by Shelly Bell
She felt as though she was both spinning and floating at the same time. If his body hadn’t been pressed against hers, she was certain she would have crumbled to the floor.
He tore his mouth from hers and whirled her around so that she faced the wall. “Your safe word is red. Don’t hold back if you need to use it.” He reached around her torso and with a hard tug, tore open her blouse. Buttons scattered. “Clothes off.”
He didn’t give her the chance to undress herself before the blouse was sliding down her shoulders, baring her naked back to him. The rough stubble on his face abraded the length of her spine as he sank to his knees and quickly removed her pants so that she stood in front of him wearing nothing but her panties.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I would have worn sexier underwear if I’d known you were going to rip my clothes off of me.”
He cupped her ass in his hands and kneaded it like it was clay. “You underestimate the power of plain white cotton. It’s sexy as fuck. At least on your ass. But they’re in my way.” In one deft motion, he whipped her panties down her legs.
Cool air drifted over her exposed skin.
A quick nip to her butt cheek and he was up on his feet, his arm banded around her chest. He marched her over to the unusual chair and pushed her onto it. Made of dark wood, the chair was padded with black leather both on the thin panel that supported her back and on the seat. It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it wasn’t exactly a chair she’d offer to a guest. Especially since there was a hole in the seat. Still, she had no idea what he could possibly do to her while she was sitting with her legs together.
Eyes dark as twilight, he circled around the chair as if he was wondering what to do with her. He didn’t fool her for a second.
He’d known exactly what he planned to do before he’d forced her into the chair.
She startled at the sudden jostle of the chair. From behind her, Ryder seized one arm of it and lifted it to shoulder level. Leather wrapped around her biceps, securing her to a horizontal piece of padded wood. After Ryder repeated the action with the other arm, he kneeled on the floor in front of her, where he bound her ankles to the front of the chair’s legs.
Looming over her, he licked his lips. Her gaze dropped to the large bulge in the placket of his pants. She’d never get over having the ability to arouse him. It did something to her. Gave her a rush of adrenaline that shot through her heart to settle between her thighs. Although she was naked, she grew hot all over.
A snarl played at the corner of his mouth. He bent at the waist to grip the top of her thighs, putting his face at eye level. Holding her captive by the intensity of his gaze, he snapped her legs apart, spreading them as wide as possible, and then tipped the entire chair back so that she was looking up at the ceiling.
In that position, she could keep nothing hidden. Ryder would become intimately acquainted with her innermost secrets.
She was on full display.
Her heart thumped wildly as a tendril of fear snaked through her abdomen.
Fear.
She was starting to feel again.
Heat suffused her as he kneeled between her thighs and stared. The longer he stayed like that, not speaking, not touching, the more uncomfortable it made her. It was humiliating to be that exposed and helpless. Even more so because her arousal was trickling out of her.
His warm breath whispered along the insides of her thighs, light as a feather. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
She snorted. “I’m not sure beautiful is the right word to describe what you’re looking at right now.”
“You’ve never gotten to see your pussy up close and personal. You’ll have to trust me on this. You. Are. Beautiful.” He kissed one inner thigh and then the other. “Inside and out.”
Smiling devilishly, he stood and walked to the corner of the room, where he retrieved a small leather bag off a table. After returning to her side, he bent and took out a bottle of lube and a pink item she didn’t recognize. Narrow at the top, it progressively widened along its length. He squirted an obscene amount of lube on it until it glimmered from its slickness.
Suddenly, she realized the purpose of the item and the reason for the hole in the chair. “There’s no way that’s gonna fit.”
“Oh, it will fit,” he said, dripping cold lubrication between her ass cheeks. “But if you truly don’t want this, you can use your safe word.”
The word red was on the tip on her tongue, but then she thought about their shower and how hard she’d come when he’d slipped his pinky into her behind.
“I’m not using my safe word. I want this. But I don’t want the plug. I want your cock.”
Ryder’s pupils dilated and his eyes grew hooded. “I want my cock in there too, baby. But I have to stretch you first with the plug so that I don’t hurt you.”
He teased her with the tip of it, rubbing the lube into the sensitive skin there and making her muscles involuntarily clench. “Just relax and breathe.” On that, he started slowly pushing the rigid piece of plastic inside of her.
Her body flushed as she yearned to touch herself in order to relieve the growing ache in her core. But she couldn’t. All she could do was sit there and take whatever he chose to give her. She wanted to say it hurt, but if she did, she’d be lying. There was pressure and a burn and wait. She moaned and her eyes rolled back in her head as Ryder slid the plug back and forth, awakening nerves that had never been touched. She found herself trying to push her body toward it, but the restraints held her immobile.
The sensations rolling through her reminded her of when she’d lost her virginity. There had been a fullness then, too, and even a bit of pain as she’d become accustomed to being stretched. But discomfort and pain had turned to pleasure once he’d moved his cock in and out.
She hissed as the burning increased.
Maybe it wasn’t exactly the same as when she’d lost her virginity.
But even as it burned, her clitoris began to throb relentlessly as if it had its own little heart beating inside of it. All her nerves flickered to life like a match to a candle. The stretch, the burn, it all intertwined until she could barely catch her breath from the overwhelming need to come.
He tapped the end of the plug a couple of times. “How’s that feel?”
Thoughts floated in her mind, but she couldn’t translate them into words. Instead, all that came out was another moan.
“Fuck.” He took a step back and admired his work. “It looks sexy as hell. But I think you’re missing something.” He went back into the bag and pulled out another pink object, one she recognized.
This time, he didn’t bother with the lube.
She didn’t need it.
She was already sopping wet and ready to be fucked.
He dragged the dildo over her lips. “I bought this a couple days ago hoping you’d give me the chance to use it on you.”
Her core quivered at the thought of him picking out sex toys specifically for her. And then he started inching the dildo into her and she wasn’t thinking of anything except how was he going to get it all the way inside her with the plug making her channel tighter than normal.
“Breathe, sweet Jane. I promise I wouldn’t give you this if I didn’t think you could take it.”
She sucked in a breath through her nose and tried to relax, but the growing tension in her belly from the double penetration didn’t make it easy. It was similar to the feeling she’d get right before she climaxed yet sharper. More intense. At the same time, it wasn’t going to be enough to push her over. Instead, as he slid the entire dildo inside her, she hovered on the precipice of something larger than an orgasm. Her limbs stiffened and shook uncontrollably.
But apparently Ryder wasn’t done with her. He strode over to the wall and walked the length of it, trying to decide what instrument to use to torture her next. After making his choice, he returned to her with a black crop in his hands.
He didn’t give her the chance to pan
ic before he smacked the top of her mound with it. She clenched around the objects inside of her, sending a wave of heat through her core, and her body jolted as if electrified. The crop rained down. Each cheek. Her thighs. Her labia. Her clit. Her nipples. Over and over until she was a throbbing, writhing mess of pure sensation.
Each slap of the crop was like a balm to her ragged soul. Not because it hurt. It was nothing she couldn’t handle. But because she could feel more than the physical. As Ryder turned her skin pink, every blocked emotion bubbled to the surface and boiled over.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and a sob escaped her chest. As the need to come increased, she couldn’t hold anything back. Pain. Pleasure. Fear. Rage. Sorrow. Grief. All of it poured out.
Ryder dropped the crop to the floor with a thud and wedged himself between her thighs, covering her bare skin with his still-clothed body. He wiped away the tears from her face and kissed her gently on the mouth, his demeanor changing from dominating to comforting. It was as if she’d been a piece of glass that he’d shattered into pieces, and now with every slide of his lips, the touch of his thumb over the pulse point on her neck, and the caress of his tongue along hers, he was putting her back together again.
His kiss meant everything. He was breathing new life into her and all of her cells buzzed in celebration. She was ready for him. Ready to be claimed in the most primal of ways.
And when he took a step back and removed his clothes, she knew he was ready too.
His gaze stayed on hers as he rolled on a condom and added a generous amount of lube to the length of him. He carefully pulled out the dildo first, making her core clench and release several times. Then the plug was gone and with a quick adjustment, he tilted the chair to put her at the right angle for his cock.
He didn’t pause. Didn’t give her more than a moment to process the emptiness before he was pushing himself into her. He was much larger than the plug, stretching her almost beyond her capacity, and she didn’t think she’d ever been more aroused. Her clit felt as if it had grown to ten times its size and her inner walls seemed to rub against each other as his cock took up space inside her body. There was a burn. Pressure.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said through clenched teeth. Sweat dripped down his neck, and the muscles of it bulged as if strained with tension.
She wanted to lick that sweat clean off. “You don’t have to go slow. I’m—”
She didn’t get the rest of the words out before he closed his eyes and drove himself fully into her. Leaning forward until they were chest to chest, he grabbed on to the arm boards and began fucking her ass, each thrust bringing his pelvis into direct contact with her engorged bundle of nerves.
An inferno of tension blazed in her lower belly. His mouth took hers in a brutal kiss that branded her as his and made it clear that he was claiming her. Possessing her. Owning her. They were two slick bodies on the cusp of something larger than themselves.
She had Ryder’s cock in her ass and yet she’d never felt so safe. So cherished. So…
Loved.
Her tears came harder now and she let out a sob.
Between kisses, he made his demands. “Let it out, sweet Jane, and surrender. Give me your tears. Your worries. Your climax. I want it all. Right. Fucking. Now.”
She broke.
There was no other word for it.
Head to toe, she shook as hot pleasure flooded her core and blasted outward to every muscle, every vein, every organ. Especially her heart. She had to bite down on her lip to keep from saying the words that repeated over and over in her head: I love you. I love you. I love you.
“I can feel your ass clenching around my dick,” Ryder mumbled against her mouth. “It’s too good. I can’t hold back.” On the next thrust, he threw his head back and surrendered to his climax.
Overcome with exhaustion, she closed her eyes.
She couldn’t love him.
Not yet.
It was too soon.
Wasn’t it?
TWENTY-TWO
Since having Maddox, Jane was used to being awoken by the slightest of noises. Her eyes flew open and she bolted up in bed. Was Maddox crying? It was still night, the moon still looming large and bright in the sky. She was confused by the feel of the sheets on her naked skin until she remembered she was in Ryder’s bed.
She had a vague recollection of Ryder tending to her. He’d carried her upstairs and placed her in a warm bath to soak her sore muscles and other areas and later rubbed some cream into her skin as she lay on the bed. And when Maddox had woken up hungry, Ryder had taken care of him and allowed her to sleep.
Which meant it was too early for Maddox to have another bottle. She waited for him to cry out again, but the monitor was silent. Sometimes he would cry and immediately fall back to sleep.
Too bad she wasn’t as lucky. Once she was up, it would take her at least fifteen minutes to relax enough to do the same.
She rested her head on the pillow and flipped on her side toward Ryder. The moon gave enough light that she could see the outline of him.
Flat on his back, he slept restlessly, his body twitching and his head turning from side to side.
She placed her hand on his chest and whispered a “shush,” just as she did with Maddox sometimes. It seemed to do the trick. On a large sigh, his body stilled.
Thanks to Ryder, yesterday’s horrible events were clear in her mind, but she was no longer a prisoner to them. Crying in Ryder’s arms had cathartically washed away the guilt she’d been holding inside. Her heart still ached for Dreama, but there was also fierce determination to punish the one or ones responsible.
But in freeing her emotions, Ryder had opened the floodgates. Her late-night revelation had thrown her for a loop. She certainly cared about him, but was it love?
They had so many hurdles to jump over before they could even talk about something permanent. He’d professed that he wanted to be a part of both hers and Maddox’s lives and earlier tonight had pronounced his ownership of her.
But what was to prevent him from changing his mind once he really got to know them? What made him different from Ciara or Ian?
Loving him would only make it that much harder when he left.
Whimpering, Ryder rolled to his side and curled into a ball. “Él es mío, no tuyo! Él es mío, no tuyo!”
Was he speaking Spanish?
There was so much she didn’t know about him.
She sat up and inched closer to his side, brushing his arm reassuringly. “Shhh.”
He thrashed around violently. “Nothing happened. It was a dream. You belong to me,” he yelled over and over.
She’d heard that you shouldn’t wake someone from a nightmare, but she couldn’t stand to watch him suffer. Kneeling over him, she gently shook him to coax him awake. “Ryder. It’s Jane. You’re having a nightmare.”
He whimpered like a wounded puppy before growing completely still. “Jane?” he asked in a voice thick with sleep.
She ran her fingers through his hair in an effort to soothe him and found him drenched with sweat. “Sorry to wake you but you were having a nightmare.”
There was such a long pause that she almost thought he’d fallen back to sleep. “Yeah. I get them sometimes,” he said quietly. “Thanks for waking me. I’m sorry I woke you. I’m fine now. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not tired and don’t apologize for waking me. That seemed like much more than a nightmare. You were talking in your sleep. I think you even spoke some Spanish.”
He jackknifed up in bed, pulling the blankets off both of them. “I did? What did I say?”
“I don’t speak Spanish, so I’m not sure, but you kept repeating, ‘It was just a dream. Nothing happened. You belong to me.’” She waited a beat and, when he said nothing, asked, “Does that mean anything to you?”
He reached over to his nightstand and flicked on the lamp. Light flooded the room, momentarily blinding her.
“I haven’t had that nightmare in
ages, but I used to,” he said, his voice sounding as if he’d swallowed sandpaper. “Every night. For years and years.” He shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “I think seeing Dreama like that after her attack might have triggered it. The blood…”
Since watching Wizard of Oz as a small child, she’d suffered recurrent nightmares about tornadoes, but each one was different. She’d never heard of having the same nightmare over and over. And to have it for years?
She stroked his back. “Sometimes they say talking about your nightmares can make them go away. Would you tell me about it?”
Body trembling, he shuddered and blew out a breath. She wanted to be there for him like he’d been there for her. But at the same time, she didn’t want to push him if he wasn’t ready.
Still, it twisted her insides to see him like this.
When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet she almost thought it was someone else speaking. He averted his gaze, keeping it trained on the blanket in front of him. “It started when I was around five, I guess? I don’t know. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have it, but Finn said that’s when I started climbing into bed with him because I was too scared to sleep alone.” He paused to take another deep, stuttered breath. “It’s always the same. My father is struggling with a woman who is screaming in Spanish. She says my name. There’s a loud bang and then she’s covered with blood. Keane stands over her with something in his hands. I think it’s a gun. And then she’s gone and I’m the one lying bloody on the floor.”
“Ryder, who is the woman in the nightmare?”
He raised his head and looked at her with red-rimmed eyes haunted with a child’s terror. “I think she was my mother.”
She instantly threw her arms around him and pulled him close, feeling his heart racing against her chest. No wonder he hated Keane. “Keane told me she’d died during childbirth in Mexico,” she told him. “That he’d loved her.”
