Hothouse Flower (Addicted #4)(129)

“I know. I feel badly about that,” I say. “You can go back to sleep. I won’t disturb you anymore.” I’m about to slide off the bed, but he spreads his strong arm across my back, keeping me on my stomach, right here on his mattress.

The place between my legs clenches. Oh God. Again? I am so insanely attracted to Ryke Meadows that my body doesn’t know how to handle it.

He shifts on top of me, and his lips brush against my ear. “That’s not how this works, sweetheart,” he breathes. “I want you in our bed, all f*cking night.” Our bed. I smile, being reminded that we’re moving in together. We haven’t told anyone, and we’ve been bouncing back from his apartment to mine, not sure which one we should pick.

It feels normal though.

And I guess, in a way, we’ve been doing this since I graduated, just without the sex.

He pushes the covers off of me, exposing my bare back and bottom underneath him. He kisses my shoulders, his tongue stroking my skin with each deep, sensual kiss. It’s torture—his kisses. They’re the best because they heighten every sensation, but they also make me crave for something hard between my legs.

I turn my head to watch his broad muscles flex, the lines of his abs sharpening. He is so effing hot. I blink, just to make sure that this isn’t a dream—that I’m truly with the brooding, rough, sexy guy that I’ve known for years.

His lips descend to my ass, holding my bottom as he kisses my smooth flesh. Ahhh… I feel wet just by the way he’s staring at my body. We share the same expression, the same attraction.

He flips me over, and I pant heavily. He’s kneeling, towering above me, and my eyes trace his sculpted, lean muscles, the darkness in his eyes. I feel small beneath him. Not because of my age. Just feminine. A girl to his man.

I need him inside of me. “I think…I think I’m addicted to sex,” I say, not able to catch my breath and I’m just lying here, looking at him.

He almost smiles. “You love sex. That doesn’t mean you’re addicted to it.”

“How do you know?” I breathe shallowly.

“Because you’d be insatiable. You would’ve been looking at porn on your f*cking cellphone right then, even after I came inside of you tonight.”

My lips rise. “Twice.”

“About to be three times, Calloway.”

I bunch the sheets in my hands around me and turn my face into the mattress. “You aren’t real,” I say dramatically with a big smile.

And then he suddenly steps off the bed and yanks my ankle so I reach him. Oxygen rushes out of my lungs. I look at his cock that’s a lot harder than before. There’s not as much pain when he fits inside of me, but if I’m not wet enough for him, he’ll grab lube. He’s really aware of how easily he can hurt me, and his attention to this only makes me love him more.

But he doesn’t fill me yet.

He bends my knees, and his head drops between my legs. I gasp before his mouth even touches the tender, aching place that begs for his skill. Ryke excels in many areas, but this has to be on a whole other level.

I grip his hair as his tongue and lips work on me in sync. I like that he’s the only guy who’s every gone down on me before, who’s ever kissed that intimate spot. He locks my legs from moving, his arms around them as he holds my waist with two strong hands.

I alternate from clenching his hair or placing my hand on his. “Ryke,” I gasp, my breath quickening. “Oh God…I can’t…” My back starts to buck, and I clutch his head.

His mouth is right there.

His head is between your legs.

He’s kissing you.

He has your body in his grasp.

He’s naked.

I’m about to freak out.

I cry, my mouth opening and my fingers scrunching his thick brown hair. Oh my God. I barely catch my breath as I watch him stand up and then place one knee on the mattress. I’ve seen him do this move so many times before—the one knee on the bed to get a little closer to my body. But never without clothes. Never with an erection and me lying naked below.

He pulls my leg up to his waist, and as he grips his shaft, he slowly slides his hard cock inside of me. I think I just whimpered.

Normally I’d sit up to meet him, but my limbs have jellified. I let him pound against me just like this. And I watch him absorb the way our bodies meet, his hardness rocking into me with a pulsing rhythm. I feel so full—I can’t even describe. There’s no room for anything else but him.

A nerve electrifies, and I moan. The sensations never die down. His gaze focuses on me. He looks intoxicated by my reactions and body’s responses. His lips part at one point, and he ends up putting his hand on the mattress, lowering closer to me, and his erection goes deeper. Still one foot on the ground.

“Ryke!” I cry, the pleasure too much. I cover my face with my hands. I’m done. Blown away. A million pieces. But that’s not true. I’m still climbing this freakin’ mountain. It’s so intense that I just want to reach the top already. I suffocate for breath, but my lungs won’t cooperate.

He tears my hands away from my face, and I rest them against his neck as he kisses me strongly. He helps me breathe with the embrace, forcing oxygen to my lungs, and then he lifts my leg a little higher, and my head tilts back.

He drives into me without stopping. His pace picks up, and his eyes flicker between his dick hammering into me and my mouth that refuses to close, cries breaching my lips.