Page 73 of Tight End

With my free hand, I grab his chin, turn his face toward me, and press my lips to his. I need this. I need to show him what he means to me, that I’m ready for there to be an us. He waited four years for me. Four freaking years and he wasn’t with anyone else.

I never stopped thinking about you. I felt things for you I never felt with her, and that scared me. Still scares me.

My heart aches for him, for his loss, for every bit of pain he went through alone. And yeah, whatever this thing is between us scares me too. It’s big, powerful, and if we’re not careful, it will have the power to consume us both.

He groans, taking over the kiss, his tongue licking along the seam of my lips, and I open to him. This isn’t frenzied like it was last night. This is slow, passionate.

This is a reckoning. A homecoming.

It’s like the past four years, the longing, thesearching for him, the desperation I felt when the sun went down ... it was all leading me to this, this moment.

His hands frame my face, and he breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. “What do you need from me, Princess?”

“You,” I whisper, letting the word hang between us for several seconds. “I need you.”

Instead of surging forward, pinning me to the bed, and having his way with me, he pulls back. His eyes are like blue flames, and the intensity of the look he gives me sets me on fire. He pushes up from the bed, breaking eye contact with me long enough to pull the long-sleeved shirt over his head.

He’s beautiful. His shoulders and chest are broad and muscular, his abs defined, and when he pops the top button on his jeans, my mouth waters.

I want to lick him from head to toe. I want to know what drives him wild, what makes him lose control. And more than anything, I want to brand him. His body, his soul. It’s not something I’ve wanted before, and I sure as hell don’t understand it, but I want everyone, including him, to know he’s mine.

“Have you been taking care of my pussy?” His teeth rake across his lower lip, a move that shouldn’t have me rubbing my legs together, desperate to be touched, but it does.

“Wha . . . what?”

He leans down, his hands on either side of my hips, forcing me to lie back on the bed. “I asked if you’ve been taking care of my pussy.”

His lips ghost across mine, trailing down my neck, and I’m squirming. This isn’t nearly enough. I need more.

“What do you mean?” My voice comes out soft, breathy. I barely recognize it.

He supports himself on one hand, the other running up my thigh, pushing my legs open. I’m expecting him to touch me, to claim me, to do something, but he simply taps my clit. Once. Twice.

“Do you touch yourself?”

“I ...” My face is on fire, and I want to look away, but his bright-blue eyes hold me captive, and I whisper, “Yes.”

And just like that he’s gone, standing up and backing away a few feet. His chest rumbles with a growl, and he points to a spot higher on the bed. “Lose those clothes and show me. I want to see how you finger that pretty cunt of yours.”

Oh God, his mouth. I forgot how dirty and commanding he could be. I forgot how much I liked it. How much it turns me on.

I scramble backward, working my way up his bed. His gaze is glued to me, watching every single move I make, darkening as I pull off my blouse and unbutton my jeans. My shoes are the next to go, landing with a thunk as I kick them off.

I’m in my bra and panties, and already I feel naked. He hasn’t seen me since before Oliver. What if he doesn’t like my body? What if he’s turned off by the stretch marks across my belly?

He groans, his hand swiping down his face. “You’re wearing white.” Another groan and he sheds the rest of his clothes, standing at the foot of the bed in his boxer briefs, a pained look on his face. “As much as I love seeing you in white lingerie, I need you to take it off.”

My thumbs go to the waistband of my panties, and I pause. “My body isn’t the same.”

“It’s better. Trust me, Princess, you’re not going to showme anything I’m not going to like. Now, take them off. Show me what belongs to me.”

My heart lodges in my throat, beating out of control, and I do as he asks, taking off the white lace panties and matching bra. My fingers tremble, coming to rest on my stomach.

Ryan’s briefs are gone in a matter of seconds, his fingers wrapping around his hard cock. His head falls back on a groan, and I can’t help but look at him. He’s large, veiny, and the head is already purple, throbbing with the need to come. “Open your legs. Show me how you get yourself off.”

I take a shaky breath, widening my legs, opening them as far as I can.

The look on his face turns positively feral.

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