He bent me forward then and without warning, he entered me in one fluid motion. He moaned as I cried out, the feeling of fullness and delight consuming me.
This, I thought, this is everything.
Ryder withdrew from me slowly, hissing as he did so, before driving straight back in to the hilt.
“Omigod,” I screamed and arched my back.
Ryder’s hands dug into the flesh on my hips as he began a steady rhythm of fucking me. That’s what he was doing—he was fucking me, not making love.
He growled, “Fuck! I’ve missed pounding this pussy.” I moaned when he pumped harder. “So”—thrust—“fucking”—thrust—“much.”
I couldn’t think, let alone form a reply to that crude remark.
I gripped onto the bathroom counter and tried to form a coherent thought, but it was impossible to do with the mind-blowing sensations that my body was experiencing. If possible, this was definitely the best sex we had ever had, and it gutted me a little because it was just a primal frenzy between our bodies, there were no loving or comforting touches.
I accepted it for what it was though. It was sex, and toe curling sex at that.
“Branna,” Ryder groaned. “You feel fucking incredible.”
“Ditto,” I moaned as I bucked my hips back only for Ryder’s pelvis to slam into my behind causing vibrations to race up and down my spine.
Yes.
I yelped when a sting spread out over my behind. I heard the sound of the smack, I felt the bite of pain, but it took me a few seconds to release Ryder actually spanked me.
“Are you serious?” I rasped, pushing my behind back against him.
He laughed, and slapped my behind again.
“Ryder!” I shouted.
I wanted my voice to be firm, but it fell apart into a moan when he rotated his hips and hit a spot deep inside me that caused me to see stars.
“Right there,” I moaned.
Once I spoke the words of encouragement, Ryder became as still as a statue.
“No,” I cried out and tried to buck back to chase down my own release, but Ryder’s powerful hold on my hips prevented that from happening.
“Who is fucking you?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“What are you—”
“Who is fucking you?” he cut me off, his voice raised.
“You are,” I answered, shocked that his pissed off tone was making me hotter.
He rewarded me with a deep thrust.
I groaned.
“Whose pussy is this?” Ryder then asked, his tone stern.
“Please, just—”
He cut me off with a stinging slap to my behind that caused me to cry out with surprise.
“If you don’t answer me, I’ll hurt you so good.”
Part of me wanted to know what that entailed, but the sting I felt on my behind as Ryder’s hand caressed the sore flesh kept me from asking.
“It’s yours,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
Another deep thrust.
I moaned. “Yes.”
“Last question,” he murmured and leaned forward, placing his lips against my ear. “Who do you belong to?”
That was the easiest thing he had ever asked me.
“You, Ryder,” I replied, envisioning I was speaking to the man I first met in Darkness. “I belong to you. Always.”
“Damn. Fucking. Right.”
He proved his point then. He fucked me so hard he reminded me that he did, in fact, own me. Body, heart and soul. It was just a pity that he had no idea that he was shattering two out of the three.
Once he repeatedly drove into me, and didn’t stop, he made good on his promise and brought me intense satisfaction. Without warning, I was lost in bliss for a second time, and if it wasn’t for the counter under my upper body, or Ryder’s grip on my hips, I would have fallen to the floor in a satisfied heap.
“You okay?” he asked when I came down from my high.
I nodded against the marble my head rested on. “Yeah, I needed that.”
He snickered as he withdrew from me, but said nothing further as I heard him bin the condom I didn’t even know he put on. When he stepped away from me, a draft spread out over my behind and legs causing me to shiver. I straightened myself up and pulled my knickers and shorts up whilst doing so. I made sure not to look up into the mirror because I didn’t want to see what Ryder was doing, but I mainly didn’t want him to see the tears that filled my eyes.
I hated that I was getting upset. I didn’t want to cry anymore.
“I’ve to head out for the day,” he hesitantly said, “but can we do this again tonight?”
I blinked as I turned on the taps and pumped some soap onto my hands, washing them just to give me something to do.
“Where are you goin’?” I asked, although I knew I wouldn’t receive an honest answer.
Ryder cleared his throat and moved behind me, snaking his hands around my waist, and lowering his lips to my bare shoulder. “Just out, nowhere important.”
I tried not to focus on his touch, because it was about to open the dam in my eyes.
“Oh, I see.” I murmured.
Ryder moved his face to the side of my neck and rubbed his nose against the tender flesh of my sweet spot, then placed a kiss beneath my ear, directly on said spot. The action caused my tears to splash onto my cheeks, and a sob to get suck in my throat. He used to always kiss me there right before he told me he loved me.
The ‘I love you’ never came.
“So,” Ryder prompted, gaining my attention. “Can we have sex again tonight? I want to touch you some more.”
Or you want to come some more.
“Yeah, we can have sex again,” I replied, my voice as emotionless as a robot’s.
Having sex with him only hurt me more, but any form of touching him was better than nothing. Even though we were having serious problems, I still craved him.
Ryder gave me a squeeze. “Great, I’ll be counting down the hours until I’m home.”
My lower lip quivered. “Me too, Ry.”
He kissed the back of head, gave my behind a little tap then he practically skipped out of the bathroom and headed into our bedroom to dress.