His hands slid up my sides and then around my stomach. He cupped my breasts over my bra, the heat of his palms searing my skin. His fingers traced along the tops of my breasts and then he slid his fingers beneath the lace. His eyes flicked up to my face and then back down so he could watch as he pulled down the bra beneath my breasts.
“Beautiful.” The tip of his tongue teased one nipple, then the other. “I can't believe I get to wake up next to you every morning. That I can reach over and touch you.” His tongue circled my nipple and it hardened. “Taste you.”
When his lips wrapped around my nipple, I groaned. The feel of his mouth on me, the suction making my back arch. There were no words to describe just how amazing it felt. I yelped as he bit down hard enough to send a stab of bright pain through me, joining with the pleasure building inside me. He worked over my nipple until I was panting, and the sensitive skin was throbbing. He switched to the other, his fingers tracing patterns on my hip as he increased suction.
I gripped onto his shoulder, my fingers pulling at his shirt. He chuckled, the vibration sending another ripple of pleasure through me. I looked down as he released my nipple and began to kiss his way down my stomach. I reached down, thankful that he hadn't bound my hands. I needed to touch him. I buried my fingers in his hair as he lowered his head between my legs.
I cried out at the first pass of his tongue and felt him smile. He gripped my hips, holding them tightly as he began to kiss me, exploring my pussy as thoroughly as he'd explored my mouth. He caressed every last inch of sensitive flesh, making me writhe with pleasure. The moment he took my clit between his lips, I came. My back arched and he held on to me, coaxing me to greater heights. Finally, I tugged on his hair, pulling him up my body until his mouth crashed against mine. I tasted myself on his lips, his tongue.
“Your turn,” I gasped as I broke the kiss.
He gave me a puzzled look, but I pushed against his chest and he got the idea. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His pants came next, revealing that long, thick shaft that made my pussy throb and my mouth water.
“Turn over.” Now he looked really confused. I smiled at him as I ran my hand over his chest, committing ridge and dip to memory. I leaned down and put my lips against his ear. “I want to taste your tattoo.”
His eyes darkened and he rolled over, folding his arms under his head. I took a moment to admire the view. His muscular calves and thighs. Firm ass. The dimples at the base of his spine. Then up to the broad expanse of his back. I used my fingers first, tracing along each line of the cross, loving the feel of his muscles twitching under my touch. When I leaned forward and began to follow the same path with my tongue, he moaned. I knew all too well that each person had their own unique taste. His, I loved. The tang of salt from sweat. The faint hint of the soap he used, all but gone after a long day. And that thing that was just him. People could call it pheromones or whatever. I didn't care what name they gave it, only that I wanted to remember it.
I went back down his spine and then moved to press an open-mouthed kiss on one muscular cheek. I scraped my teeth against his skin and he jumped. I chuckled, then let out an undignified squeal as he rolled over and pulled me on top of him.
“Hey!” I protested. “I'm not done.”
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow, then released me. “Well then, by all means, continue.”
I slid off to the side and resumed my exploration of his body, this time on the other side. I ran my hands over his chest, lightly raking my nails over his flat nipples. He hissed and I repeated the gesture. I leaned down and ran my tongue over the darker skin, earning a moan, then a deeper grown when I teased him with my teeth.
After a few minutes, I moved lower, kissing across his sculpted abs, then down to his bellybutton. I teased it with my tongue and he jerked as if he was ticklish. Then I was right where I wanted to be. His cock was full and thick, pre-cum already leaking from the tip. I ran my tongue up the length of him, appreciating the texture, the taste. That thing that made his flavor unique was stronger here. I circled the head, teasing the tip with my tongue before moving to take him between my lips.
“Fuck!” The word was a half-strangled groan.
I lowered my head slowly, enjoying the weight of him on my tongue, the way my lips stretched to accommodate his girth. He moaned my name as I took more of him, relaxing the muscles in my throat to take all of him. My nose brushed against his pelvic bone and I stayed there for as long as I could before raising my head again. His muscles jumped under my palms as I pressed against his hips, holding them as I went down again.
“Jenna, love.” He put his hand on my head. “You keep that up, I'll come.” I raised my head and his eyes met mine. “And I want to be inside you when I do.”
I let his cock slip from between my lips. As much as I wanted to feel him come in my mouth again, taste him, I wanted him inside me more. He had stamina and a pretty amazing recovery time, but it had been a long day and I knew we were both tired.
I leaned down and kissed him, a slow kiss that became more passionate, more intense as his arms wrapped around me. He rolled me under him and I ran my hands up his arms to grip his shoulders. I was glad he wanted it this way. I could've been on top but I wanted to feel the weight of him. I knew there'd never be another man I'd trust this much and I wanted to remember how it felt to have his stomach pressed against mine, my legs around his waist as his cock rubbed against my sensitive skin.
He entered me slowly, letting me feel every inch of him as he stretched me. I whimpered at the torture, my body screaming for him to fill me, to make me his. And I was his, body, mind and soul, if there was such a thing. I'd given him everything and I wasn't going to hold back this time either. I needed him to know that this was real for me, no matter what happened tomorrow.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against my lips. His hips rocked gently against me, creating pleasant friction that burned through me. “Like you were made for me.”
I felt the tears coming and I closed my eyes, pushing up against him, desperate for him to move. I knew what he meant and it just made things harder. We did fit together perfectly. Some people say that all sex is the same, a woman's body adapting for whoever she happened to be with, but with Rylan, I understood the difference. It wasn't necessarily physical as it was everything else. The way he knew exactly what I needed. How my body responded to his. With other partners, it had been all about the physical sensations, pure chemistry and biology. Rylan could turn me on with a look, a word. He knew when I needed gentle and when I needed something rougher. I craved him like nothing else.
His thrusts were shallow, as if he were as reluctant to withdraw as I was to lose him. I moaned as his tongue traced patterns on my neck and collarbone. When he began to nip and suck on the skin there, I ran my hands down his back, nails lightly scratching at his skin. I was glad he was leaving a mark. At least for a short while, I'd have something tangible to remember tonight.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked softly. He rolled his hips and I cried out. “I'm always thinking about you, wanting you. I could spend my entire life buried deep inside you, holding you in my arms, and it still wouldn't be enough of you.”
“Rylan.” I put my hands on his ass. “Please.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows, pulling out slowly before pushing back inside.
“Yes,” I hissed as he repeated the movement.
As close as he'd said he'd been when I had him in my mouth, he was displaying more self-control than I would've thought possible. Each thrust was deep, but not rushed. He was taking his time, drawing out each stroke so that I felt every second of it. He rotated his hips and his cock pressed against that spot inside me. I cried out, back arching as I came. My muscles tensed and he swore as my pussy contracted around him, squeezing him.
“Jenna, love.” He reached down and pushed hair out of my face. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes open and met his. Our gazes
locked as he began to move again, faster this time. I saw the determination on his face, the single-minded drive that was, for the moment, focused on me. He balanced on one arm and slid his other hand between us, thumb finding my clit easily. As he began to rub the little bundle of nerves, his pace increased again. He was close and I knew he only held back because he wanted me to come one more time. My body was wrung out, emotionally and physically, but I felt the heat building again. It was coming fast and I knew when it broke, it would consume us both.
“I love you.” His voice was ragged. “I love you so much.”
The words almost caught in my throat. “I love you too.” Four words that seemed so inadequate to describe how I felt about him, but they were all I could say.
His entire body shuddered and I felt him fighting for control. I reached up and put my hand on his cheek. My thumb brushed against the corner of his mouth.
“It's okay,” I whispered. “Let go. I've got you.”
I didn't know if it was what I said or that he was already on the edge, but I felt him swell inside me, filling me. He groaned, hips jerking against me as he wrapped his arms around me. Fingers buried in my hair as he lifted me off the bed, crushing me against his chest as he leaned back on his knees. He pulled my head to the side, sending needles of pain through my scalp. He shifted me on his lap even as he bit down on the mark he'd already left and the two sensations ripped through me, collided deep in my stomach, and exploded. I dropped my head forward, pressing my mouth against his chest as my drained body shook in the throes of another orgasm.
Everything went hazy and I was barely aware that we'd moved again until I felt him slide out of me. I felt a sharp pang of loss, knowing this was it, I'd never feel him inside me again, never feel that completion that I'd only had with him. As he pulled the blankets over us and reached for me, I curled up against him, my head on his chest, needing to feel every last moment with him before it was gone forever.
Chapter 32
I wasn't sure when I drifted off, only that at some point in the early morning hours, I woke up. Rylan was still wrapped around me, his pulse a slow and steady thump in my ear. One of his hands was on my hip, fingers curled possessively over the curve. His leg was thrown over mine, his calf across both of mine. I felt his cock, soft and warm against my stomach. The insides of my thighs were sticky and I realized I hadn't cleaned up. Right now, however, that wasn't forefront in my mind.
I tilted my head back, maneuvering myself enough that I wouldn't get a crick in my neck. His embrace loosened and he frowned in his sleep, a crease forming between his eyebrows. The faint moonlight that came into the room through the crack between the curtains cast enough light for me to see him. His lips were parted slightly and I could see that they were swollen from my kisses. Mine felt the same way. I let my gaze travel along his face, then down his throat to his chest. I'd left a mark there at some point. It might've been absurd, but a part of me was glad. I liked the idea that, at least for a short while, he'd have to remember me.
I didn't want to do this. My heart twisted at the thought of leaving him, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I'd always known he was too good for me, but I'd thought that, as long as I made him happy, I'd stay. When he realized that I wasn't who he wanted, I wouldn't complain. I'd leave without question. The more I'd stayed with him, however, I'd seen that he was the kind of man who wouldn't give up. Suzette had been right. Rylan wouldn't just walk away.
I had to be the one to do it, but I wasn't sure I was strong enough.
He wasn't only the man I loved. He was part of me. I'd always known that loving someone, truly loving them, meant giving up a part of myself, letting someone in. In a way I still wasn't entirely sure I understood, he'd broken down my walls, insinuated himself at the very core of me. Now I had to rip him out and he'd take my heart with him.
I bit my bottom lip to keep from crying. I knew how attuned he was to me. If he sensed that I was upset, he'd wake up and I wouldn't be able to go through with it.
I needed to go now. I couldn't wait until later, risking him waking up. My bag was sitting next to the dresser where Rylan had left it. All I needed to do was get up, put on my dress, grab the bag and leave. There wasn't much in it, but it'd be enough for now. Enough for me to use while I figured out what I was going to do.
I hated not having a plan, but I hadn't expected this. I'd been prepared for Rylan's family to hate me, but not for Suzette's revelation. A burst of anger cut through the other emotions. Not at Suzette, but at Rylan. If he'd told me how much kids meant to him when I'd told him I couldn't have any, we could have ended things there and spared us both some heartache. Or, at least, it would've spared me. I didn't know how much this would hurt him. There was a small part of me that hoped he'd be totally heartbroken, lost without me, but I knew that was selfish. I wanted him to be happy, to have the life he deserved.
And that meant having it without me.
The anger faded as quickly as it had come.
I needed to go now or I wouldn't have the strength to do it.
I carefully extricated myself from his embrace, watching as he rolled onto his stomach, the sheet sliding down to partially wrap around his waist. His back was bare, as was one long leg. I gave myself a moment to look at him one last time before I grabbed my clothes from the floor and went into the bathroom. If my moving had woken him, I wanted him to think I'd just gone to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up enough to be presentable and then dressed in the warmer clothes I had in my bag.
When I came out of the bathroom, Rylan's breathing was deep and slow. He was still asleep.
“Good-bye, love,” I whispered before quietly walking out. I made my way back downstairs, tears burning in my eyes. I couldn't cry, not yet. I had two more things to do, and one involved me seeing well enough to write.
***
The air outside was cold enough to make me gasp. I pulled out my phone and called for a taxi as I started to walk down the driveway. I didn't want them pulling into the driveway and waking Rylan. I wanted him to sleep with the memory of our last night together fresh in his mind. When he woke up in the morning and figured out I was gone, it'd be bad enough. He deserved a few more hours of peace.
And then what? I walked a few feet down the road before stopping to wait for the taxi. What would Rylan do when he realized I'd left? How long would it take him to find the note and the box that I'd left? Even though I knew Rylan would've insisted I take it with me, I left my Christmas present. I couldn't keep something so expensive, no matter how much I wanted to cherish the only present I'd ever received. If I left with it, Rylan's family would think they'd been right about me only wanting him for the money. Leaving it was hard, but I reminded myself that his family saw the gift as money, not love, and I couldn't let Rylan suffer their smug satisfaction at believing they'd been right.
I'd debated whether or not I should leave a note, but it had seemed too cruel not to say anything. I hadn't been able to write much though, not without the risk of either bursting into tears or abandoning the whole thing, so I'd kept it simple.
I'm sorry. I can't.
I'd considered telling him not to look for me, but I knew that would only make him look harder. And I didn't want to give him a head's up that I was planning on quitting my job too. If he simply waited until Monday, thinking he'd see me then, it would give him time to process me leaving. I hoped that once he received my resignation, he'd be inclined to accept it and move on.
I climbed into the cab, barely feeling the warmth. I started to give the driver my address and stopped. I couldn't go back to the apartment. It would be the first place Rylan would look for me, maybe even before he found my note. I didn't want to face him, especially if he thought I'd just gone back to get a head start on the moving.
“Take me to a hotel,” I said.
“Which one?” The driver gave me a curious look in the rearview mirror and I knew he was trying to figure out what my story was.
“It doesn't mat
ter,” I answered. “Any hotel.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
At least he was polite enough not to ask questions. I kept my eyes fixed firmly ahead as he turned around and headed back into the city. I just needed to hold it together a bit longer and then I could let it all go. Not that crying would help. I pulled my jacket more tightly around me. Nothing could help me. There was a black hole inside my chest, threatening to swallow me and I wasn't sure I had the strength to pull myself out of the darkness again.
I'd thought my future would be brighter than my past, but I could see now that it was just a different kind of darkness, and without Rylan, I didn't see any way out. At least, I thought, I wouldn't pull him down with me. I clung to that, the knowledge that Rylan could have his happy ending. I loved him too much to take it from him, no matter what it meant for me.
– The End –
The Pleasure Series continues in MORE PLEASURES, the next book in this box set.
More Pleasures
A Rylan Novella
Pleasure Series Book 2.5
By M.S. Parker
Prologue
Her body was limp in my arms as I maneuvered us under the blankets. My muscles still trembled from how hard I'd come, but I managed to get us situated and comfortable. I slid my arms around her and pulled her close as she curled up against me, her head on my chest. The gesture looked so natural for her that it made my heart hurt. I stroked her dark hair as her eyes slowly closed. The deep ebony black falling around her shoulders was new, but hair color didn't matter to me. Whether her hair was the bright blue she'd worn when we'd first met or her natural color like now, she was the same woman.
No, I amended. She wasn't the same, but it had nothing to do with her appearance. She'd changed her hair color and removed her eyebrow and bellybutton piercings, but not because I'd asked her to. She'd done it because she was feeling more comfortable in her own skin. It was funny. Most people assumed that, because of the way she dressed, she had to be confident, not caring what others thought. I knew, however, that while some of her appearance was personal preference, some of it had been her way of shielding herself from being hurt again. A disguise.
The Pleasure Series: Complete Box Set Page 50
