Page 35 of Forbidden Pawn

She’s still holding the plates when I turn around on the spot, reaching out to grab her—and take what is mine.

Chapter 27

June

The plates slip from my hands, crashing to the floor in a loud, shattering cacophony. My heart races, not just from the noise but from the way Ryker’s eyes flare with surprise. Before I can react, he scoops me up in his arms, and I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck, the heat of his body radiating against me.

“You fucking nymph,” he hisses, his voice laced with irritation and something else—something darker—as he carries me out of the kitchen.

The thrill of being in his arms sends shivers down my spine, but it’s quickly replaced by anticipation when he places me on the table where we had dinner last night. I lie back, heart pounding, as he yanks up the shirt, exposing my naked body before his eyes, his gaze raking over my bare skin. His stare is so intense that it feels like he’s touching me, drinking in the sight of my bare body spread out before him.

Without thinking, I part my legs for him, eager and willing, my nipples hardening under his gaze. I can feel my chest rising and falling rapidly, my breaths coming in erratic waves as desire courses through me.

“Don’t expect me to be nice,” he warns, his tone a mix of authority and desire. Then, he tears off his shirt, carelessly throwing it onto the floor, while I gasp at the sight of him. He’s pure muscle, almost statuesque and godlike, his tanned skin covered with tattoos that adorn his arms up to his broad shoulders.

I bite my lip, a thrill running through me. I don’t want him to be nice. I want him to be rough and relentless, his need for metaking over. I want to feel him inside of me, just like last night on the sofa and in his bed.

I told him I didn’t recall how I ended up in his bed, but that’s a lie. I remember everything. I remember dozing off after our first encounter on the sofa, feeling safe in his arms. I remember the way he picked me up, half asleep, carrying me upstairs, where we curled around each other and fucked again, slower this time, almost dreamlike.

And that’s exactly what it felt like—like a dream. Something that wasn’t real, something too good to be true. I’ve never had sex like this before; I’ve never felt this way with another man. The way Ryker makes me feel—every touch, every caress—overwhelms me in the best possible way. It’s more than just physical; it’s a connection I’ve never experienced, surreal in its beauty. The intimacy, the raw need in his eyes, the way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world—it’s intoxicating. I can’t get enough.

All I want is to feel this way again, to lose myself in him and forget everything else. The weight of my past, the reason I’m here, all of it fades away when he’s this close to me. Right now, there’s nothing but us, and I crave that feeling, that blissful escape from reality.

My body aches for him, and as he hovers over me, that familiar fire ignites in my core. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me closer to the edge of the table before he plunges into me without further warning. A cry of delight flees my body as I arch my back beneath him. He fills me so perfectly, each of his shoves delivering a new crest of pleasure, while his powerful hands dig into the flesh on my hips.

He fucks me like he owns me, as if he is claiming me with each violent thrust. His hands grip my hips so hard it burns, but the pain only fuels the fire building inside me. My body archesbeneath him, my breaths coming in quick gasps as he drives into me with a wildness that’s almost too much to handle.

I try to remind myself why I’m doing this. This is all about control, I try to tell myself, struggling to hold on to that thought. I’m manipulating him. Gaining his trust. Getting closer so I can find what I need to destroy him. None of this will matter in the end.

But as the thought crosses my mind, a wave of sadness hits me, catching me off guard. The thought that this—whatever this is—will mean nothing one day leaves a hollow ache in my chest.

I push the feeling aside, instead focusing on the way his touch burns into my skin, how the roughness of it only adds to the raw pleasure coursing through me.

Then his hand moves between my legs, his fingers finding my clit, and the intensity of the sensation rips through me. I lose control, crying out as my orgasm shatters through me, my body shaking with the force of it. My mind goes blank. The only thing left is the pleasure, his rough grip, his deep thrusts, and the heat between us.

He groans, his body stiffening as he comes inside me, his grip on my hips tightening. His breathing is ragged, and for a moment, he pauses, his weight pressing down on me. Then he leans down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that feels possessive, demanding, like he’s marking me as his.

I lose myself in that kiss, my eyes closed and my mind finally calm, floating through post coital bliss, while our breathing slowly finds back to its natural rhythm. We don’t speak, and he leaves his lips on mine long after we stop kissing, hovering, barely touching mine as his hot breath graces my skin. I open my eyes and meet his dark gaze, still filled with lust—and something that looks like a hint of confusion.

Just as quickly as the moment came, it’s over. I can feel his entire body tense up, as if he’d just remembered somethingimportant, and he pulls back. He straightens his back before he retreats and clears his throat. I sit up and glide down from the table, while pulling down the shirt to cover myself, suddenly oddly embarrassed to be seen by him.

As soon as I’m back on my feet, he slaps my ass hard enough to sting.

“Coffee?” he asks, as if nothing has happened. He doesn’t even turn to look at me.

He goes back into the kitchen, and the space between us feels larger than it ever has. I stand there for a moment, staring after him, trying to collect myself. My body is still buzzing from the high, but the feeling that settles in afterward is not pleasant at all. I feel the sharp sting of shame as I try to make sense of what just happened.

“Um, I think I’m going to take a shower first,” I say, before I hurry out of the living room.

I make sure not to look at him, swallowing the strange mix of emotions flooding through me.

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t wonder why he’s suddenly pulling away from me, why he broke that intimate moment we shared just minutes ago. It shouldn’t matter.

But it does. And I care. I care way too much.

Chapter 28

Ryker

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