Page 38 of South Beach Bodyguards

He gave a soft laugh, nuzzling into my neck, and on down to my nipple. He swirled his tongue over the taut nub, his breath tickling my flesh. He pulled back and blew air onto the moistness he’d left on my skin. “That’s one way to look at it.”

His head descended again and I realized his intention. My thighs instinctively clamped together. “Don’t. You can’t do that again.”

“Why the hell not?”

I jerked when his tongue flicked over my clit, his thumbs teasing me apart so he could access my inner folds more thoroughly. “Because… you can’t twice. It won’t feel good. It hurts,” I protested, even as confusion and desire dragged me into incoherency. I forgot why I wanted him to stop. The strangest burn was smoldering inside me, and I felt an ache, maybe for the first time, as a recognizable need for more than the slim plunge of his index finger. I wanted, no, I needed, a bigger, more satisfying fulfillment. His tongue and his finger worked together and I felt desperate, nails digging into his flesh, my thoughts floating in and out, like balloons I couldn’t hold onto. “Don’t,” I said again, and I couldn’t have even explained why I said that.

“Don’t what?” He asked, pulling his mouth off my hot throbbing clit. “Don’t lick you? Don’t finger you? Don’t slide inside you?”

“I…” My hips bumped forward without warning or thought from me, encouraging him to start stroking me again with his stilled finger.

He gave my clit a tiny feathery kiss, which made me tingle and just crave more. He hooked his finger inside me and before I knew what I was going to do, I was lifting my hips off the bed, driving myself onto his finger so he went deeper. I needed more, I needed… something. I needed his cock.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, take it.” He sucked my clit, which made me groan.

“Ryan, please.”

“Are you ready?” he asked. “Do you want more?”

“Yes. Please.”

Ryan pushed me back onto the bed and before I even had time to think he was between my legs and I felt the tip of his erection pushing against me. He had a condom on, and I had no clue when he had done that. “What should I do?” I asked, because I liked information. I had studied for this moment, via books and movies and pointed questions with friends because I like to be prepared.

But there was no preparing for this.

“Just relax.” Ryan pushed inside me.

It wasn’t an easy fit. And it hurt. Ryan pulled out and pushed again two or three times while I was shocked at how uncomfortable it was, how tight the tugging was. But then suddenly my body accepted him. He went deep and I understood we had finally reached where we needed to go. He paused, and looked down at me, his expression fierce.

“Holy fuck, you feel good,” he murmured. “Remember to breathe, Is. You’re holding your breath.”

I was. I had tensed up, shocked at the invasion, the all new sensations. It felt good. Full, but good. Obeying Ryan, I let out my breath and stared up into his rugged face, his expression one of intensity, concentration. Pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

He hovered over me, and gave me a soft kiss. “Tell me if it’s not,” he said, his voice husky.

“Okay.” Immediately my shoulders relaxed, and my legs fell further apart. Ryan started to move inside me and I sighed, further relaxed. “That feels kind of good,” I said, the sensation intriguing, different, new. There really was no comparison to anything else I’d done before, with him or with the other select few guys I had flirted with.

“Kind of good? We can do better than that.”

Ryan lowered his head and kissed me. He filled all of my space, crowding me, moving inside me, and yet I wanted it. When his head pulled away, I craned my neck, wanting another kiss, wanting his lips on mine forever. The sensation of him stroking in and out changed, eased, felt like he was a part of me, and that was all I had ever wanted. Ryan to feel a part of me.

I was so stupid for loving him, I knew that. But right then, I didn’t care. Emotions and pleasure carried me away, distant from thought, reason, self-preservation. The tension was building inside me, and before I could fully comprehend, I was shattering. Again. I looked at Ryan.

His eyes locked with mine. I wanted to speak, but I had no words for what I was feeling. So I said nothing. I just held on to him. And I held on to the moment, wanting to keep this, remember it. Wanting him to see in my eyes what I felt. My gratitude.

My love.

Ryan broke eye contact. He looked down at my chest and softly swore. When he looked up again he was gritting his teeth, his gaze hooded. “Told you we could do better.”

I nodded and managed to say, “Yeah.” I swallowed hard, and instinctively clamped my inner muscles on him without any thought or intention.

His eyes narrowed and he broke, teeth gritted.

It was both terrifying and beautiful, the brutal intensity of his speed, his tightly honed control, his utter ownership of my body right at that moment. I watched him, shocked at how good it felt, the recipient of all that power and masculine appreciation. The feelings were overwhelming and a tear formed in my right eye, escaping before I could contain it.

---