Forbidden Heir (The Heirs 8)

Ryker’s hands still, and then he lifts his eyes to mine. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”

Shaking my head, emotion pushes up my throat. “When I fell in love with you, I thought it was because you were so damn handsome. Turns out that wasn’t the case. It was the strength I saw in you. Most men would run for the hills when they find out the woman they’ve been dating for five weeks has cancer. But not you.”

“Most men are idiots,” he mutters.

“Also true,” I chuckle. “Still, you’re incredible, Ryker.”

He adds the chicken to the salad, and after plating our food, he washes his hands. “You know what, I’m totally taking the compliment,” he tries to joke it away. Turning back to me, he asks, “Where do you want to eat?”

“Out on the patio.” I get up and grab two bottles of water from the fridge.

Ryker brings our food, and he waits for me to sit down before he hands me my plate. “Looks yummy,” I murmur, even though I don’t have much of an appetite these days. My weight has dropped, so I eat whatever Ryker prepares. I can’t stomach anything heavy or spicy, which means I’ve been living on salads, soups, and fruit.

While we’re eating, I mention, “I’m thinking of returning to work when I start with chemo.”

Ryker stills, and he takes a deep breath before he replies, “Let’s wait and see how you feel after your first chemo treatment.”

Tilting my head, I ask, “Are you always this protective, or is it just because I’m sick?” Then I remember how he was in Cape Town and the weeks after we got home. “The answer is always, right?”

He lets out a chuckle. “Pretty much.” He spears a strip of chicken then glances at me. “Does it bother you?”

I shake my head. “Not at all.”

“Good,” he murmurs.

It begins to rain, and we watch the drops falling from the sky while we finish eating. When we take our plates back inside, I place them in the dishwasher. As I straighten up, Ryker’s arms wrap around me from behind. Turning around in his hold, I rest my arms on his biceps, and then I look up.

Seeing the love Ryker feels for me written in his eyes makes my abdomen tighten, but it fades quickly when I remember what I look like.

“Thanks for lunch,” I whisper as I push up on my toes. I press a quick kiss to his mouth, and when I try to pull away, he tightens his hold on me.

When I lower my eyes to his neck, Ryker asks, “Why do you do that?”

I glance up quickly before looking away. “What?”

“You’ve been getting uncomfortable when I touch you.”

My gaze flies back to his. “I don’t.” Ryker tilts his head, and it has me admitting, “I look like a damn fish.” A frown instantly forms on his forehead. “I don’t feel attractive,” I mutter.

Ryker moves a hand up to the side of my neck. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?”

I nod.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “One hell of a bad-ass woman. God, Danny. You’re beating cancer. Give yourself some credit.”

“I know,” I mumble. “But I still look like a fish.”

Ryker takes hold of my hand and pushes it down between us until my palm rubs over his erection. My eyes snap up to his.

“Do I need to make it any clearer that you’re still as beautiful as you were two months ago?”

I shake my head, and when Ryker lowers his head, I begin to slowly rub my palm over his bulge. Desire trickles through my veins as his mouth hovers over mine. “How do you feel?”

“Like a woman who needs her man to fuck her,” I murmur, and it has him crashing his mouth to mine.

His hands frame my jaw as his tongue thrusts into my mouth, stroking hard against mine.

I work to unfasten his belt, and when I finally have his hard length free, I begin to stroke it as my desperation for him spirals out of control.

Ryker makes quick work of my sweatpants, and then he lifts me onto the kitchen table. The kiss is filled with hunger as he pushes inside me with one hard thrust. I let out a satisfied moan against his lips, my hands moving up his back until my fingers weave through his thick hair.

I’ve missed him.

So much.

Ryker breaks the kiss and, pressing his forehead to mine, our eyes lock as he begins to thrust harder. His hands grab hold of my hips to keep me in place, and seeing the naked hunger on his face makes my orgasm build at the speed of light.

Moans begin to drift over my lips, and it makes his features tighten until he looks primal.

I slump back on the table, and then my body tightens as a powerful orgasm rips through me, stealing my ability to breathe.