Page 48 of Clashing

Chapter thirty-six

Still in Love

Scarlett

H aving fun pissing off Ryker used to come with a certain amount of guilt until I realized he did the same thing to me. I wanted to be mad at him for it, but I couldn’t blame him when I did it too. Making up made fighting worth it.

He had a certain look I tried to coax out. One I’d grown familiar with. A look that said if I pushed him any further, he’d snap. I liked making him snap. Sex was amazing when he snapped.

This time I pushed harder and the glint in his eye proved it.

His constant stare took on a new level of intensity that forced me to change my underwear.

It should be illegal for the man to make me cream my underwear by staring, but I couldn’t help but wonder what gears were turning in his head.

What exactly he planned to do with me once we were alone.

He didn’t say a word when I finished my shift.

Only dragged me out of the bar and onto the back of his bike.

He didn’t say anything when we got to his house either.

Nothing while we greeted the dogs. Nothing when he closed them out of the bedroom.

The tension made me need another change of underwear.

Ryker peeled off his shirt, revealing miles of muscle on his way to the bathroom. “When I get out, I expect you to be on that bed with nothing on.” He paused and narrowed his eyes at me over his shoulder. “Absolutely nothing , Scarlett.”

I clenched and nodded. The moment he disappeared, I stripped. Cool sheets greeted me when I lay back in his bed. He returned in boxers. My mouth dried, a condition made worse as he crawled over me.

Striking eyes soaked me in with languid glances up and down my naked body. I pressed my thighs together, heart thudding.

Then he kissed me.

Ryker had a way of kissing that ignited my entire body, as if his mouth were all over me instead of in one place. After all his talk of punishing me, the kiss was soft. Deep, intimate, and unexpected.

“You want me to show you how creative I got, baby?” He spoke against my lips, hand drifting lazily along my waist and the side of my breast, back and forth at a teasing pace that pebbled goose bumps on my skin.

“Yes.”

He snatched my wrists and pinned them over my head.

His mouth returned to mine, one hand keeping my wrists in place while the other journeyed down.

A quick grip of my throat, then it descended, tracing my collarbone, lowering between my breasts.

He circled one without touching, and my body hummed in need.

“Ryker,” I murmured.

“Scarlett.” He nipped my lip. “Keep your hands where they are.”

He sat up and I obeyed, curling my fingers around the bars of the headboard.

With a belt, he secured my wrists to the headboard.

He shifted back, straddling my waist, staring.

Self-consciousness crawled up my skin. His gaze raked over me, lingering on my breasts.

My mouth. My breasts again. All in utter silence.

I squirmed. “What?”

“What, what?” He cocked his head. “I’m allowed to look at what’s mine.”

I shouldn’t have liked when he said that, especially since we weren’t together. The growing pool between my legs didn’t care. I lifted my chin because my bratty mood lingered, and I liked playing with him. “I’m not yours.”

“You’re still saying that?” He adjusted, hovering over me. One hand braced above my shoulder. The other took its time drifting down my body, circling my navel, teasing above my mound.

“It’s true.” I tried and failed to keep my breathing even. “I’m not yours.”

“If you’re not mine,” hooded eyes focused on mine, and he sank a finger inside me, “why are you so wet for me?”

My eyes fluttered, a moan threatening to escape. I bit it back and shook my head. “Finding you sexy doesn’t make me yours.”

He plunged a second finger into me and thrust them in and out. After all the tension from the night, I was already sensitive. His thumb pressed to my clit while he fingered me, and I gasped and arched my back. His digits curled against my G-spot, stroking. I almost tasted sweet relief.

He stopped.

“Ryker,” I whined, crossing my legs.

“If you’re not mine, why should I let you come?” He kissed down my body, teasing me by almost putting his mouth over my nipple but barely missing instead. His attention moved lower and lower. Strong hands gripped my ankles and yanked my legs apart.

He flicked his tongue over my clit, and I jolted. “Say you’re mine, Scarlett.”

“No.” I squeezed the bars of the headboard, barely able to suppress the sounds of pleasure on the tip of my tongue. “I’m not yours.”

The man must’ve had the blueprints to my body. He licked, kissed, and sucked in all the right places at the right pace. If not for his unwavering pressure on my thighs, I would’ve ground against his face. His tongue flicked over my clit again and again, that intense pleasure building—

He pulled back.

“Ryker,” I pleaded. “Don’t stop.”

“Say you’re mine.” He crawled up my body and bit my neck hard. “Now.”

How much more of this can I take? My pussy throbbed, but I didn’t want to end the game. “No.”

Two fingers shoved into me and this time, I couldn’t help it. I tipped my head back and moaned. He edged me to the brink of insanity. By the fifth time, I was dying, curling my toes and trying to press my thighs together for relief that wouldn’t come.

“Ryker, please .”

“You want my cock, baby?”

Are my soaked pussy and hard nipples not making it obvious? “Yes.”

My mouth fell open when he obliged. He removed his boxers and positioned himself between my legs. My body tensed in anticipation. His tip pressed in, then the rest of him. My eyes rolled back. “ Ryker. ”

Slow, deliberate thrusts shoved me toward paradise. All the teasing had heightened my sensitivity, and it only took a few firm thrusts before my pussy clamped around him, my release teetering on an edge I needed to fall off.

He pulled out of me right before I exploded. I practically wept.

“Say you’re mine.”

I almost gave in. Almost. “No.”

Ryker straddled my torso, cock wet with my excitement.

I hardly heard anything over the sound of my thundering heart. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck these tits because they belong to me.” He positioned his heavy cock between my breasts, pushed them around himself, and thrust. “God, you have great tits.”

Oh fuck, that’s hot. He tugged on my nipples and my back bowed. He panted, thrusting faster and faster. Listening to him moan while he fucked my tits amplified the already intense need coursing through me. I couldn’t help but mew.

“Say you’re mine, Scarlett.”

I shook my head. He pinched my nipples harder, the muscles in his abs contracting as he moved. Groaning, he sat back and stroked himself as he came on my breasts. Hot, white liquid spilled down my skin and he collected some with his finger.

“You have an awful lot of my come on your tits to not be mine.” He brought his come-coated finger to my lips, and I sucked it clean. “You sure like tasting me and having me fuck your mouth a lot to not be mine.”

Scooting down, he closed his hand around my jaw and kissed me. Heat coursed through my body, worsened by his tongue slipping into my mouth and caressing mine. His hand drifted between my legs, and I nearly cried.

“Tell me what I want to hear.” He circled my clit, and my hips bucked. “Say it and I’ll make you feel good.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and sank into the bed. I tried to hold out. I did. However, two more teases were the last straw.

Body vibrating with need, I gave in. “If I’m yours, are you mine?”

“I’m yours, baby. I said that already. Your turn.”

I caught my lip between my teeth and stared up at him. He stared back, eyes narrowed. My skin burned as he adjusted to kneel between my legs, cock pressed against my aching pussy.

He rubbed it against me without pushing in. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

He smirked and shoved into me. All the teasing almost made one thrust send me over the edge. I cried out and lifted my hips to take him deeper.

He paused inside me. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

“Good girl.” He circled my clit and slammed into me. The bed creaked with his deep invasion, and I sobbed, my hands fisting.

“Again.”

Oh, fuck it. “I’m yours, Ryker.”

“Damn right you are.”

Finally, he didn’t stop. His thrusts remained consistent and so delectable, I cried out his name and came.

Pleasure ripped through me, wave after obliterating wave that gained power because while I was sensitive enough to finish, Ryker wasn’t.

This was his round two, and he always lasted longer on round two.

That meant he didn’t spare me. He fucked me through the orgasm, increasing its intensity so the tingles of pleasure spread all over my body, down to my curled toes.

I couldn’t tell if the orgasm ever ended but another built.

I thrashed on the bed, the ecstasy dancing the line of too intense.

It built higher and higher—the edge inevitable.

“That’s right, baby.” He grunted, shoving into me harder, his grip on my hips bruising. “That’s fucking right. You come all over me again. Let me feel how much you’re fucking mine.”

I screamed out my release. My muscles quaked, no piece of me unaffected by the assault of pleasure that burst into my every muscle and nerve. Ryker pulled out before he finished and came on my stomach, covering me in more of him.

Climbing off the bed, he set his hand on my thigh, then dragged his palm up as he made his way toward the headboard. His lips lowered to mine in a deep kiss I needed after the roughness.

He had this amazing way of knowing when I needed to be untied. He pulled back and caressed my cheek. “I know.” He released my wrists and kissed both.

I locked my arms around his neck and guided his lips to mine. He threaded his fingers through my hair, deepening the kiss. It ended when he pulled back and slid an arm under my back, the other under my legs so he could lift me.

My brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

He kissed my forehead and carried me toward the bathroom. “Cleaning you up.”

My heart fluttered. I didn’t know why. I didn’t need much care after rough sex, though I’d heard that was unusual. For some reason, I didn’t mind going to sleep right away without reassurance, but the fact he wanted to take care of me after how intense we’d been sparked butterflies in my stomach.

In the bathroom, he set me down in the shower and did something I never expected from him. He washed me.

Kneeling in front of me, he scrubbed a sudsy washcloth not only over his come but over my entire body.

Gentle, consistent circles that calmed my overexcited nerves.

My eyes shut, and my legs turned to jelly when he stood and washed my hair.

Strong fingers massaged my scalp, and he pulled me back against him.

A contented sigh escaped me as I let his body hold mine up.

“That’s nice,” I murmured.

His response came in the form of a kiss on my shoulder.

Once he was done, he spun me around and dropped to his knees.

Despite thinking I couldn’t take more, he pulled my leg over his shoulder and changed my mind.

I whimpered and fisted his hair. He was gentle, his movements slow and deliberate. Tantalizing and euphoric.

Once I reached yet another orgasm, he turned off the water and led me out of the shower. Another shock came when he dried me from head to toe.

Both of us naked, he carried me back to his bed and proved me wrong that I couldn’t take more.

He slid his fingers into me, put his mouth on me, all gentle and so contrary to his usual tactics.

He didn’t shove me into pleasure, he eased me into it.

Hands drifted all over my body like a worship.

Not one part of me went untouched or unappreciated.

It sent my heart into overdrive and left me, more than ever, wishing this could be more.

Whether my hair was damp from the shower or from sweat, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I was trembling by the time Ryker lay over me and glided his cock into me.

“Scarlett,” he grunted, sinking his head into the crook of my neck while he slowly and gently rocked in and out of me.

This was unlike anything we’d ever done.

It wasn’t a fancy position that would make me scream.

Not fast. Not rough. He moved in and out at a savoring pace, allowing me to enjoy every inch of him stretching me.

A divine experience that rippled through my nerves until they all stood to attention for him.

I moved my hips with his, and he planted soft kisses all over my neck. He increased the pace—gentle but deep enough to rip moans from me. His fingers weaved their way between mine, and he held my hand over my shoulder as his thrusts grew more desperate.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

A lump formed in my throat, and I tangled my fingers in his hair. His kiss was like his hips, slow and tender, tongue caressing my mouth, similar to how he caressed inside of me. Gentle sex usually didn’t do it for me, but with Ryker, it was different. Everything was different with him.

He squeezed my hand and trailed his lips along my jaw and onto my neck, where a sensitive spot always made me squirm. He gently sucked and my legs locked around his waist. My climax built, my pussy clamped around him, and he let out a guttural sound that pushed me closer to the edge.

His rasped words against my ear knocked me off that edge. “That’s it, baby. Come with me.”

The sound of his voice always got me there. I gasped as the orgasm coasted through my body, every muscle humming with ecstasy. He sank into me and went rigid, groaning against my neck while his come emptied inside me.

Our chests heaved, and I melted against the bed, spent. My body refused movement. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. At least, not until Ryker’s hand landed on my face. I opened my eyes and found him staring, his thumb rubbing my bottom lip.

“Scarlett,” he murmured, then kissed me. Sweet. Cherishing.

My eyes stung when he massaged circles into my neck with his thumb. My chest swelled at his kiss that felt so . . .

So . . .

Loving.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against mine. Powerful eyes took mine hostage, and my breath caught as I fought against the tears.

I loved him even more than I had before.