Captain

by Lauren Rowe

  I tilt my head and look at her funny. “Ryan?”

  Kat nods. “And Daxy’s a whole other kettle of fish. He hates the whole groupie thing—he’s actually always looking for a genuine ‘soul connection.’” Kat shrugs. “So I guess it’ll have to be Ryan or Daxy escorting you, then.” She smiles sweetly. “Any preference between Ryan or Dax?” She arches one of her bold eyebrows—and suddenly, I get the distinct feeling this is a test of some sort.

  “Um, nope, no preference whatsoever,” I say, trying to sound sincere, although, I must admit, I’m praying Kat saves me from myself and picks Dax.

  “Ryan, then,” Kat says decisively. “I’m sure Dax will want to be at the party when Reed arrives later.” She slides her hand into mine. “Come on, honey. Let’s go ask Ryan to get you safely to your room.”

  “It’s really not necessary,” I say, the hairs on my arms standing up. Kat’s gonna ask Ryan to escort me to my room? Oh, God, help me.

  “No, honey,” Kat says. “I don’t want you walking alone when you’re wobbly. Don’t worry, Ryan is completely trustworthy and reliable. He’s a real sweetheart, that one—a real knight in shining armor. Honestly, if I were gonna set you up with any of my brothers—or with any guy in the world, actually—Ryan would be the one.” Kat smiles broadly. “Come on, sweetie. Let me take you to Ryan now. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to do it.”

  Chapter 39

  Ryan

  “What the fuck!” Tessa screams at me the second we’re out of earshot from the party. “Have you told your entire fucking family about us?”

  “Of course not. Why do you say that?” I ask.

  I’m walking alongside her on a winding pathway that I’m assuming leads to her room, amused as hell at the furious way she’s stomping her feet and swinging her arms as she marches two paces ahead of me.

  “Because Kat just made a big point of telling me you’re a ‘knight in shining armor’ and that you’re the brother she’d set me up with, if that were her intention, and, right before that, Keane went out of his way to tell me you’re the ‘greatest guy in the world’ and that ‘any woman would be lucky to snag you’ and that he’d heard you’re some kind of sex god! What the fuckity-motherfuck did you tell them, Ryan Asshole Fucking Morgan?”

  I chuckle. “My brother and sister said all that cool stuff about me? Wow. It’s amazing how far a hundred bucks stretches these days.”

  “It’s not funny, Ryan the Asshole! What the fuck did you tell them? One of them singing your praises like that might be sheer coincidence—but both of them on the same night—right after we happened to have fucked each other’s brains out? I’m not a moron, Ryan!”

  “Okay, tamp down the crazy a bit, sweetheart,” I say, laughing. “You’re being paranoid. I’ve said absolutely nothing to Kat. I swear to God. Not a word. For whatever reason, she’s been wanting to fix us up ever since she went wedding-dress shopping with you and my mom—the same way my mom wants to set us up, for whatever reason. But that’s based on some shit you did, not me. ’Fess up, Argentina, what the hell did you say to my mom and sister that made them fall head over heels in love with you and think we’re a perfect match?”

  “Fuck if I know!” she shrieks. “I’ve done nothing! I’ve said nothing! I’ve been my usual, boring, potted-plant self around them at all times. I have no freaking idea why they’re both utterly convinced I’m some kind of beacon of wonderfulness who’s destined to incubate your babies!”

  I laugh. God, she’s adorable.

  “Now stop deflecting,” she commands. “If you didn’t say something to Kat, then you definitely said something to Keane. The guy couldn’t stop staring at my tits all night long and yet he’s pimping you out? It makes no sense unless you’ve said something to him.”

  “You’ve got Keane all wrong. He’s a manwhore but he’s got a heart of gold.”

  “Stop deflecting! I don’t care about Keane’s heart of gold. I care about whatever the fuck you told him to make him say all that nice stuff about you. You told him you’ve got dibs on me, didn’t you?”

  “God, you’re smart. I really like that about you.”

  “Stop deflecting!”

  “Okay, okay, yes, I told Keane to leave you the fuck alone because I’ve got dibs. But I didn’t tell him we’ve already fucked, I swear. Actually, when I spoke to him about you, we hadn’t yet fucked and I haven’t said a word since.”

  “We hadn’t fucked yet? But we had sex within two seconds of you getting here.”

  “I told him right before you came to my room.”

  “What exactly did you tell him?”

  “I told him to stay away from you because you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours?” she shrieks. “Ha! You think because you put your dick inside me...” She gasps and looks around, making sure no one’s around to overhear—and then she starts over in a whisper. “You think because you put your dick inside me once you own me? Because you most certainly do not own me, sir. Not. At. All.”

  “Yes, I do—but not because I had sex with you once. I said you were mine before we had sex, remember? No, baby, I own you because the minute I saw you, I knew I was gonna fuck you better than anyone ever has or will—because our connection is unlike anything either of us has ever experienced before.”

  She hoots. “That doesn’t mean you own me. It just means you... I dunno... somehow knew exactly how to turn me into some kind of sex-addict.”

  “You realize you didn’t dispute any of my underlying assumptions?”

  “Oh. Well. Let me dispute them now. Did you fuck me better than anyone ever has?” She pauses. “Actually, yes. Okay, I gotta give you that one. But ever will? I have no freaking idea. How can I know that without any basis for comparison?”

  “You’re saying I was your first sexual experience?”

  “No, of course not—I’m saying you were my first no-strings sexual experience. Maybe the secret ingredient to our amazing chemistry wasn’t you, per se, but the lack of connection I felt between my body and heart. Maybe all meaningless sex is that amazing when I genuinely despise my partner? How will I know until I try it again with someone else I equally abhor?”

  My blood flash-boils. I grab her arm and stop her from walking, my eyes blazing. “Enough with that shit, Tessa. You can’t say that shit to me. Never again. It’s totally fucked up that you say that shit to me.”

  She smiles wickedly. “Oh, dear. You look a bit... riled up, Ryan.” She wriggles free of my grasp and continues walking and I follow behind her, my chest heaving and my dick throbbing.

  “Don’t say that shit to me,” I say evenly.

  “Fine.”

  “Ever again.”

  “Fine.”

  We reach her door.

  “Gimme your key,” I say, putting out my hand.

  She smacks her key into my palm in a huff. “How did I find you so attractive three months ago? I can’t even remember what I saw in you. You’re so utterly... annoying.”

  I wordlessly swipe her card-key while she continues talking behind me.

  “Plus, you’re cocky,” she says. “And possessive. And full of yourself. You’ve obviously fooled your parents and siblings into thinking you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread, but I’ve seen a side of you they haven’t, obviously, and I’m not fooled.”

  I open the door and motion for her to step inside, which she does, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes blazing.

  I close the door behind me with a soft click and turn around.

  And then, without further ado, we lurch toward each other and maul the living fuck out of each other.

  Chapter 40

  Ryan

  “What he ate did not so much relieve his hunger, as keep it immortal in him.”

  We’re a frenzied blur of hungry lips, groping hands, and voracious tongues. She’s got my shirt off. My pants on the floor. I’ve got her dress off. Her bra unclasped.

  “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re my crack,” I murmur into
her mouth.

  She makes a sound of arousal that makes every cell in my body strain for her.

  I yank her undies down, off her hips, and she pulls sharply on my briefs, panting and gasping for air. I help her get my briefs off, and a second later, they’re flying through the air and landing on a nearby lampshade.

  She grasps my rock-hard dick as I bury my face in her incredible breasts and suck and grope and lick and bite and revel in them. In her.

  I kiss and lick my way up from her breasts to her neck, and then devour her lips, and she strokes my shaft and balls and taint, making me lose my fucking mind. I slide my fingers between her legs and stroke her swollen, wet pussy ’til my fingers are slick with her juices and she’s moaning like a calf at slaughter.

  I somehow manage to grab a couple condoms out of my pants on the floor, scoop her naked body into my arms, and carry her to the bed, kissing her voraciously as I go.

  “I’m gonna make you come so hard, baby,” I say, laying her onto her bed, the tip of my cock already beaded with pre-cum. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

  Her eyes blaze.

  I lie alongside her and press my wet dick into her hip and take her nipple into my mouth and slide my fingers inside her, deep inside her. I begin massaging that particular spot at her farthest reaches—and with each stroke of my fingers inside her, and each word whispered into her ear about how hot she is and how much she turns me on and how hard I am for her, she keeps ramping up and up and up, until she’s arching her back and writhing and groaning like she’s being gutted.

  “That’s it, baby,” I whisper. “Get it.”

  She makes a primal sound.

  “Come for me,” I grit out.

  Whatever shards of inhibitions might have remained when we fucked the first time around have been obliterated now—she’s clearly not holding a damned thing back. And it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s a wild animal, absolutely inhuman—which makes me feel like a wild animal, too.

  “Say my name when you come,” I whisper. “Say it for me.”

  She comes, my name barreling out of her mouth—and it’s so fucking glorious, I almost come myself.

  When she’s done climaxing, I kiss her and stroke her again, this time working her G-spot. I ramp her up and up, stroking her, massaging, coaxing, until she jerks and shudders and comes for me again. I do it again and again to her, and each time, she heaves and screams and shudders and whimpers more and more forcefully, until, finally, it’s like I’m dragging her body through the pits of hell and she’s got tears streaming down her cheeks and sweat beading between her breasts and I’m on the cusp of coming myself, just from the pleasure of watching her lose herself so completely.

  Without warning, she grabs my dick and bites my nipple so hard, I feel like I’m gonna black out from the glorious pain. “Fuck. Me. Asshole,” she grits out.

  Oh, God, my new three favorite words.

  In a heartbeat, I’ve got my hard-on covered and I’m on top of her with her legs thrown straight up in the air. I slide into her warm, tight, wetness, and, at my entry, we both let out loud groans of relief and pleasure. She’s perfect. Supernatural. Sex has never felt this good—she’s a whole new species of woman.

  I kiss her and fuck her, touching her beautiful face as I move in and out of her, grinding my pelvis at just the right angle to make that little metal ball at the base of my cock send her to heaven.

  We shift positions. She wraps her arms and legs tightly around me, giving herself to me completely. Oh, God, the way this woman turns me on isn’t normal. Every movement of our bodies, every beat of our hearts, feels preordained.

  “I hate you so much,” she whispers, but she’s growling with ecstasy as she says it.

  “Say you’re mine,” I grit out.

  “Fuck you,” she whispers, her breathing ragged.

  “Nobody can make you feel this good but me,” I whisper. “Admit it.”

  “Fuck you. Oh, God.” Without warning, she arches her back violently, and lets out a sound that tells me she’s a hair’s breath away from total and complete rapture. “I hate you.”

  “Fucking a guy you hate feels damned good, huh?”

  She whimpers. “Yes.”

  “Best you ever had.”

  She moans.

  “Tell me you hate me again.”

  “I hate you.”

  I clasp my fingers in hers as I move in and out of her, slamming against her clit with my piercing over and over. “You like that?”

  “Yes. Oh, God, yes. So good. So fucking good. I hate you so much.”

  Holy shit, my body’s on the bitter edge. What kind of crazy fuck am I to be turned on by this woman telling me she hates me? But, oh my God, I am. Fuck, yes, I am. “Come for me, baby,” I whisper. “Say my name for me.”

  She cries out, saying my name, as commanded, and my cock is squeezed and massaged as her muscles ripple with pleasure.

  I increase the intensity of my thrusts, my body on the verge of a massive orgasm. At my fervor, she frantically cups my cheeks and kisses my lips and twists my nipples and claws at my back—all while I grip her hair and grind my body in and out of hers, barreling like a motherfucker toward my own release. When it finally comes, when my body finally lets go, the sensation is so intense, I feel physically disoriented by the pleasure, like I’m tumbling out an airplane at thirty thousand feet without a parachute.

  Finally, when my body’s quieted down, all I can do is lie on top of her, trying to catch my breath, my lips pressed against her sweaty cheek.

  “Holy shit.”

  I roll off her and onto my back, drenched in sweat, peel my condom off, and look at her for a long moment. She’s obviously in some sort of pleasure-induced daze. Her nipples are still hard as little pebbles. Her cheeks are flushed. Man, she looks ripe as a peach.

  I touch her hard nipple and stroke the curve of her breast. “Holy shit, you’re not even close to finished,” I whisper. “Come sit on my face ’til I can fuck you again, baby. Come on.”

  I don’t need to ask her twice. Her eyes blazing, she climbs over my face and lowers herself onto my lips and, thank you, God, I’m met with the unparalleled pleasure of warm, sweet slickness against my lips, and soft, smooth flesh against my cheeks, and the delicious taste of her pussy against my tongue. I slide my palms over her rocking hips and gently guide her movement over my face as I lap at her, coaxing her pelvis into movement in synchronicity with my hungry mouth.

  After only a few minutes, she makes a truly crazy sound, so I double down on what I’m doing to her—and seconds later, she unfurls into my mouth.

  I feel insatiable. I can’t get enough. The more I taste, the more I crave. It’s like she’s burrowing herself under my skin and into my very soul.

  I guide her off me and onto her back and begin kissing and licking every inch of her, my cock slowly springing to life again as I do, and before I know it, I’m hard as a rock and ready to go. I roll a condom on and guide her on top of me and, quickly, our bodies are gyrating passionately in perfect harmony.

  Oh, yeah. Fuck yeah. Her incredible breasts are bouncing with the greedy movement of her body. Her dark hair is falling around her shoulders. Her skin is smooth and glistening with sweat. But the best part of all? The enraptured expression on her beautiful face. Truly, if there’s something more beautiful than the expression on this woman’s face in this moment, then it exists only in heaven.

  “You’re so beautiful, baby,” I groan out. “Fuck anything else I used to think was beautiful. You’re the only thing.”

  “Ryan,” she chokes out. “What are you doing to me?”

  “You’re my drug,” I grit out, my body on the bitter edge of release. “Oh, God. You’re my drug.”

  She stiffens. And gasps. And then, God bless America, her muscles tighten and release and squeeze around my cock so forcefully, I come right along with her, a strangled cry erupting from me as I do.

  When we’re finished, sh
e collapses on top of me, stretches her body on top of mine, and seemingly passes out cold.

  After a few minutes, I’m so certain she’s fallen dead-asleep on top of me, I begin rolling her unconscious body off me onto the mattress, but she surprises me by lifting her head and looking me square in the eyes.

  “Oh, hello,” I say.

  “You’re my boy toy,” she says flatly.

  I laugh. “What?”

  “I have a freaking boy toy.”

  I chuckle. “Oh. Well, happy to oblige. I thought you were dead-asleep.”

  “I was just deep in thought. My mind is blown. I’ve fucked a man I don’t respect or like—a man I actually kinda hate. Twice.”

  I laugh and kiss the side of her head. “Three times, technically. And you don’t hate me. In fact, you’re completely obsessed with me.”

  “Yeah, I’m obsessed with you. I don’t deny that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t hate you.”

  I stroke her back and inhale her scent and feel my heart beating against hers. “Okay. Whatever floats your boat.”

  “It’s not okay,” she insists. “I honestly hate you, Ryan. When I think of you, my feelings of rage and anger aren’t normal or healthy. And I’m completely obsessed with you because I love, love, love fucking you. Oh my God, I love fucking you so much.”

  I laugh. “Good. I love fucking you, too.”

  “But what does that say about me?”

  “It says nothing about you. If anything, it says you should stop overthinking things and just enjoy yourself.”

  She rolls off me and sits next to me, clearly energized by something. “Ryan, listen to me. I just realized I’m a truly horrible person. I don’t respect you at all, not even a little bit—which means I’m using you for nothing but sex. If our genders were reversed, I’d disgust myself.”

  “I’m perfectly fine with the situation.” I pull her back down to lie with me, and wrap my arms around her. I kiss her cheek, pressing my body into hers. I inhale her scent and kiss her again. “Sweetheart,” I whisper, stroking her back. “If thinking you’re using me is what’s getting you off so fucking hard, I’m all too glad to be of service.”