by Shelly Bell
One last time.
What would it hurt?
He might hate her when she told him the truth, but at least she’d have one more incredible memory of him to keep her warm on cold winter nights.
“I need you to be honest.” She drew back and stared into his eyes. “Do you have a wife or girlfriend I should know about?”
A notch formed above his nose and his brows dipped. He looked genuinely confused by her question.
Had she been wrong about what she’d overheard that night?
He grabbed her face between his hands and put his forehead against hers. “I don’t know where you got the idea that I have a wife or girlfriend, but I swear, there’s no one else. Not now…and not the last time we were together.”
Call her naïve, but she believed him.
“Then fuck me, Ryder,” she said shyly, the words coming out like a plea.
And maybe it was.
He didn’t hesitate. Like a man possessed, he growled as he covered her mouth with his, stealing her breath from her lungs. He tasted the same as he had that night, the whiskey he’d drunk earlier still on his tongue. She could become intoxicated on his mouth alone. Not from the alcohol, but in the way his lips slanted over hers, caressing and claiming at the same time. His tongue danced with hers, teasing her before darting away.
Her body was on fire and her heart raced.
The fabric of her dress rubbed almost painfully against her fevered skin, a barrier she no longer wanted between her and Ryder.
“Need to see you,” he mumbled between kisses. With deft precision, he unzipped the back of her dress, the sound of it mingling with their mutual groans of want. Her sleeveless dress slid down her chest and fluttered to the floor, leaving her completely bare.
And she did mean completely.
The color and material of the dress weren’t conducive to undergarments.
He stopped kissing her and took a step backward. His gaze raked a languid path over her breasts, down her belly, to the patch of hair between her thighs. She trembled, wondering if he noticed the changes—her slightly larger breasts and the extra ten pounds she carried on her lower abdomen.
If so, he didn’t seem to mind.
He reached out for her and cupped her breasts in his hands. His fingers strummed her nipples, lighting up every nerve in her body. It was as if Ryder had awoken her from a deep slumber, reminding her she was a sexual creature who deserved to be touched.
His expression turned fierce, and in one swift motion, he scooped her up into his arms. He carried her over to the couch, snagging the half-filled bottle of champagne along the way, and settled her upon the cool leather. Lying down, she spread her thighs apart in expectation of him settling between them.
Instead he fell to his knees and drew a nipple into his warm mouth. Her head lolled to the side as each pull of his mouth sent tendrils of hot embers to her clit, almost as if he were sucking on them at the same time. Her nipples were much more sensitive since the last time he’d done this to her.
It had been so long.
The tension inside her wound too quickly, too tightly, but she couldn’t hold back. Crying out his name, she broke apart, shattering, trembling, as wave after wave of hot bliss poured through her core and outward.
When she came back to herself, her gaze met his.
“Did you just come?” he asked with a smile.
She looked away. “Yes. It’s embarrassing.”
His fingers gently turned her chin back toward him. The irises of his eyes had changed to a darker gray. “Hey. Don’t be embarrassed. It was fucking sexy as hell to witness. In fact, I want to see it again.”
Again? She tried to sit up, but he pushed her down with a hand to her belly.
Okay, then.
He maneuvered her body so that her legs dangled over the couch cushion and he had full access to her sex. Moving between her thighs, he leaned up and took her mouth in a blistering kiss that made her lips tingle. A cool splash of fizzy liquid hit her neck and chest.
Ryder licked a trail down her neck to her breastbone, lapping up the champagne with his hot tongue. He alternately sucked and bit her nipples, playing with them until she was sure she’d go crazy from want. Returning to her mouth, he shared the champagne pooled on his tongue.
Whatever this crazy chemistry was between them, it played havoc with her common sense. He slipped lower, spilling champagne over her belly…her pelvis…the V between her legs…his tongue lapping up the alcohol along the way. Her thighs quivered, spreading wider on their own volition, anticipation building with every inch of skin he covered. He leaned back and stared at her, a glimmer in his eyes that she didn’t recognize, and slowly brought the champagne bottle to her entrance.
Would he…?
Her head rolled back as he carefully slid the first couple inches of the bottle into her slickness. Oh God. This wasn’t right. Wasn’t proper.
Bubbly liquid dripped out of her. He pulled the bottle from her and covered her champagne-drenched flesh with his hot mouth, devouring her as if she were a rare delicacy. He fucked her with his tongue, plunging and retreating it, giving her only a small taste of what it would feel like to have him fill her with his cock.
His mouth glossy with her arousal, he inserted the bottle again, this time a little farther. Her muscles clenched around the smooth glass, the sensation odd but exciting. He pulled back, making her think he was going to take it out, before gliding it back in. Over and over, he fucked her with the glass, building her arousal but not giving her enough to push her into climax.
It was wicked and decadent.
She barely recognized the woman who was allowing this man to defile her with a glass bottle.
The sound of people talking right outside the door caused her to tense. “Ryder,” she whispered in warning.
“What’s wrong, Jane?” he said, smirking up at her. “Are you worried someone will come in here? Or does it excite you? Knowing that all they have to do is turn that knob and they’ll see you naked, thighs spread, your pussy pink and swollen as I fuck you with a three-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne?”
She shut her eyes, not wanting him to witness the truth in them. That every word he uttered just drove her arousal higher and higher. That the idea of someone catching them turned her on more than she’d ever care to admit.
Ryder’s thumb pressed on her clit, rubbing and making tiny circles. “No hiding. Open your eyes and give it to me, Jane. I want to drink your come directly from the bottle.”
She was helpless against his command.
Her lids flew wide as the orgasm built deep inside her core, the strength of it liable to rip her apart. Every cell in her body buzzed. Her arms and thighs shook. Her fingers curled into the couch cushions. She sucked in a large breath just as she reached the pinnacle of her pleasure. And then she was free-falling.
She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out. Her sex contracted around the hard, smooth glass, and liquid heat expanded outward, bathing her limbs in exquisite rapture.
Either the people standing outside the door had left or they were at the door listening, but she didn’t hear any voices in the hallway anymore. Not that she cared. Ryder had a way of making the rest of the world disappear when she was with him.
His gaze was locked on hers, his eyes darker now. Ryder removed the bottle and brought it to his mouth, his lips wrapping around the rim. He threw his head back and tipped the bottle, drinking it down with a groan that she felt like a graze between her legs. Mesmerized by the sight and jealous of the bottle, she watched the way his Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed.
He slipped the bottle out of his mouth and lifted it to her lips. “Delicious. Taste yourself,” he ordered.
She curled her lips around the same rim where his had been only moments ago, tasting her arousal still on the glass along with the flavor of Ryder’s mouth. Champagne splashed onto her tongue and she drank it down greedily. Eagerly.
The room spun.
She was intoxicated but not on alcohol.
On sex.
On desire.
On Ryder.
Before she finished swallowing, his mouth crashed into hers.
He covered her with his clothed body, every part of him touching every part of her.
She laughed softly. “You’re going to stain your tuxedo.”
He dragged a single finger down her cheekbone. “I don’t care.”
She wanted to feel him. Skin to skin.
But there wasn’t enough time.
Even though she’d already come twice, she’d go mad if she didn’t have his cock inside her soon.
Her hands clumsily worked the button of his dress pants. He lifted himself off her just enough so she could pull down the zipper and tug his shirt out.
But just as she slipped her fingers below his waistband, he stilled her seeking hands.
He sucked in a breath. “Don’t.” His eyes and mouth were pinched as if he was in pain. “We shouldn’t go any further. Not until we have that talk and you tell me the truth.”
The truth. Right. She had to tell him everything. Not tomorrow, but tonight. He deserved to know. Making love with secrets between them would be wrong. But why, then, did it feel so right?
Keeping her eyes on his, she slid her hands from underneath his and continued to move them on their original path until she got to their target. His hard penis jerked as she wrapped her hand around it.
He hissed. “Jane,” he said in warning.
She waited for him to order her to stop, but instead he thrust his pelvis up in a silent demand for more.
Feeling victorious, she yanked down his underwear enough to reveal him. Their first night together, she’d been shy and hesitant. Worried about doing everything right. She hadn’t given herself permission to look closely at his…cock.
Long, cut, and with a thick crown, it was a bit of a mystery as to how she’d ever taken all of that inside her. She traced the bulging vein that ran up the length, feeling it pulsate under her fingertips. The skin itself was soft—much softer than the rest of his skin—and reddish around the corona.
She wanted to make him feel good, as good as he’d made her feel. Mouth open, she leaned forward to take him inside.
“No. I’m not going to last long and I don’t want to come in your mouth.” He tossed his wallet onto the carpet and flipped it open, grabbing a condom packet. “I want your pussy. Put this on me.”
Her hands shook as she rolled the latex down over his cock. He gestured for her to get on his lap. “Ride me, Jane. I need to feel you.”
She sucked in a breath at the terrifying yet exciting idea of being on top of him, of having the control. Would she know what to do?
Climbing on his lap, she shivered at the feel of his clothes against her naked flesh. It reminded her that although she was on top, he retained the power. For some reason, that thought gave her comfort.
Gripping the top of his cock, she lifted herself above it and notched it to her slick opening. She lowered herself onto him, watching as he slowly disappeared inside her. Although she was no longer a virgin, there was still a slight burn as he stretched the sensitive tissues.
He hissed, his hands firmly gripping both her hips. “Even dripping for me, you’re so fucking tight. Take it all. I don’t want a single inch of my dick to be left out of your pussy.”
Sweat dripped between the valley of her breasts. She was already feeling stretched to capacity and she still had a few inches to go. But along with the intense fullness came a sense of rightness, as if they were two pieces that were meant to fit together.
If he wanted it all, she’d give him all because she wanted to please him.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she sank all the way down until her ass rested on his thighs.
Within seconds, the pressure building behind her clit compelled her to move. Slowly, she slid upward, testing how far she could go. On the way, his cock rubbed a couple of spots that brought stars to her eyes and electric sparks shooting through her core.
She let out a very unladylike groan as she tossed her head back and shamelessly rode his cock, clenching her internal muscles along the way up and releasing them on the way back down. He thrust his pelvis up, hitting her clitoris on every downstroke. His fingers dug into her hips as he helped her to move faster and faster, relentlessly pounding into her without a single reprieve.
“Get there, Jane,” he said hoarsely, reaching between them to pinch her clit. “I’m not gonna last much longer. It’s been too long.”
She didn’t know what he’d meant by it being “too long,” but the urgency in his voice coupled with the extra stimulation to her clit sent her to the very edge. “I’m there, Ryder. I’m coming.” Her body thrashed as deep pulsations rocked her core and her walls clamped down over and over again on Ryder’s cock.
With a guttural shout, Ryder stilled, his eyes shut so tight, he looked as if he was in pain rather than orgasmic pleasure.
She collapsed on top of him, her arms flung over his shoulders and her head on his chest. His heart hammered underneath her ear as they both attempted to catch their breath.
Nothing had ever felt so good. At least nothing since that first night. Neither her own hand nor her plastic vibrator could ever re-create the sensation of having Ryder deep inside of her.
Unfortunately, she might have to be content with her memories.
Because it was time to tell Ryder the truth.
And once she did, he may never want her again.
SIX
If it was possible to sink his dick even farther inside of Jane, he would. Ryder wanted to thrust his entire being into her, fuck himself so far into her, she’d feel him there for the rest of her life.
One last time.
Who had he been trying to kid?
How many nights had he fantasized about being inside of her again?
When he’d nabbed her before she went into the reception, he’d only planned on confronting her about her theft of Novateur’s designs. He didn’t know what had come over him. One minute he’d wanted to take her over his knee and punish her with fifty whacks to her bare ass and the next minute all his fury had morphed into a raging lust.
Slumped against him, drenched with sweat and her curly hair sticking to his chest, she was oblivious to how much power she held over him.
He shouldn’t have touched her. Because now that he’d gotten another taste, he only wanted more.
Which was a problem.
He needed to confront her about the theft of his designs.
But once she confirmed that she was responsible, would he still want her?
His gut said short of her being a serial murderer, and possibly even then, he’d always want Jane.
That didn’t mean he’d allow himself to have her.
Since seeing her photo in the trade magazine, he’d been under the belief that her innocence on Mackinac Island had all been an act in order to get him to lower his guard so that she could gain access to his laptop.
Yet tonight she radiated that same innocence. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was possible he had jumped to conclusions.
After all, Ryder had been the one to approach Jane at the conference. If his father had sent her, wouldn’t he have chosen someone who fit Ryder’s…typical conquest? The women he slept with were experienced and obvious about that fact. Jane was the exact opposite.
She had no idea how beautiful she really was.
He caressed her back, drifting his fingers back and forth, and she shivered, goose bumps popping up on her skin. Maybe sensing the time to talk had finally come now that they’d temporarily satiated their lust, she pulled back from him.
He held the base of the condom as she lifted herself off his lap and stood, putting her glistening, swollen pussy at eye level. And just like that, his cock twitched, apparently not quite as satiated as it should be considering he’d come harder than he had in…well, ever. Guess that’
s what happened when you didn’t have sex for more than a year.
After disposing of the condom in the wastebasket, he got back into his penguin suit, leaving his jacket and tie off while he cooled down, and Jane quickly dressed and perched those “sexy librarian” glasses on her nose.
Considering they’d just fucked like bunnies, things shouldn’t have been as awkward as they were between them. Ryder sat on the couch and patted the cushion in invitation for Jane to sit beside him.
Nibbling on her bottom lip and wringing her hands, she looked anxious as she joined him.
He wanted to hold her, soothe her nerves, put her head against his chest again, but as soon as he touched her, he’d lose control.
“Ryder—”
“How is it that you were able to disappear without a trace?” he asked at the same time she spoke.
Her brows crinkled in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I searched for you after our night together,” he explained. Searched was an understatement. More like obsessively hunted for her. “No one who worked for the conference knew who you were or what company you worked for.”
“That’s because at the time, I technically didn’t work for McKay.” She squirmed and dropped her gaze to her lap. “I was an intern.”
“An intern,” he said, unable to keep the skepticism from his voice.
“Yes.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Was she lying? If so, why lie about that?
He rubbed his hand down his cheek, catching the scent of Jane’s pussy on his fingers. His cock swelled beneath his zipper. “My father sent an intern to the conference? He would never do that.” Sure, Ciara had been dating Finn at the time, but Keane wasn’t the type of person to do anyone—even his own kids—any favors.
Unless he got something in return.
So, what the hell would he get out of sending Jane to the conference?
Ryder couldn’t stop himself from thinking the worst.
She lifted her gaze. “Well, he did,” she said tightly. “In fact, he’s the one who offered me the internship in the first place. He took the initiative of calling Dean Lancaster—”
