threatened to love into oblivion protests the idea of straying from his mattress. I hardly think my feet would listen if I willed them to carry me out of here. My primal instincts are in control of this party, and they scream triple orgasms all around as if they were buying. Clearly logic and reason aren’t invited tonight.
Ryder lowers his lids, rendering me defenseless to his bedroom eye superpowers. His features harden as if I’ve blatantly pissed him off and he was about to teach me a lesson. He dips his thumbs into my panties and hitches them below my hips until they voluntarily fall to the ground.
“Would you look at that?” he whispers over my lips without taking his eyes off mine. “Here we are, naked in my bedroom.”
“Hard to believe.” I run my finger over the length of him when I say it.
“I want you back, Laney.” His jaw redefines itself as his hand finds that tender part of me that’s been screaming out for him ever since that last night we were together. I let out a heated breath because I’m finding it impossible to focus on the finer details of our breakup while he rubs me into a sexual nirvana. Maybe a little revenge sex is what I really need. One wild night to work him out of my system—maybe then I’ll finally be free.
I wrap my arms around his neck and touch my forehead to his chest. My body writhes to the rhythm of his magical fingers. It’s obvious now that an entire suitcase full of vibrators could never replace the real deal.
I arch my neck back and let out a groan. “The thing I mourned most was the fact our bodies never had the chance to say a proper goodbye.” It sails from my lips in a hoarse whisper. “Maybe that’s what this is, one long, drawn out, carnal goodbye.” I look up at him because a small part of me wants him to refute the theory.
“Goodbye?” He presses out a dull smile while studying me with those dark unknowable eyes. “This isn’t goodbye.” He gravels it out with demonic intent. “What you’re about to experience is wild, savage make-up sex.”
“You’re forever the optimist.” My heart thumps because I sort of like the idea of make-up sex a whole hell of a lot better. For a moment I envision us snuggled up by the fire as we throw fistfuls of dildos into the flames because with Ryder around there’s no need to keep spare man parts hidden in my underwear drawer.
“Let me love you.” He strokes the hair from my face. There’s a tenderness in his voice, in his eyes, that I haven’t seen in so long. I want to believe it’s real, but a part of me can’t be sure. This is just the homerun at the end of some bizarre night at a charity ball. A cash exchange took place, and he was simply accepting my services. This means as much to him as the tax donation that landed me here in the first place.
“I don’t think you know how to love me, Ryder,” I give it in less than a whisper. Sometimes it’s hard to hear someone tell you the truth, but it’s also hard to be the one to say it.
“I do. Let me into your heart, Laney,” he pleads with those deep navy eyes as we stand just shy of his bed. “Let me crush every memory you have of the two of us and make something new, something better, something that never disappoints because it doesn’t know how.” He dots a series of hot kisses slowly up my neck, and a shiver runs through me.
My skin touches his, and then it’s over. I’m all in. Every last inch of me has been so thirsty for Ryder, and now, here I am, ready to drown in the cool spring of his affection while my entire body reanimates under his willful supervision. A part of me died last winter in a very real way, and, here he is, reawakening me, breathing life back into my soul by way of his mouth, his fingers—his bare flesh.
He pulls back and rakes over me with his slow gaze.
“Get in my bed,” he growls it out, sharp like an order.
“If you want me in your bed, you’ll have to damn well put me there yourself.”
Ryder
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley