Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(53)



His breath slips past his lips on a shaky exhale. “Fucking say that again.”

My eyebrows pull together. “I don’t want to—”

“No. The other.”

I inhale deeply. “I want you.”

The words have barely hit the span of air between us before he’s captured the last one with his mouth. I reel back from the impact, but rebound on him just as forcefully and greedy. All reservation has flown, evaporated, like the mist coming off the ocean.

We fall back, Ryder lowering us to the ground, keeping me atop him. My knees dig into the sand as I bear down, getting as close to him as our bodies allow. And as he moves to my neck, kissing a fiery trail along the column of my throat, his rough hands make quick work of the buttons on my dress. He pushes the material open, and I lift up just long enough to pull his tee over his head; our exposed skin makes contact.

Then his mouth is on mine.

Ryder shifts his jacket along the sand, then rolls me on top of it. He gazes down, tracing my body with his eyes, the passion consuming us ablaze in his intensely blue irises. He presses hard against me, eliciting a moan from my mouth, and he curses sharply.

“I want you. So badly it hurts,” he breathes against my neck.

I understand completely. The ache between my thighs pulses painfully each time he thrusts, our clothes an annoying barrier between us. “Take off your pants,” I whisper.

He groans again, more audibly. “Not like this…”

“Exactly like this,” I say. When he looks at me, I reiterate, “No regrets.”

He kisses me. I have no idea what’s going through his mind, what he now thinks of me—but I kill that insecure part of my brain. Just shut it down. As he reaches into his pocket, I wrap my legs around his waist, giving him enough room to maneuver, but refusing to let him go. Then I run my hand along his chest, his stomach, his jeans, until I find the clasp of his fly.

I feel his unsteady gasp against my mouth as I work the zipper open and take him into my hand. A delicious shiver trills through me at the feel of him—hard and hot in my grasp. Anticipation thrums through me with alarming need, the unguarded desire to feel the full length of him inside me, filling me.

With sure, deft movements, he soon has a condom in his hand, and is wriggling off his jeans. I help by running my feet down his legs. I don’t want a second of hesitation to creep over us—no time to question our actions. I only want to be lost in him.

Forcefully, and without warning, he captures my arms and pins them above my head, pressing my wrists into the sand as his body covers mine. His lips bruise mine with demanding need as his fingers trail a scorching path down my arms. They don’t stop their pursuit until they’ve reached my underwear. I suck in a breath against his lips.

I’m relieved he doesn’t ask me again if I’m sure—that he just grips the thin material and slides it down my thighs. Freeing me of the desperation that will surely be in my voice if I have to confess how badly I want him—need him to take me in every way.

His mouth goes to my chest, one hand massaging my breast as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. I’m climbing, the feel of him rubbing against my clit, sliding between me…not yet with the condom. Skin licking skin. The warm pulse intoxicating me.

“You’re so wet…” he whispers against my mouth. “You feel so damn good, Ari. I could do this, right here, forever.” He pulls back enough to look into my eyes, and his show with hunger. His body trembles with restraint. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted you…just like this? How much you’ve invaded my every thought?”

I shake my head against the ground, my throat tight with emotion. Every time he moves against me, I’m tempted to lift my hips—just a fraction to let him drive right in.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, his gaze refusing to release me. And as he reaches down to slip it on himself, I lick my lips, heavy with anticipation. His body shelters mine as he rests himself against me, that one moment suspended before he pushes in, eliciting a soft cry from my mouth.

“Shit,” he curses roughly. His hand grips my thigh as he backs out slowly, then drives into me deeper. “Fuck, but you feel so tight around me.” Then all hesitance is gone. My thighs lock against his strong hips as he rocks into me fully, stretching me to accommodate his notable size. I can’t lie and say that I wasn’t worried there’d be pain. It’s been a while—and Ryder is all man, from head to toe. But my body opens to him, unfolding like petals of a wilted flower, demanding he quench my thirst.

“All the way,” I pant out. His eyes snap to mine, a desperate need gleaming there. “I want all of you inside me, Ryder. Don’t hold back—let me feel you.”

His lips crash down on mine, swallowing the last of my words, as he drives into me, giving me exactly what I crave. My fingers slick over his back, nails clawing to find purchase, as his solid muscles flex. I finally find my grip in his hair as one of his hands locks onto the back of my thigh, pulling me to him as he fills me with each unguarded thrust.

I rock up to meet him each time he comes down, the sweet, tantalizing sensation making me gasp as the taut muscle between the V of his pelvis rubs my clit. Then I’m shoving all doubts aside, enraptured in the oncoming climax. My muscles clench on a spasm, my walls gripping him, begging for just one more thrust… And then he groans and pushes his hand between my legs, his fingers knowing just where to touch me.

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