to the smoothness of his abdominals. “When you want. You just touching me is—” He sucked in a breath as she teased a hint of nails beside his navel. “It feels amazing.”
He pulled her back down into his kiss then. There was a sweetness to the way he held her, open and accepting. It gave her the freedom to enjoy this, to get a little lost in the glide of his tongue and the heat of his mouth.
The whole night long, she’d been shivering. Now all she could feel was warm.
“Perfect,” he said, brushing fingertips over her spine. He folded his hand around her hip, and it softened her bones.
She shifted, edging her knees farther apart.
The first glancing touch of her body against the hard line of him had a flash of want zinging to her sex, to the points of her breasts, and he moaned aloud against her mouth.
“That feels so good.” He nudged his hips up into hers but didn’t try to move her. Didn’t ask her to grind harder.
But she wanted to.
Could it really be that simple? She pressed her hips down with more force, lining the base of him up against her clit, and her skin flushed hot, went too tight all over.
“That’s it. Doesn’t that feel nice?” He slipped his fingers over the curve of her breast. Dipped inside the cup to stroke at her nipple, and she exhaled hard against his lungs.
“Nice?” she asked, shuddering, disbelieving. It was so much more than nice.
He shhed her and delved in deeper. Without slowing the rocking of her hips, she reached to flick her bra clasp open. Her breasts spilled out, the straps sliding down her shoulders, and his hands were there, helping her shrug the thing off. When she resettled over him, her nipples grazed his chest with every motion of her body, hot licks of pleasure revving it all up higher, better.
“Baby.” He groaned, tearing himself from her lips and baring his throat. His cock jumped against her clit, and oh, damn. Had she pushed him too far, just like this? She eased up, but he pulled her back down. Shook his head and opened his eyes. “Don’t stop. Please.”
But she did.
She could grind them and grind them, get them both off like that. An emptiness yawned inside her, though. She’d been so afraid of sex for so long. Had kept them to everything-but for ages their first time around, but he’d been so good to her, so patient. She knew when her body was ready for it now. And he had told her to tell him what she wanted…
Over the sound of his pained gasp, she lifted her hips off him entirely, tremoring at the sudden lack of pressure, the missing contact. But no. No.
She leaned over. Got her nightstand open.
The box of condoms was unopened. She tore at it, fumbling when the cardboard separated but didn’t give, swore when she nicked her finger sliding it under the flap. But eventually she managed. She tore off a single square.
Then with her free hand, she cupped the long line of him through his boxers.
He bit off a curse and seized her by the wrists, stopping her stroking and closing her fingers tighter around the condom. “You still don’t have to.”
“I know.” She swallowed down the wetness in her mouth. “But I want to.” For an instant, she faltered. “Don’t you?”
“Kate.” His voice dropped, going gravelly and low. And there was no mistaking that tone. That fevered gleam in his eyes.
Triumph replaced doubt. She twisted free of his grip. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
She kissed him again, soaking it in when he bit at her lip, swallowed the choked, perfect groans he made as she lowered his boxers from his hips. He kicked them the rest of the way off, stifling himself against her mouth. She got her hand around the thickness of his shaft, slid her thumb across the slickness at the tip.
His fingers running up the length of her slit still took her by surprise, though.
“You sure you’re ready for me? Sure you’re wet enough?”
He had his hand on her. Couldn’t he tell she was soaked through? “What do you think?” she asked.
He edged in under the hem of her panties, and that wasn’t going to do. She let go of him in favor of getting naked.
And then she was on top of him, completely bare, legs spread wide across his thighs. The world went sideways for a moment.
Who would’ve ever thought she’d end up here?
His fingertips brushing slick flesh brought her back to herself. She dropped her head against his chest as he probed all around her opening, dipping just inside. Spreading her wetness around. The tease of fullness without the follow-through drove her need even higher, and she rose back up.
She tore the condom open and rolled the latex over him. Batted his hand away. “Believe me. I’m ready.”
She had reason to doubt it, though, as she lowered herself onto him. God, he was huge, and she was keyed up as hell, but she hadn’t let him make her come first. The stretch pulled a broken sound from her, and then there was his hand at her hip, slowing her descent.
His jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck standing out, like this was nothing but restraint for him. He eased her up a fraction, almost off him.
This time, when she sank down, it was easier, and they groaned as one. Bracing herself, she worked back and forth, taking more and more of him with each stroke, and—
And there it was. The fullness, the connection.
She’d been so damned afraid of letting herself connect with him. She still was. But if she wasn’t willing to meet him partway, then what hope did they have?
This time, when her hips met his, she didn’t avoid his gaze. Pressing her brow to his, she let him see her.
Then ever so slowly, she started to move. Pleasure sparked outward from every point of contact, a deep mass of heat within her. Every few strokes, her clit pressed hard against the ridge of his body where they joined, and she shifted. Got her lips to the point of his jaw, to his throat, fighting to focus.
“Here.” He curled a hot, broad palm around her hips, dragging her down so he was fully seated, so that perfect pressure made the heat bloom, throwing sparks. “Do what feels good to you.” He kept her there, just there, helping her rock back and forth. A new depth of pleasure opened up inside her, but she couldn’t chase it. Couldn’t quite let go that far.
“But—”
“It all feels good to me.” He groaned, grinding upward. Deep within, he throbbed, his fingers tightening at her hip. “I promise.”
She closed her eyes. God, it couldn’t really be this easy, could it?
“Does it?” he asked. “Does it feel good?”
“It feels amazing.”
“Then take it.” He hauled her mouth to his, sweeping her up in a kiss that was all teeth and tongues, slickness and heat. “Take everything you need.”
She lost herself in the push and pull. For everything she took, he only seemed prepared to offer more, and before she knew it, the heat rose to the point she couldn’t bear, his cock a perfect fullness inside her, his body this warm solidity beneath her. He palmed her breast, bit at her lip even harder. Slipped a hand in between them, and it was something sharper to grind against, a bright point of pleasure and—
“Make yourself come, baby.” His muscles strained, his kiss going sloppy. “Come all around me. Let me feel it when you—”
All at once, it crested over. Her body pulsed around his, blackness like liquid exploding outward. Like completion. Like connection.
She rode it all the way to the end. Opened her eyes in a haze to find him gazing up at her as if she were the best, most incredible thing he’d ever seen. Inside, he was still so hard.
“But you—”
There was this lost part of her that half expected to get flipped over and pounded into. She’d gotten hers, which was more than she could usually say. He’d given her so much pleasure—had showed her how to take it, and for that she’d be more than willing.
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Do you think you can come again?”
Oh, hell, she didn’t know. “You have to be dying…”
“Only a little.” He smiled. A real smile.
She kissed it from his lips, and it tasted like desire and these echoes of love, ones she’d been denying for so long now. But there they were. With their mouths tangled, sharing air and pleasure and this chance to experience it together, she braced her arms and shifted her hips.
A half dozen long, aching strokes where she nearly lifted off him before slamming down. He panted against her lips, body straining, and a new coil of possibility unfurled within her. She took him deep and ground down, and it was almost too soon, but there was that spark, that heat.
“Fuck, yes.” He teased a thumb at the top of her slit again, an offer to touch her, to help her.
She shook her head, watching the ecstasy play out across his features. Feeling it build inside her depths.
And suddenly, she got it. How he could spend so much time making her feel good, because giving this to him while also having it for herself…
It was new. It was amazing.
Finally, the shaking in his abdomen hit a fever pitch, his moans as pained as pleasured. The way he gripped her shifted from holding her to just barely hanging on.
She roared inside.
Lowering herself down, she put her lips to his ear. “Come on, gorgeous.”
“Fuck, Kate. Keep going.”
“Come on.” Power made the second wave brush all that much closer to shore. “Let me feel you come.” She swallowed hard. “Inside me.”
His hands turned to iron, a rough grip. And she wasn’t the only one with power here. He bucked up into her, once and twice, and on the third, his whole body seized up. With a cry of her name, he turned his face into her throat. Bit hard enough to bruise.
As he emptied into her, she got her own hand on her clit. Bore down on him until the precipice lay just beneath her feet.
She fell. Again. Into orgasm and into him, and there was further to fall. So much further. Into love and into heartbreak, and her battered heart itself was a chasm. It beat a pang within her chest, threatening to suck her down, down, down.
Before she could hit bottom, she clawed out, opened her eyes, and dug her fingers hard into the mattress. She caught herself.
She might be willing to meet him halfway. But there were still some places she wasn’t ready to land.
They lay there afterward, tangled up and naked, the covers drawn up to their waists against the chill. Rylan rested on his back, while Kate curled up beside him, pillowing her head on his chest. She hadn’t tried to escape or go get dressed again right away, so he was counting it as a win. Then again, she wasn’t exactly looking at him, either. Or volunteering anything.
He flexed his jaw, fingertips stuttering against the bare skin of her shoulder. “Next time, you should pick.”
“Pick?”
“Where we go. What we do.”
This was their second of their seven nights, and they’d made some progress. He’d meant what he said, though. He needed her to want this, too, to have some sort of stake in what they were building. What he hoped they were trying to build.
Chuckling, the sound uncomfortable and thin, she drew her arm in closer to her body. “I don’t exactly know a lot of fancy restaurants.”
“So? Didn’t we both agree that tonight was a disaster?”
“It ended pretty well.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong. Spent as it was, his cock gave a hint of a twitch. “True. But I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes again.”
Surely, there was a way to get to that end, to the two of them sharing each other’s bodies with that kind of freedom. One that didn’t involve pushing through so much heartache on the way.
She shrugged. “It wasn’t a mistake to try to show me what life is like for you.”
“But my life isn’t like that.” It had been a mockery.
A botched, man-made catastrophe of what he’d hoped would be a fantasy.
Her brows furrowed. “I thought that was the whole point of it. You were going to show me ‘your New York.’”
“And that’s what I should have done. But instead I tried to impress you. And I did it all wrong.” He took a deep breath. “So I’m asking you to do it right. I want to know what your life is like. Your New York.” He wasn’t explaining this the way he wanted to. “What do you do for fun? What’s your ideal Saturday night?”
Frowning, she shook her head. “I don’t think you’d be all that impressed by it.”
“Try me. Let me decide.”
She didn’t seem satisfied, but she didn’t argue with him anymore. She glanced up, challenge written across her eyes. “If I do, then how about the one after that? Do we get to try your life again?”
Swallowing, he nodded. “If that’s what you really want.”
Her hand inched its way across the bed. When her knuckles stroked his palm, the tightness in his chest eased. “I think I do.” A smile flirted with the corner of her lips. “After all, it can’t be too much worse than tonight was.”
He rolled his eyes and clasped his hand to his heart as if she’d wounded him. “Rub it in, why don’t you?”
And this felt good, the flirtation and the teasing.
After a moment, though, her gaze went serious again. She rearranged herself so she was facing him more, lying on her side and braced on one elbow. “So that isn’t all there is to a mogul’s life? Five-star restaurants and fancy clothes?”
She said it offhandedly, but the question that lay underneath was anything but a joke.
“Honestly? My life’s mostly been a combination of couch surfing at my sister’s place and schmoozing with the boring old men who’ve been running my father’s company.”
He and Lexie had been running full steam ahead with their plan to shore up their position with the senior execs and the board. Rylan still needed to find his balance there, but it was good to be doing something again.
Of course, Kate passed that part of his statement by entirely. “Your sister’s really making you sleep on her couch?”
“Fine. Less couch surfing and more staying in her guest room. Same idea.” Same feeling of being without roots. Living with Lexie was like living in his parents’ house, all his mother’s breeziness combined with his father’s guilt trips about why he wasn’t at work. He sighed. “It’s getting old.”
“Doesn’t sound that terrible.”
“You’ve never met my sister. She’s exhausting.” He stretched his arms above his head. “Wonderful, but exhausting. And her décor is abominable.”
Kate seemed to choose her next words carefully. “Have y
ou given any thought to figuring out something more permanent?” Her voice rose by a fraction. “I feel bad sending you back there if you’re that unhappy with it.”
Oh. A scattershot pain squeezed down on his ribs. So that was her angle in this. She still didn’t want him to spend the night.
“I haven’t really.” He shifted the covers off, uncertain how to hide his disappointment while staying so close. Rising, he grabbed his boxers off the ground.
“It might be worth starting to poke around.”
“Sure.” The word came out too harsh, the edge seeping in without his meaning for it to. Dismissive and rude, but how else was he supposed to react?
He wasn’t a fool. He hadn’t expected Kate to invite him to move in with her that first night, and he sure as hell hadn’t been expecting it tonight. But he’d thought maybe, someday…
So, no, he hadn’t considered more permanent accommodations. Because when he thought about permanency…
He thought about her.
“It’s just…” Kate watched him as he stepped into his pants. “You said you were done running. I thought, if you were going to stay in town…” She twisted the sheets in her hands. “I’m sure your sister’s apartment is nice, but it isn’t yours.”
He laughed. “That would be a profound understatement.”
“There’s something about having a place to call home. That’s all.”
It was like she could see into his heart. To the emptiness there.
Home. It was a concept he’d thought about so many times as he’d made his way across the Atlantic. But he hadn’t found it yet. Not here, and not at his sister’s penthouse.
Maybe Kate was right. Maybe he needed a space of his own.
As he collected and tugged on the rest of his clothes, Kate moved more toward the center of the bed, gathering the covers around her. Fidgeting with her nails. “You taking off already?”
“I think so.” At the look of relief on her face, his heart panged. He glanced away. “It’s getting late. Things to do and all.” He had a ceiling to stare at, for example. A company he wasn’t sure he wanted to run.
Eight Ways to Ecstasy Page 9
