‘I did not,’ she said, but her smirk had to speak for itself. ‘Why did you do all of this?’
‘I’m not going to propose if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘Phew,’ she said and took the flute of champagne that he poured for her. ‘I’m never going to live that down. I don’t get what the big deal is. If I had married the first guy who proposed to me I’d probably be living in a trailer park with six kids, who would all have different daddies, and I’d probably be a regular on Jerry Springer by now.’
‘Sounds like he was a keeper to me,’ Ruger said, putting down the champagne bottle when he’d poured his own flute. ‘I bet letting him get away keeps you up nights.’
‘Shut up,’ she said, making a face at him when he winked at her. ‘Just get on with it, will you?’
‘Bodes well for the night ahead,’ he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Holding his glass aloft, he waited for her to do the same.
‘To what?’ she asked.
‘To debts that should be repaid,’ he declared then stage whispered to her. ‘This room and the setup cost more than a grand, Legs. You’ll be working it off for months.’
‘Implying that my skills aren’t worth much,’ she said. ‘I said it wouldn’t fit in my throat. I said nothing about how hard I’d work to ensure satisfaction.’
‘Hmm,’ he said, swigging his champagne then taking her glass away to put both of them on the floor. ‘You are a tease, Legs.’
‘So if this was a real date,’ she said, leaning back when he swooped in for a kiss. ‘What would we be doing now?’
‘This is a real date,’ he said. ‘We dressed up, we ate dinner, what more do you want?’
She couldn’t ask for more effort on his part or for more romance, because he’d certainly set the scene. ‘Is there music?’
‘As a matter of fact,’ he said, rising, he went to the corner and opened a large entertainment cabinet to show that there was indeed a stereo. The CD unit appeared to be sealed, so whatever was in it was what they were stuck with.
Ruger pressed a few buttons and got the thing on and when it finally did spring to life, she was impressed at the slow, piano melody that was just right for the moment.
‘Can you turn the lights down?’ she asked when he started toward the bed again.
He stopped and glanced back at the light switch. ‘No, but…’ he switched on the floor lamp in the corner, which was operated by a dimmer knob by the bed, then he turned off the overhead light. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yes,’ she said. Her high-heels were hurting her feet, they were new and this was the first time she’d worn them. But with his height, she needed them to compensate. Standing up, she held out both of her hands and met him in the centre of the room. ‘You still haven’t danced with me.’
He didn’t make a joke. He just took her hands and guided them up to his shoulders then slid his own hands around her waist. ‘You’re right,’ he said as they moved together in the private space. ‘This is much better than getting you drunk and jumping you.’
‘You went to all the trouble of reserving the room,’ she said. ‘We should at least enjoy it.’
‘I booked the room because I wanted to be alone with you.’ He brought her hand onto his cheek so that he could kiss it. ‘There’s no pressure for there to be anything else… you know…’
‘Ruger, I told you about the guy who tried to get into my bed without permission, didn’t I? If I didn’t want to be here, if I didn’t want to be with you, then I wouldn’t be here. I’m not shy about saying no.’
Putting her hand back on his shoulder, he kissed her and encircled his arms around her to bring her head onto his shoulder. Glad that he hadn’t brought up the rejected marriage proposals again, Layla closed her eyes and lost herself in the seductive notes of the music and the sensual scent of this solid man who was holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
One song finished and another began, and still he held her close and swayed in their intimate slow dance that was proper despite their seclusion. Ruger was no sleaze. He didn’t try to hurry things along or grope at her ass. All he did was hold her and dance with her, just like she’d requested.
From their history, she knew he liked a woman to give him a clear signal before he proceeded with anything physical. Layla was happy to give him the greenlight, but she was a bit disappointed that he didn’t seduce with more vigour when he was clearly a man with confidence and he wasn’t hesitant in other areas of his life.
‘Ruger,’ she said.
‘Yeah, Legs?’
‘Do you want to make love to me?’
A warm laugh, so silent that she didn’t hear it, misted her hair. ‘Yeah, I do.’
‘So tell me,’ she said then lifted her head to meet his eye. ‘Or better yet, take me.’
The laughter faded away and in its place an intensity grew. The usually jovial Ruger ebbed and she got a real sense of the power this man could wield. It was true that someone of his stature could be intimidating, but she knew him too well to fear him.
‘You’re sure?’ he asked, bringing his hands to her face.
‘Very.’
‘Turn around,’ he said, his voice deeper than she’d heard it before.
The strength of his authority made her turn without thinking to refuse him. Sweeping her hair away from her back, he held it out of the way so that he could unzip her dress. Layla had wanted him to be more dominant and it seemed she had her wish because this wasn’t a sweet seduction. He didn’t kiss her from her clothes and segue into making love before she had a chance to notice what was happening.
When the zip was down, he pushed the fabric of her dress from her shoulders and let her hair fall so he could take hold of her and spin her around. Her underwear concealed her intimate parts, but that didn’t stop him from using his hold on her to force her back so he could get a better view. When he’d seen all he wanted, he reached around and unhooked her bra with one hand then stepped away with his focus on her chest.
It was her choice to drop her arms and let the bra fall away and he’d made that clear by removing himself from her. The hitch in his breath bolstered her confidence and the thrum of activity in her chest descended in a thick column of want that sank into her abdomen.
The odd part of her reaction to his deeds was that he didn’t touch her. This arousal, his seduction, came in the way that he looked at her, his utter concentration on her body. She felt important to him and in this moment she certainly was.
Just as she was about to ask when she would get to see him, he began to unbutton his shirt. Until about halfway down, he kept scrutinising her breasts, but that scrutiny moved up to her eyes in time with his shirt falling to the floor. On impulse, she lifted a foot to move toward him but he held up a finger and she paused.
‘Turn around and pull your panties down,’ he said.
Again, that gruff voice prompted her to do as she was told. His defined chest had provoked her arousal to pump into overdrive. Bending down to slide the satin of her panties to her ankles, Layla felt the slick natural lubricant of her body blossom.
The sound of her own swallow pulsed in her ears and when she’d taken the scrap of her panties away from the spike heel of her shoe, she dropped them and stood up, unsure if she should turn around again or not.
But Ruger answered that for her before she could ask. Again, he swept her hair away and this time he pushed it forward so that it hung over one of her breasts. Walking her forward, he pushed her hands to the column of the corner foot-post of the bed high above her head.
‘Keep them there,’ he commanded, his face lost in the swathes of her hair he was inhaling.
His hands came around her body. One went for her breast while he used the force of his caress to hold her spine to his chest where she could feel the thump of his own want in the rapid tattoo of his heart through their skin on skin contact.
He came lower, parting his thighs, he used their apex to i
mpel the colossus he’d first introduced her to in his mother’s house against her body.
‘Ruger—‘
‘Shh,’ he said. His lips breezed out of her hair to her unobstructed ear. ‘Say nothing.’
His whispered words tingled in her ear and fizzed to her neck when his breath prefaced his kiss against her carotid. The suggestion of his thoughts was emphasised by the smattering of kisses he treated her to. Wrapping his form around her, he kissed her throat and her collarbone, working her breasts and her nipples with one hand while the other held her own hands captive.
‘Stay there,’ he exhaled, still kissing her neck, the caress was enough to hold her immobile when his hand departed from hers. Its destination made her breathing uneven when he laid the length of his index finger along her Brazilian. Without time or thought for words, Layla let him angle her hips back, which forced her cleavage to the wood her hands were still splayed on.
Ruger’s finger descended into the moist slice through her body, which begged for the attention he was happy to give it. Of their own volition, her legs separated as he coaxed his finger through her, immersing the digit in her core to her audible delight.
‘Ruger…’ she said again, working herself against the invader that came out of her to pinch her clit and spoil that neglected nub with some devotion.
‘Shh, not yet, Legs,’ he said, bringing his lips back to her ear. ‘Soon, you can make all the noise you want, but not yet.’
Layla might not have considered herself the type to take orders, but when Ruger gave them, they became her reason for being. Her compliance fuelled his desire. She could feel it in the fervour of his finger when it slipped back into her, feel it in the increased pressure of his lips that parted on her throat to let his tongue taste what his heart desired.
Layla wanted to talk, wanted to ask for more, yet she squeaked and writhed against the length of his digit that curled into her G-spot and then stayed put. The internal chant of her atoms vibrated and with a squeeze of his curled finger he pushed the ball of his hand into her clit and boom, it was like the key had been turned and suddenly she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
A quaking gasp made her legs give, but his arm came around her ribs and he lifted her up to drop her face first onto the bed. She didn’t care where she was, the connection of their bodies remained and when he repeated the manoeuvre, this time with a sideways rub of her clit, she was urged over the precipice into orgasm again.
From the distribution of heat on her back she knew he was kneeling over her, and the gradual increase of his weight led up to his mouth closing over her nape and her hair being pushed up, out of his way.
Still recovering from the surprise of her climax, Layla couldn’t object when his hands slid away and his weight disappeared. She didn’t even have it in her to turn over and see what he was doing. Trusting that he would come back and that he had a plan, she stayed where she was breathing in the clean smell of fabric softener and rose petals.
‘I could take a couple of naked pictures now, since we’re here,’ he said.
Gasping, she flipped onto her back half-expecting to see him there with his cell phone at the ready. Instead what she saw was a fully naked Ruger and it was such a breath-taking sight that humour and horror fled. Layla learned in that second, with that first glimpse of him, that Ruger had the brawn to back up his brains. Picking out each defined muscle group, it became clear that stamina wasn’t going to be a problem for him either.
Lifting one knee onto the bed, Ruger brought the other up on the opposite side of her legs, sandwiching her form between his solid thighs. He was grinning now, probably pleased with his joke and her reaction to his physique. No doubt there was some pride in his swagger too, attributed to what he’d accomplished with her so far. But she was happy to stay on her back and welcomed his kiss when he bowed to placate her.
Beneath him, she welcomed his kiss and the density of his fist rested on her pubis while the hot head of his member was squeezed between their bodies when his weight descended onto her.
‘I’m wearing a condom, ok?’ he asked.
He was still holding himself in the hand that was on her pubis, but his other forearm was caught in her hair, so he curled his hand around to stroke her locks away from her forehead. She nodded, happy that he was being so conscientious and avoiding the break in proceedings that she might have otherwise had to make.
Initiating the next kiss, she gave him permission. ‘I’m ready.’
‘I know,’ he said, wearing a grin. ‘You’ve got a regular gush going on down there.’
‘You want me to apologise for being aroused?’
‘Never,’ he muttered, descending on her.
Opening her legs for him was natural when his tongue cajoled its way into her mouth. Focusing on the softness of his tongue—its insistence on being joined with hers—she didn’t think anything of the motion of his hips.
Spearing himself into her, she stopped kissing and breathing when she realised this wasn’t going to be an easy job. She hadn’t been with loads of guys, but she’d been with enough of them to expect this part of sex to be simple. Insert penis, easy, at least it usually was. Her past lovers had been a variety of sizes, some larger, some smaller, and some right in the middle. But Ruger wasn’t like any of those men.
Having sensed her reaction, Ruger took his mouth from hers. ‘You ok?’
‘Uncomfortable,’ she admitted.
‘You want me to stop?’
‘No. No. No. No,’ she said on one rush of breath. ‘Just, take it slow.’
Easing back, he pushed in again, working the first inch of himself in and out of her until she’d taken more of him. Widening her passage to accommodate him sent a sting of discomfort zipping through her and the shock of it made her tense.
‘Easy, Legs,’ he said, freezing in position. ‘You’ve got this, you’re ok.’
‘I’m so glad we didn’t do this at your mother’s house,’ she said, attempting a joke.
He laughed, probably just to be polite, then combed his fingers through her hair and caressed her cheeks. ‘Wrap those legs up around me, hmm? Fulfil my fantasy.’
‘Your obsession with my legs is not healthy,’ she teased and twined her fingers at the back of his neck while coiling her legs around him too.
‘It’s ok, I think I’m going to become obsessed with a different part of you pretty soon.’
‘I’m ready, keep going,’ she said.
This time as he urged himself deeper, he kissed her and her body softened to allow him inside. Layla hadn’t realised that they’d gotten all the way until she registered the increased pace of his thrusts. He was in her and out of her, faster and faster. Overjoyed that she’d adjusted to hold him, she relaxed and acclimatised to the enthralling sensations that this new distension caused.
Each thrust was an amplification of the one before. This was a stronger, more addicting occurrence than any she’d experienced in the sack in the past. He began to slow and when she read his frown Layla pulled him down to kiss it away.
She didn’t know what he’d feared or what he’d read on her expression, but what she was feeling was not negative in any way. Quickening his action, his dick pumped in and out and she moved in his rhythm, which became hers.
A series of whimpers and moans signalled her race to climax and she wanted to hold out for him. But he was too big, touching all of her at once, touching places inside of her that had been long neglected and now exulted in this maelstrom of attention.
‘Ruger,’ she gasped then held her breath as her muscles contracted and the burst of release drowned her in the most powerful orgasm she could ever remember. So caught up in her own sensations, Layla missed the change in his expression and it was with another plunge into her that he growled out her name and then went still in the reverberation of his own pinnacle.
When his lungful of air came out in one long puff, she let go of her own held breath and they made eye contact for long enough for him to di
p down and kiss her forehead.
‘Wait here,’ he said, and rolled away off the bed.
She wasn’t going anywhere, she wasn’t sure that she was capable. Watching him go into an adjoining room and turn on a light, she picked out the features of a bathroom in her brief view before he closed the door.
All of her muscles ached, none more so than the newly modified passage that would no doubt never fit another man, at least that was how she felt right now. Rolling onto her front, she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes to try and calm her erratic breathing and her thumping heart. But the zing of orgasm-afterglow still buzzed her nerve endings and although she knew she should go to the bathroom to clean herself up, Layla couldn’t quite bring herself to move.
Being with Ruger was an accomplishment and not because of their anatomy, but because she had never had an experience that felt so right. Every part of it was right from their dinner down stairs, their banter, the way he took control, but managed to still make her feel valued and in control while he sated his body and hers.
‘You ok?’
He landed on top of her, but quickly moved and she switched her view from left to right, so she could peek up from her pillow at him.
‘I think ok about covers it,’ she mumbled, her mouth still half encased in the pillow. ‘Your dismount could use some work.’
She loved his laugh and it always made her smile. He slid down on the bed, so his face could come in close to hers, and his arm rested on her spine. ‘I had to get rid of the condom,’ he murmured past his curled lips, then kissed her. ‘I’ll try to be more romantic about it the next time.’
‘Next time,’ she said, wriggling over so that she could lie her torso on his and brush their noses together. ‘Who says you get a second chance?’
‘That big, satisfied smile on your face, that’s who,’ he said, bobbing up to catch her lower lip in his teeth before he kissed her. ‘And they don’t rent rooms in here by the hour, I checked, so we’ve got this baby for the rest of the night. We’re going to need to do something.’
Game Of Risk (Risqué #3) Page 11
