“Really,” he said. “That’s what you’re going with.”
“Do you want to be ravaged or not?”
“When you put it like that, I might need a moment to think about it.”
“You’re impossible,” I said with a scowl.
“Sam,” Ryan said. “I am naked in our bed waiting for you to screw me. I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be talking right now.”
“What about dirty talking?”
“I don’t want to know what you want me to do to your ear hole.”
I shoved my trousers and underpants to the ground. “Sex god,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Come on, sex god. Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Bossy fucking bottom,” I grumbled as I kicked my feet out of my trousers.
“Sam,” he said, and he sounded a little desperate again. “Come over here and screw me.”
When Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart makes such a demand, one does not hesitate. And no, I didn’t trip and almost fall into the bed, no matter what anyone said. And if Ryan did say anything like that, he was a fucking liar and I would spank the shit out of him later.
He was laughing by the time I pulled myself on top of him, his arms still above his head. He spread his legs a little more, just enough to make room for me to lie on top of him. His eyes fluttered shut as I pressed my weight against him, cock to cock, chest to chest. I reached up and grabbed both of his wrists with one hand, holding him in place, and his breaths came in short little bursts. We were under no illusions that I could hold him in place; if he wanted to get up from under me, he would. But he didn’t, and that was key. He wanted to be held down, wanted to feel like someone else was in control. He’d told me this in fumbling fits and starts, blushing terribly as he looked down at his hands. “We don’t have to do it,” he’d mumbled. “I’m just happy I get to have you at all.”
And what the hell was I supposed to do in the face of that?
Everything I could, obviously.
And it just so happened our kinks lined up for the most part, no matter how vanilla they were. We weren’t Gary and Kevin (oh my gods how we weren’t Gary and Kevin), but we did okay.
And there was the fact that I would have given Ryan just about anything he could ask for. I could admit to still being a little starry-eyed when the thought crossed my mind that,
out of everyone in the world, he wanted me the most, enough to break an oath he made in the name of his mother.
I kissed him, and he made this little noise in the back of his throat, soft and wounded, pressing his hands up against mine, testing how far I’d let him go. I tightened my grip as I controlled the kiss, grinding my hips down against his, letting the slick friction from the oil on his dick rub against my own. He gasped into my mouth, and I swallowed it down, my tongue against his.
I pulled away, watching as he lifted his head, trying to chase the kiss. He frowned when he couldn’t get very far, pupils dilated until there was only the faintest ring of green. “Come on, Sam, please,” he said. “Come on.”
“Not yet,” I said, pushing my hips forward again. “You can hold on for just a little bit longer, can’t you?”
He shook his head back and forth.
“I think you can,” I said, squeezing his wrists tighter, the way I knew he liked.
He tried to buck his hips up, but I pushed them back again, his dick sliding against my stomach as I rolled myself down again.
“I’m ready,” he panted. “I promise. I’m ready.”
I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his. I kissed my way down his jaw to his neck. He turned his head to allow me better access. I sucked on the skin near his collarbone, just low enough that I knew any mark would be hidden by his uniform. That was a lesson learned the first time we started this thing between us. Not only was it unprofessional (which Morgan scolded me for while the King just laughed at me), but Ryan’s knights weren’t exactly a subtle bunch, and they gave him as much crap as they possibly could.
He was begging me for more, begging me to fuck him, to just fuck him godsdammit, and I knew he’d reached his breaking point. The lovely flush had crawled down his neck to his chest and stomach, skin overheating as he tried to wriggle against the friction.
“Just fucking get on with it,” he snarled at me, teeth bared. “Just fucking do it if you’re going to do it, gods.”
And oh. Oh. That’s how it was going to be. He was goading me, and he knew I knew, but I was too far gone to care. It gave me something back, lording over him like this, making him squirm until he was pleading for me to fuck him. I don’t know why, and I certainly hadn’t expected anything between us to bloom like this.
But it did, and he was provoking me.