Page 57 of The Heartbreaker

How could I even do that?

“Sounds like I need to choose for you.” He slid his dick out of my grasp, grabbed the condom off his stomach, and rolled it over his cock as he got onto his knees, positioning me at the end of the bed.

His movements were fast, like a rehearsed routine with confidence in each step.

The moment my butt was positioned near the edge, he stood in front of me, my legs surrounding him, his fingers on my pussy.

“I thought you might need my mouth again, but you’re still so fucking wet.” He aimed himself at my entrance. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? The way I’m going to fuck you, the way I know just how you like to be fucked.”

My teeth were on my lip. I didn’t remember putting them there; they’d just gone there.

Out of need.

Or out of necessity.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t been able to get me out of your mind.” He gently stroked in, his thumb on my clit, rubbing that spot as he dipped in further. “And the more you think about me, the wetter you get.”

An overwhelming surge was shooting through me, causing the back of my head to push into the mattress, my stare no longer on him. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“I know.” He reared back and thrust in. “Do you think about me when you go to bed, Addison?”

An image of myself was in my head. I was tucked under the covers of my bed with a vibrator in my hand, holding back my screams so Leah couldn’t hear me. I’d masturbated every single night since I’d slept with him. And during every one of those sessions, the only thing I had thought about was Ridge. So, when he’d admitted to me earlier that he touched himself in the shower, thinking of me, I’d almost died from the similarities.

“Yes,” I said, dragging the word out to multiple syllables.

“Do you fantasize about what I’m doing right now—how fast I fuck you, how deep I thrust into your pussy, how hard I stroke you”—he turned his hips, hitting an upper angle—“and how I know what you want without having to ask me?” His thumb was still on my clit, but he was rubbing it in circles.

He knew me. He knew what I wanted. There was no doubt about that.

And with each bit of movement, he was causing me to build around him.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But what I also think about is the way you look at me.”

“You’re telling me you can feel the power of my stare?”

His words were added foreplay. The combination doing something to me that I couldn’t come back from.

“I can feel your eyes inside of me, Ridge.” My legs bent. My hands clenched the blanket. “I can’t even describe it. But that’s how I knew you were at the club tonight. I felt you before I even saw you.”

“Look at me, Addison.” He was pumping into me even harder. “I want you to feel my stare and take it in while you’re coming.”

He knew every time without me even having to tell him.

I lifted my head off the mattress, and the second we connected eyes, I was screaming, “Ridge!” A blast catapulted through me, and with it brought a surge of sensations. I couldn’t define them in my head; I couldn’t make out their differences. It was a cocktail of pleasure, and it was all rushing through me. “Ah!” I gasped in a breath. “Fuck!”

“Hell yes, that’s the sound I want to hear.” The smirk returned to his lips, but this time, it ended with his teeth, where he gave his bottom lip the sexiest graze. “You just got so fucking wet.” His mouth stayed parted, his eyes feral as they focused on me and, at the same time, looked right through me. “And tight—fuck—you’re tight.”

My shouting hadn’t died down. I could barely breathe.

This feeling was just so much.

The intensity.

The way it lingered, the longer he pounded me.

And as it peaked, hanging there for several seconds, my legs caved inward, my fingers too numb to grip the comforter, so I released it, and the shudders took over.