Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

I shivered with the promise of his words. Again caught off guard by this man who’d left me on unstable ground.

“I just want to make you feel good,” I whispered.

He was so hard. Every inch of him. From the clench of his jaw to the ripple of his stomach to his length that protruded and dipped and bounced in front of me.

The tip barely grazed my lips. My tongue flicked out and swept across the velvet flesh.

Rex hissed. “Fuck . . . Rynna. I can’t fucking do this. This is wrong. So fucking wrong.”

But instead of pushing me away, he tugged me closer. A raw groan escaped him when I wrapped both my hands around him at the base and sucked his crown into my mouth.

He rasped a curse and rocked forward. Control slipping. Control I somehow knew he used as a defense. As a way to keep everyone at arm’s length.

My tongue pressed at the underside of his cock, and I pulled him deeper.

Drawing him in.

Slowly.

Just as slowly as I began to work him with my hands.

And maybe I should have known I was in trouble when I began to shake. When the entire room spun at the feel of him. At the impact of him.

At the way I completely succumbed when he muttered, “That mouth,” as he hooked his fingertips below my jaw, drawing my eyes up to meet his.

His thumbs brushed the curve of my cheeks before he moved them to the edge of my lips. His eyes flashed with something tender. Soft and gentle.

Before something else entirely took them over. Something raw. Possessive. Intense.

His hips began to snap, jutting forward. He pressed himself deeper into my mouth. Filling me so full I struggled not to gag. So turned on I writhed where I knelt on the floor. The man so powerful I had to surrender.

“God . . . Ryn . . . Ryn . . . feels so good. Fuck . . . so good. That mouth.”

A flood of words poured from his mouth as he fucked mine.

Wildly.

Madly.

Greedily.

And God. I liked it. I liked it that he’d taken control. Liked that he stood over me, taking what I wanted to give. Liked that I held the power to make him moan.

I liked him.

I liked him so much. More than I should. In a way that was getting messy. In a way that was soft and fragile, breakable, as it spun the most complex web inside me. Strands of want and ribbons of need.

“Rynna . . .” He grunted my name, a deep, reverberating utterance that echoed the walls. I swallowed around him, taking him as deep as I possibly could. Every part of me ached. My jaw and my heart and that needy throb that begged at the juncture of my thighs.

His thrusts turned rough. Hard and demanding. “Harder . . . please . . . take it.”

I pumped him savagely, just as ruthlessly as he took my mouth, my hands picking up the same frantic rhythm as his assault.

And I could feel it. His balls tighten and lift. The ripple of his abdomen, those powerful thighs straining.

That electricity licked and lapped.

Striking.

“God damn it, Rynna. God damn it.”

His hips snapped twice more.

Frantic and frenzied.

Before every glorious inch of him went rigid. A tightly keening bow.

He pulsed with his orgasm, and his head kicked back on a guttural roar as he let himself go.

It was exactly what I’d wanted.

To see this man undone.

To get a glimpse of him with his walls toppled.

And the sight of it . . . the sight of it was magnificent.

His cock throbbed and jerked as he spilled into my mouth, and I gulped him down as I stared up at the ecstasy on his face.

Slowly he opened his eyes, but the same frenzy remained in them. Fire. He quickly lifted me from the floor. Before I could make sense of it, my bottom was balanced on the back of the sofa, my dress around my waist, his fingers spreading me.

Filling me.

His eyes were desperate as he stroked me deep. I moaned as he fucked me with his fingers, his thumb bringing me to ecstasy.

So fast.

So fast I was shocked by the bliss that exploded in my body. A flashflood that came out of nowhere.

Laying me to waste.

My fingers dug into his shoulders as I came. Wave after wave.

He slowed, panting, eyes wild. He stepped back as if he couldn’t make sense of what had just happened between us, slowly lowering my feet to the ground.

“God damn it.” His words cracked.

I sagged, holding onto the back of the couch for support. Spent. Drained. Confused.

He was quick to tuck himself back into his jeans. Looking everywhere but at me, he roughed agitated hands through his hair. “God damn it. God damn it. Friends. Friends. What bullshit.”