Page 66 of Keep Me

Reaching between us, I yank on his towel and throw it onto the wet tiles. My fist wraps around his cock, twisting and working his hard length, eliciting a rugged moan from his lips.

“Fuck me,” I tell him as his lips descend on my neck, making my core heat up once

again.

“How?” he asks, and the question makes my stomach flip. Ryker always makes sure I have a say, and the small gesture makes me question how deep this has gotten for me.

I ignore it and turn my body around, then bend over, my hands on the wall. Ryker groans, and his hand cups my pussy, making me shiver. With his thigh wedged between mine, he nudges them farther apart as his fingers begin to play with my clit.

“You want to be fucked from behind like the naughty girl you are, is that it?” he rasps as the head of his cock replaces his fingers, the tip rubbing against my clit, making me gasp.

“Yes, and I want it hard. Be rough with me.”

I trust Ryker more than anyone else in my life. I know he’d never actually hurt me.

He presses a sweet kiss on my shoulder, his words tickling my ear. “Whatever my princess wants, she gets.”

Ryker grips my chin and turns my head back, pulling my lips up to his for a searing kiss as he fully thrusts inside me. I moan into the kiss, my hips moving in tandem with his as he slowly rocks in and out of me.

He lets go of my face, placing one hand on my hip, while the other fists in my hair. “You ready to take my cock how I want it?”

“Use me, take what you need.”

Ryker grunts, the sound so masculine and rough that it makes my clit throb. He rocks out of me, leaving only the tip in, and I swear you could hear a pin drop from the anticipation of what’s to follow.

With a pull of my hair, Ryker pushes inside of me, deep and hard. Shocks of pleasure erupt all over my body at how deep he is.

“Fuck,” I moan, hands gripping the tile for dear life as he begins to use his hold on my hips to move me up and down his cock. Our bodies slap together under the spray of the water, the sound echoing off the walls.

“Cami, baby, this pussy, fuck,” he moans low, his deep timbre adding fuel to the fire brewing in my core. “I wish you could see how perfectly you stretch around my cock. Prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

My entire body shakes as his words skate over me, leaving me a convulsing mess as he continues to pound into me without pause. “I want to come on your cock,” I whine, the pleasure too much yet not enough.

Ryker grips my hip, keeping his pace, and his other hand travels up my stomach, stopping at my breasts where he plays with my piercings. He knows they’re sensitive and a guaranteed way to help make me come.

I bite down my lip to avoid screaming, only allowing moans and whimpers to escape as he builds me closer and closer to that peak. His lips blaze a path from my shoulder to my neck as he continues to fuck me, his hips rocking rapidly while his fingers toy with my nipple piercings.

I’m so close, my entire body is tight with the need for release.

“My naughty little thing, huh,” he huffs. “Show me what a bad girl you are by coming on my cock.”

His words set me off as my orgasm hits me, spreading an unworldly burst of pleasure throughout my body as I tighten around him.

“Fuck,” he shouts, his thrusts increasing in speed as he chases his release.

“Ry, come for me,” I tell him as I continue to ride out the aftershocks of my orgasm.

Ryker stills inside me, doing just that as he comes, grunting and whispering my name into my neck as I shake from the aftermath of my release.

He pulls back, the tip of his cock still inside of me. “I thought this was pretty before, but I was wrong. Seeing our cum on my cock as I slide it back inside of you is better,” he husks, sliding his cock in and out of me slowly, prolonging our highs.

Once we’ve collected our bearings, he pulls out of me and I wince.

Ryker gently turns me in his arms, concern pooling in his eyes. “Hey, you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m great,” I tell him sincerely. “It’s expected to be sore after that.”

He kisses my forehead, making my heart beat twice as fast. “Let me clean you up,” he murmurs, guiding me so that my hair is under the spray of the showerhead. I’ve never let someone do this for me, and it feels more intimate than what we agreed on.

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