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This was a mistake. She was setting herself up for heartache.
Need flared in Ryder’s electric blue eyes, flushing his cheeks and tightening the muscles beneath her palms.
Nathalie wasn’t naïve—his desire for her resulted from his ready-to-take-action aggression from being shot that had nowhere to go. He didn’t trust her enough to open his heart to her again. Why would he? He knew she wasn’t telling him the truth about their breakup.
But she was desperate for him, and she’d take him any way he came to her, even if it was simply a way for him to let off steam.
And she would tell him, she decided. She owed him that much. Selfishly, she wanted this opportunity to be with him first.
Because once he knew her secret, he might never again look at her like he was looking at her now.
Cool air flowed between them as he stood, pebbling her flesh with goosebumps. He scooped her off the sofa into his powerful arms, stepping over their scattered clothes. Her breasts pressed against the smooth, warm skin of his chest. Her thighs were slick, evidence of the orgasms he’d already given her.
He stepped into the bedroom she’d chosen and placed her on the white duvet.
There was a scar on his left shoulder that hadn’t been there before, and the thin pink line of another slashing across his ribs. Ryder had led a dangerous life after she left him.
Her gaze dropped to the angry red patch below his left ribs.
He still did.
She scrambled to her knees and braced her palms on his chest. His skin warmed beneath her lips and tongue as she traced his scars, his chest rising as he sucked in air with a groan.
He removed the pins holding her hair in a knot, letting her tresses cascade around her shoulders. “This is nice, but I liked your curls, too.” His voice was a sexy rumble above her head.
She reached for his belt buckle. “I straightened it to look more professional.” The leather slipped through the metal. Her trembling fingers undid the button on his trousers first, then his zipper. She pushed the material down his thighs and freed him from the sexy black boxer briefs he wore.
“Nat—” Ryder’s voice broke on a grunt at her touch. His shaft was long and hard, yet smooth beneath the pads of her fingers. The need to taste him, make his control break as he’d broken hers, rode her.
She pressed a palm to his sternum to move him back just enough for her to scoot off the bed and drop to her knees on the carpet.
A drop of pre-cum glistened on his crown. She licked, tasting salt, sex, and Ryder, before taking him into her mouth.
His head fell back with a groan, exposing the strong column of his throat. The fingers in her hair tightened.
The power she had to pleasure him roared through her. Feminine power. She’d break his iron control, dammit. Make him remember how good they were together. She dragged her tongue down his length, then sucked him in hard, determined to bring him to his knees.
“Relax your throat.” His voice was a hard rasp. He tugged on her hair, forcing her head back, her gaze to his.
Skin stretched tight over his cheekbones, making his face appear even more chiseled. She’d never seen from him the dominant sexuality that glittered now in his eyes.
He was taking over. Taking her control. Instead of resisting, liquid desire flooded from her even as a frisson of anxiety skittered down her spine.
“Trust me,” he whispered. He held her head captive and thrust gently into her mouth, directing her as he went deeper.
She followed his lead, relaxing her throat and swallowing with each thrust.
He sped up, his fingers digging into her scalp, the pleasure-pain heightening her need.
She moaned and the effect on him was instantaneous.
His hips churned, his movements erratic. He stared down at her with wild eyes. “I’m going to come.”
She dug her nails into his thighs to hold him to her. Give me all of you.
He came with a shout.
Yes.