With a loud whoop, I pull her in for a kiss. She responds immediately, her lips open, her tongue thrusting inside, and her teeth trapping my lower lip so I can’t retreat.
Desire boils my blood even as I cradle Paige’s face in my hands. Our lips are fused, our heartbeats synchronizing. I feel like we’re becoming a single unit that is greater than the sum of two people.
She pulls back and glances at the dinner table. “You think all this will still be okay if we microwave it later?”
“Most definitely.”
A wicked smile splits her face. “Then show me your room.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Paige
Ryder carries me to the second level, his eyes brilliant with desire. I clutch his wide shoulders, feeling the powerful muscles underneath the shirt. I’m almost afraid this is a dream, and I’m going to wake up and find myself alone in my room. My heart beats like it’s going to burst out of my chest, and I kiss him like I want to inhale him so he’ll always be a part of me.
In his room he puts me down. We are still kissing; he gently pushes me backward until my calves hit the cool wooden bed frame. My hands clutch him as the world slowly tilts…and then I’m on my back on the sheets, my legs dangling over the edge, knees bent.
Ryder rises up over me, his handsome face tight with need. Stepping out of his shoes, he takes off his clothes, the movements graceful. The muscles on his body are hard and strong, honed with meticulous care. My mouth parts. It’s hard to believe such a perfect man is mine.
Heat pulses through me as he strips my dress and underwear off with shaking hands. Everywhere his calloused fingers graze, goosebumps follow, leaving me shivery and weak with longing. I pull his face down for a kiss, my fingers tunneling into the warm silk of his hair.
Our tongues tangle, our mouths mold against each other, greedy and desperate. The kiss feels different now—sweeter and freeing. It’s as though all the barriers are gone, no fear or hesitation holding us back.
“You’re gorgeous,” he groans, running his lips down my neck, his breath fanning my hypersensitive skin. I feel it all the way to my core.
He plumps my breast in one large hand, weighing and studying the shape. He rolls the nipple between his fingers, and sensation hits me like a lightning bolt. I cry out, my back arching.
His mouth curves into the cockeyed grin that has broken millions of female hearts around the world. But not mine. Unlike the movies, there’s love in his eyes, direct and unconditional and true.
“Perfect.” He pulls the nipple into his mouth. His cheeks hollow as he sucks hard, and pleasure makes my skin prickle until I can barely lie still.
I’m so slick—dripping between my thighs. He drags the sensitive tip until it pops out of his mouth wetly. I whimper at the sharp pleasure.
He subjects the other nipple to the same erotic torture. It’s as though there’s a direct link between my nipples and my clit. I can feel every suck, every nip all the way to that tiny bundle of nerves.
Gently, he guides my hand between my legs. “Make yourself feel good,” he says against my hard, wet nipple. His warm breath on the sensitive peak has my blood boiling, and I cry out softly.
My eyes on his, I touch myself. My fingertips are immediately drenched, and he’s back to tormenting my oversensitive breasts. I rub my swollen clit; waves of electric pleasure ripples through me, and a sheen of sweat spreads over my tingling skin. But it’s not enough.
I pull away from him and move up on the bed. “I want you inside me, Ryder.”
“Happy to oblige. And I want to hear you come with my name on your lips.”
“It’s not about my pleasure,” I say. “It’s about us connecting in the most intimate way a man and a woman can. I want to feel you all the way inside me.” I cradle his heartbreakingly handsome face in my hands. “Don’t deny me. Please.”
His forehead touches mine. “I could never deny you.”
Bracing himself on his elbows, he positions himself between my legs. I spread my thighs, eager and waiting. He pushes inside, slowly, inch by agonizing inch. I brace my feet on the bed and tilt my hips in encouragement.
Our gazes lock. I feel like I’m peering into his soul as he hilts himself in me.
“God, you’re perfect,” he groans.
“So are you.”
“I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I’m all yours,” I whisper. “Forever.”
He pulls out and drives in. Every stroke rubs against the sensitive interior nerves, and with every thrust I sink a little bit deeper into a universe of pleasure. My hands dig into the strong muscles of his back, slick with sweat, and his name is a loving chant on my lips.