He panted a bit before he got the words out.
"All the way." It was almost a plea.
"You wanna fuck my mouth fast and deep?" I added with a wicked grin, knowing that was exactly how Ryan liked it.
"Fuck, yes," he breathed above me, his hand coming up and cupping my cheek, tilting my head, the other already fisting in my hair.
"Me too," I said on a breath of expelled air as he guided his tip to my lips. I tasted pre-come. I tasted him. The broad ridge at the top slipped over my lips, the flesh like silken steel as he smoothed over my tongue.
Then with one guttural grunt, centred in the middle of his chest, he pushed forward, testing to see how far I'd take him on that first pump. I swallowed as he went deep, he swore again, his hands shaking. Then when he was certain I was ready for him, he started a rhythm, established a sensual glide in and soft, slow withdraw. His breaths came in short huffs, his lips parted on little moans mixed with sexy grunts, and his hips rocked hypnotically before me, as his cock fucked my mouth.
It was sublime. I was lost in his little noises, in the shaking of his limbs, in the rapid beat of his pulse in his wrist, in the hunger and love that shone in his eyes. The taste of him. The feel of him. The sight and sound of him. It was pure bliss. I couldn't get enough.
And although he went fast and deep, he constantly watched me with an intensity that bordered on manic. Every reaction I had, he catalogued. Every response I gave, he altered to accommodate my wants or likes. He never pushed too far, he paced himself to match my hunger, my need, my desire. All the while he lost himself in my mouth.
I felt him swell, I felt him falter. His breaths stuttered, the grunts became urgent, and just as his grip in my hair tightened and the look he gave me turned up the heat in the room by about five hundred degrees, his fucking cellphone went off.
He swore blue murder, started to pull back, and even though I knew who was on the other end of that call, and even though I knew what it would be about, I gripped his hips, pulled him back into me and scraped his length with my teeth, offering a small nip at the top on the way back out.
Fucking hell. He detonated. His cry of surprise segued into a raunchy grunt as he collapsed jerkily forward, somehow managing to slip from my lips instead of going deeper in my mouth. His hand was on the base of his cock already, so he stroked - once, twice - and in a mesmerizing erotic display came all over the side of the bath, and over me.
"Fuck," he breathed out above me, his finger dipping into his release on my upper chest. "Sorry," he muttered, I just raised my brow. "Not sorry?" he said on a laugh, reaching for his still ringing cellphone.
I held his eyes as he swiped the call open, one hand wrapped around his cock still, the other coated in his release from my chest and on the phone. He licked his lips, cleared his throat and said, "Pierce."
I held my breath, absently ran my hand over my chest, Ryan's eyes tracking the move with a decidedly masculine satisfied air, and then they came back up to mine.
"Well, that just turned a fucking fantastic day into a fucking stellar one," he declared, eyes still locked on mine.
"What?" I mouthed, but my lips barely moved. He leaned down, phone still to his ear and kissed me deeply. I was sure Dominic would have heard the sounds.
When he pulled back he was beaming. "I'll tell her. Thanks, Dom," he said, closing the call with another thumb swipe. He threw the phone onto the chair in the corner and then leaned over the bath, his jeans halfway down his legs, his semi-hard cock jutting out proudly between us, glistening with his release, matching my chest.
"You're free," he announced, kicking off his shoes, yanking off his socks, following that with a quick removal of his t-shirt, jeans and trunks. Then he stepped into the water between my legs, sank beneath the waves and wrapped his arms around my waist.
Chest to chest, face to face, he said, "Did you hear me? They've cleared you of any culpability, thanked you for your assistance, and they're sure the ledger alone will be enough."
"Enough?"
His hand came up and brushed my hair aside gently, then wrapped around the side of my neck with care.
"Enough to send Roan McLaren away for a very long time, and from the sounds of it, most of the upper echelon of New Zealand's criminal society. They're calling this the biggest coup for the legal system in NZ in one-hundred-and-fifty years. All because of you."
"Wow."
"Wow," he repeated. "You happy?"
I nodded.
"You OK?"
I smiled. Another nod.
"You realised you want it yet?"
For a second I just stared at him, then his lips tipped up in that wicked smirk.
"A man's gotta take his chances when he sees them," he whispered, hot breath against my lips. "I might have caught you at a weak, euphoric moment," he added.