Defy (Brothers of Ink and Steel Book 3)(50)

“Make love to me, Ryder.” It’s all I can do to get the words out in a breathy moan.

His tongue plunges between my lips, discovering the taste of my mouth. He rubs it over my tongue and the roof of my mouth before bringing it over the sensitive flesh of my lips, wetting them for his service and then crushing me forcefully, body on body, mouth on mouth, lips and tongues transformed to demanding, fiery lashes—whipping us into frenzy.

The fingers of Ryder’s right hand work steadily to unclasp the buckle and his pants, keeping us apart, while the index finger and thumb of his left tortures one of my pink taut nipples.

I listen to the cadence of his breath as his jeans slip to his ankles. He curves his free hand over my throat, forcing the tilt of my head with his firm grip on the arc of my jawbone, while gentle fingertips stroke my pulse point.

With the access he’s gained from the position of my head, he lunges deeper into my mouth, using his wet tongue to swipe over the back of my throat. He stays just above the gag reflex for my comfort while mimicking what it would feel like to have his delicious cock in my mouth.

Exquisite tension like a hot ball of fire in the pit of my belly heats my most sensitive place, and I unthinkingly spread my legs to rub against him, needing the friction to relieve the pressure.

“Oh f*ck,” Ryder groans in my mouth. The trembling of his tongue makes me almost come.

His left hand slides from my breast, down my belly—torturously slowly.

“I want my tongue right . . . here,” he purrs in a low tone as the tips of his deft fingers dance through my slit and over my nub of overly sensitive nerves while he simultaneously glides his beautiful tongue down the arch of the roof of my mouth as if it were between the folds of my very wet arousal.

My body begs him for more as I grind against his fingers. A needy moan rips through my throat as he continues to stroke and lick and pet—the tender skin of my neck, the darkness of my mouth, and my aching, tingling center.

Ryder’s fingers advance, and he sinks one inside of me. I cry out and my knees begin to buckle.

“You’re mine, Rachel.” The low vibration of the murmur from his own mouth to mine pulses shockwaves through my entire body.

He keeps my head pinned against the wall as his own dips down to my breast. He licks around the hardened peak then flicks his tongue over it. Each lash sends a jolt of electricity like a lightning strike directly to my clit—which he is expertly and excruciatingly avoiding—building me up like a weak house of cards, sure to quake and shatter under the power of his say so.

My back arches; I’m intoxicated, waiting for more.

He sucks my nipple into the heat of his mouth. “I’m going to devour you.”

Oh my God! Where the hell did he learn to speak and purr in that deep, vibrating tone against each erogenous zone? It makes my body mind-blowingly reactive.

He spreads my legs and lifts me so my exposed, soaking wet arousal glides effortlessly over his steel nine pack abs. Without missing a beat, he grabs hold of the other pleading, neglected nipple with his lips while he grips my thighs in his firm strong hands and maneuvers my trembling, weak body in tight circles, rubbing my hypersensitive and oh so responsive clit against his rippling muscles.

My whole being hums with a spreading energy that moves out from my core, through my belly, shooting explosive tingles into my arms and legs, fingers and toes.

“I’m going to . . .”—I tense before the moment utterly engulfs me—“come.”

I surge and swell and rush into the tide of Ryder’s making. My physical form is overcome, and I fall apart in his arms.

“Oh, Jesus Christ! You’re gorgeous, Farrington.”

Ryder snakes a supporting arm under my ass as his other hand buries underneath my hair at the nape of my neck and he pulls me into a soul awakening kiss.

The words I love you flit through my mind, but I swallow them back, knowing they would ruin the moment with too much sentimentality. This unparalleled experience is organic, and I want it to stay that way.

This may not be forever, I tell myself, but it is a lifetime contained in a moment.





Chapter Twelve



Ryder





Her body is my holy grail, my Ark of the Covenant—a holy, priceless treasure that I’ve searched for and waited for all of my life.

I lay her on the bed and spread my body over hers. I crush her delicious tits beneath the strength of my chest, and they feel incredible.

“Say my name again,” she says.

“Rachel.” I let the heat of my breath caress the inner curves of her ear.

Her body shivers with goosebumps.

I feel a wicked grin spread across my face. I’m going to live out my fantasies—the thoughts of what I would do to her if I ever had her under me—the sexual cravings that could only be relieved by stroking myself off so many times while wishing she was there.

With the flutter of my tongue, the press of my lips and the pinch of my teeth, I work the flesh underneath the bend of her neck, over her shoulder and down the length of her arm. I pay attention to each hitched breath and tiny whimper as I swirl my tongue in the crease of her elbow and linger on her inner wrist.

As I go, I push my steel against the door of her pillow softness.

She whines, “Please, do it.”

“Hmm . . . I fully intend on it.”