“No.” I try to relax enough to gulp some air.
“We shall see,” he murmurs in my ear.
When he thrusts his thick cock deep inside me, black dots dance before my eyes, even in the dark. He groans his approval.
Pulling out, he pounds into me again and grunts, “I’m gonna take you to the edge, my jewel. It’s up to you if you see God.”
And then the world I know ends as my body becomes his. In and out he penetrates me. My nipples tighten and almost painfully rub against his hard chest, leaving me gasping for air.
Blinking, I see everything differently, sense every exquisite way his cock thrusts into me, relish the smell of his skin, spice, and smoke. In his low and gravelly voice, he praises me while my body becomes his. I’m climbing, almost flying, and I know he’s sucked my soul out of me to keep as his.
Closing my eyes, I can feel only bliss, weightlessness, almost like having a cathartic experience.
“Fuck, baby, that’s my girl.” For some reason, he sounds proud.
Is this what happens after death? This exquisite pleasure is too otherworldly to happen in real life.
“Yeah, you got it, my love. It’s yours—take it.”
And I do. I soar. My body jerks, and my pussy pulses and contracts as I come.
Ecstasy.
Nirvana.
None of these words can describe this. I’m reborn, connected with him in the most primal way. His own body lets go.
“Fuck, Julianna.” He freezes, then jerks, his seed filling me as we ride this ultimate wave, between good and bad, life and death.
I think I’m screaming, “I love you” over and over as he holds me, kissing me while I reluctantly come back to this world.
“Shh, you’re gonna wake up Granger’s piece-of-shit security.” He grins and kisses me, then slowly pulls out, reaching over to grab the comforter.
I settle back into his arms.
“You okay?” He holds me tight.
My head rests against his chest where I can feel his strong heartbeat.
“That was, I can’t explain it, except that everything was heightened, and I went somewhere I’ve never been.” I look up at him.
His eyes are almost calm. The storm has passed.
“You’re fearless,” he says, almost in awe. “I felt it, baby. I was with you.” He kisses my forehead. And though I try to stay awake, I’ve experienced the best orgasm in the world and can’t help but let my eyes close while I listen to his even breathing.
Next thing I know, I hear water running. With a groan, I stretch, my eyes swollen as if I’ve had too much sleep or not enough. I reach for him.
Nothing. I lean up on my elbows and look around the room. It’s morning and the water is coming from the shower. Reaching over, I grab my phone and check the time. Eight thirty is not that early in the morning, so I drag myself up and smile like an idiot thinking about last night. That was… intense, incredible. I don’t even have the adjectives to describe it.
I need coffee, but I grab the remote and the TV slowly rises from the foot of the bed. The morning news is on. It’s become a habit for me to check it whenever I haven’t heard from Ryder, and I still do it on instinct. The shower turns off while the newscaster mentions that graphic pictures may be disturbing. Apparently, a bunch of Russians, assumed to be the Volkov mafia family, were gunned down at their homes last night.
Last night. My eyes shift over to the bathroom door where Ryder stands drying himself with the towel.
“Did you see this?” I point at the large TV with my toe.
He walks over and takes the remote from me, turning it off as he reaches down to kiss me.
“Good morning.” He smells like fresh spice, and for a distracting second, I almost wrap my arms around his neck.
“Ryder, those men were Russian mobsters. Did you do that?”
His eyes caress my face. “I told you last night, ask me no questions and I’ll tell you—”
“Stop.” I reach for his mouth. “Was that you?” I hold my breath, waiting, but he tosses the towel and jerks on his jeans.
“Get up, Julianna. We need to go. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do.”
I simply stare at him. Guess that’s my answer.
Oh my God. That’s my answer, whether he admits it or not. I’m not sure I’m more in shock that I saw that on TV, or the fact that after last night he won’t trust me enough with his secrets.
Tossing the covers off, I stand. “Ryder? You can’t expect me to not ask questions, especially when people are dying—strike that—being murdered.” I put my hands on my hips.
He turns and looks at me. “You can ask as many questions as you want.” His eyes rove over my body.