Page 49 of Crazy for You

“That’s right, baby,” he said. “Show me how you like it.”

She touched herself, cautiously at first, as though still self-conscious that he was lying here beside her, but soon she gave herself over to her pleasure, moaning as she grew more aroused.

His cock strained within the confines of his jeans, growing harder with each stroke of her fingers between her legs. He’d never been so mad with lust yet so totally focused on her pleasure.

“Ryan,” she whispered, rolling toward him, “I want you to finish.”

“My pleasure,” he murmured, at last allowing himself to reach out and touch her. He ran his hands over her body, taking time to touch and explore. Emma shifted restlessly on the bed, having already brought herself too close to the edge, but he wasn’t rushing. Not this time. He kissed his way around the perimeter of her new tattoo—that flower was going to be his downfall. Dangerously sexy. Intoxicating. He couldn’t wait until it had healed so he could touch it.

Finally, he settled between her thighs. Emma whimpered. He stroked her, and fuck, she was so wet for him. His cock thickened, pressing painfully against his zipper. Ignoring it, he kissed his way up her thighs until he reached her center, and then he put his mouth on her.

Emma gasped, fisting her hands in the sheets. He took his time, pleasing her until she writhed beneath him, panting his name. And then, with a moan, she came against his tongue. Her hips bucked, and her body tensed, and then she collapsed against the sheets with a breathless, “Holy shit.”

He kissed his way up her belly to her mouth. “You’re spectacular when you come.”

Her cheeks grew even pinker. Then she reached up and removed the scarf from her eyes. “My turn.” She went up on her knees and tied the scarf over his eyes.

Immediately all his other senses were heightened. His body ached, waiting for her touch.

“First, let’s get you out of these clothes.” She lifted his shirt over his head. Then her hands were on his jeans, lowering the zipper that had been torturing him ever since they got back to the hotel. Hallelujah.

She stroked him through his boxer briefs, and he gritted his teeth. He shucked his jeans and briefs, then he sat there, blindfolded, his dick impossibly hard and desperate for her touch.

“You’re so sexy,” Emma murmured, her voice tantalizingly close. “I could just sit here all night and look at you.”

“Please don’t.” He managed a harsh laugh.

“Don’t worry.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I like touching you even more.” She took him in her hand, stroking up and down his shaft.

Fuck, yeah. “Harder,” he said gruffly.

Emma picked up the pace, stroking him with one hand while she cupped his balls in the other, and ah, fuck. So good. His whole world had reduced to the feel of her fingers on him and the need blazing inside him, growing more insistent with each stroke of her hand.

And then, her hands were gone. He groaned, his dick straining into the emptiness left behind. Torture. This was torture, and he was loving every second. Her warm breath whispered across his aching flesh. He sucked in a breath and held it, waiting in the darkness of the blindfold, and then the head of his dick slipped into the wet heat of her mouth. He swore as her tongue swirled over him, licking and sucking. She took him deeper, and fuck, he was a goner.

He struggled to hold back, not to thrust himself against her. She slid him in and out of her mouth while her tongue worked him into a frenzy. Already he felt his orgasm building, tightening in his balls, burning through him as the pressure built.

Sucking in a breath, he gripped her shoulders, pushing her back. “Emma, baby, I’m about to come, and I want to be inside you when I do.”

She released him from her mouth, and he lay there, too painfully aroused to move. Next thing he knew, he felt a condom being rolled down his aching length. Emma straddled him, sinking down onto him. And ah, fuck. He was close. Too close. He gripped her waist, slowing down her pace. She grumbled in protest.

He reached between them and touched her where their bodies joined. He found her clit and stroked, hitting a rhythm with his fingers that made her pant. She rode him hard, and he held on for the ride, barely daring to breathe, desperate to hold himself back until she’d joined him.

She swiveled her hips with a gasp, and then her body clamped down on him, spasming around his dick as she came. With a growl, he thrust inside her once, twice, and then his own orgasm came, ripping through him so powerfully that he lost all control of himself, his hips bucking against hers as he rode out the waves of red-hot release.

Afterward, as he lay there, limp, spent, and still blindfolded, he felt as if his whole horizon had shifted. He never would have imagined he’d have some of the hottest sex in his life with Emma Rush. And now all he could think about was doing it again.

12

“Ihave a detour for us on the way home,” Ryan told Emma the next morning after they’d checked out of the hotel.

“Oh yeah?” She climbed onto the bike behind him, ready to go pretty much anywhere he wanted to take her. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

The engine roared to life beneath them, and she hung on for the ride. In the past month, she’d become just as addicted to motorcycle rides as she had to the man giving them. Ryan guided them out of the hotel’s parking lot and down South Boulevard, past a string of storefronts including House of Ink. They merged onto the highway, the morning air crisp and refreshing as it whipped across her skin. After about ten minutes, they left the highway and meandered through a business park on the outskirts of Charlotte, all but deserted at this hour on a Sunday.

And Emma officially had no clue where Ryan’s detour was taking them.

---