Captive by Brenda Rothert Read Free Book Online Page A

in the last period but still pulled out a win by one goal. I took a hot shower to wash away the tension of watching the game and then turned on some Maroon 5 music in the kitchen.
    I’d become a night owl, often up waiting for Ryke to get home from a game or call from the road. I pulled peppers, mushrooms and broccoli out of the crisper in the fridge and set to chopping for a late-night stir-fry. With chicken and brown rice, it was one of my favorites.
    Just as I leaned against the island to eat, the door opened and Ryke came in.
    “Hey,” I said, turning to face the door so I could see him. “Great game.”
    He shrugged and scowled. “We played like shit the third period.”
    “A win’s a win,” I said. “What’s that?”
    He held up a bottle of wine. “Thought you might like it.”
    “Perfect timing. I was just about to eat dinner. I made a lot, just in case you didn’t go out.”
    “I didn’t. Wanted to see you.”
    He set the bottle on the island and reached for me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let myself get pulled into him, basking in his after-shower soapy scent.
    I rested my cheek against his solid chest. “Is everything okay with you?”
    “Yeah, it’s fine. Why?”
    I pulled back so I could look up at his face. “You didn’t play like yourself tonight.”
    “I scored twice,” he said with a defensive glare.
    “You were great.” I stroked my fingertips over his dark stubbled cheek. “Just a lot more aggressive than usual.”
    He shrugged and his gaze dropped to my chest. I’d put on a white nightshirt after my shower and he’d probably seen my nipples showing through it. His hungry expression made desire stir between my legs, but my mind took over. I wasn’t back on the pill yet, and it wasn’t happening until I was. But I couldn’t leave my dark, sexy husband frustrated.
    “Are you … pent up?” I asked, letting my fingertips run from his cheek, down his chest, to the noticeable bulge in his dark suit pants.
    “Ah.” He shifted and closed his eyes. “I’m okay, baby. We need to wait til you’re ready.”
    I smiled and unfastened his pants. When he gasped and his head fell back, a heady sense of power filled me. I loved having this huge, powerful man in the palm of my hand.
    When I reached into his pants and stroked his large erection, Ryke’s strangled groan made me realize how much I’d been neglecting him. I let his pants fall to the floor and then dropped to my knees.
    “You don’t have to, baby,” he said in an uneven tone.
    “I want to. I miss the taste of you.”
    His eyes closed again, and he wove his fingers into my damp hair. I pushed down his boxers and toyed with the tip of his rigid length, licking it playfully. His fingers tensed, pulling on my hair. I ran my tongue up and down his shaft and his groan was tortured.
    “Don’t you like me playing with you?” I asked lightly, giving him big, innocent eyes.
    “No — yes. Yes, I love it.” His caramel eyes were begging for more. “Take your shirt off.”
    I stripped it over my head and looked back up at him. “Can I play some more?”
    “Fuck yeah. Please.”
    I kissed his thighs and caressed his balls just enough to bring out a frustrated groan. He loved seeing the different sexual sides of me – sometimes I was so eager I’d push him down on the bed and take what I wanted and other times I was coy and made him work for it. Sweet and innocent wasn’t something I did much anymore.
    When I licked the bead of moisture from his tip, I met his eyes and saw raw need. I took all of him in my mouth then, working my mouth up and down, fueled by his murmurs and groans of satisfaction.
    “Shit, baby … Kate … ah, fuck …”
    These were the sounds only I brought out of him, and God, how I loved doing it. I moved faster, taking in as much of him as I could. I knew how to push him over the edge, but I wanted to listen to him enjoying it a little longer.
    “Fuck,” he muttered, throwing his head back.