My pussy clenched at the idea of his getting off on watching me.
He levered up, running his fingers through my hair, which had to be a wild mess.
“Your hair is a sexy…wanton.” He kissed me, going in hard and deep, making me moan. “You taste divine. Yep, you’re a goddess.”
I wondered, for a moment, if he talked to all his women like this. The thought made my guard go up. I wasn’t special. I was just another notch.
“Don’t leave me, Katrina,” he said, giving me a small shake.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, confused by his statement.
“Maybe not here,” he said, rubbing a finger over my clit making me gasp. “But up here.” The index finger on his other hand tapped my temple. “Let go, baby. Just feel. You’re safe with me.”
His words both comforted and bothered me. They were a reminder that I didn’t like to let go. I liked control. They also highlighted that I didn’t always feel safe with him, although I knew that was more my issue than his. Then again, he did use my poems against me. Would he tell his friends that I was a bad lay?
Except he said he didn’t mean to hurt me by using the poems.
“Katrina,” his voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Fuck me.”
I stared into his blue eyes and could only see sincerity and need. His dick was thick and hot and throbbing inside me.
I rocked over him, and he groaned, laying back on the bed. “Yes. So good.”
I pushed away all the crazy thoughts in my head and instead focused on physical sensation. The way his dick felt inside me, pulsing with life. The way his fingers would squeeze and loosen on my thighs as I began to move. The way his breath picked up and his hips moved with me.
Soon, I was lost in the sensation of him inside me. Of his words, dirty and sexy urging me on. Of my orgasm building and building, coiling until I hovered on the edge.
“Make me come, baby…ah fuck…I’m coming.”
His hips shot up, his dick sliding in, and hitting me just the right way. My orgasm blasted out, making me cry out as it shot to every neuron in my body.
“Yes…yes…more,” he gasped, his hips bucking wildly underneath me as I rode him hard and fast to wring out every last drop of pleasure.
I collapsed on him, my head resting on his chest as I worked to catch my breath.
“You’re fucking amazing,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
I wasn’t sure I could believe him, but I appreciated the sentiment. At the very least, I felt fucking amazing.
We lay there for some time, his fingers gently rubbing my back. Sated, soothed, my eyes closed and sleep came.
I woke with a start, feeling disoriented. I looked around the room. That was right, I was at Ryder’s house. I was naked and my muscles were a little sore, like after a workout. I shot up to sit as I realized I’d had sex with Ryder.
I looked around, but he wasn’t in bed. Did I dream it?
The scent of bacon caught my attention. Was it morning? Was I late for work? I looked at my watch and discovered it was the evening. I slipped out of bed and grabbed my robe. I followed the scent to the kitchen where Ryder, looking way too sexy shirtless in faded jeans, was cooking. He whistled as he used tongs to remove the bacon to drain on a paper towel.
He turned and looked at me. “Nice nap?”
I could feel the heat on my cheeks as I blushed thinking about my nap. “Better than usual.”
He winked. “Have a seat. If you’re like me, you worked up a powerful hunger.”
I was hungry. I went to the table, noting the mismatched places and cutlery, but this time I thought it held a certain charm. Country kitsch.
He brought over a platter with eggs, bacon, and toast. “Dig in.”
“If the bartending thing doesn’t work out, you have a future as a short-order chef,” I said.