Page 52 of Cooper

No one has ever kissed me the way he does.

Like nothing is as important as kissing me.

Like he owns me.

That should scare me, but when he’s touching me like this, I’m not scared at all.

In fact, I’m the opposite of scared.

I’m happy. Safe.Loved.

We may not be at the point where we use that word, but I feel it. That’s the only way to explain the intensity of this thing between us.

I moan into his mouth, my tongue curling with his.

He fists my hair with one hand and grips my ass with the other. He moves me astride him and positions himself at my entrance. Then he thrusts up with one smooth motion that fills me completely. It’s beautifully perfect and as I sink down, I can’t think of a time where lovemaking ever felt so powerful.

Not with the boys I knew back home, not with Logan, not with anyone.

There’s something about this that’s unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced, and I’m not naïve enough to think it’s just because he’s an experienced, considerate lover. We have a bond. It started in Iraq when we couldn’t be anything more than friends, and now that things have morphed into something more, it’s even better.

I rock back a little, tilting my hips so that I feel every inch of him gliding through my slickness. I’m not usually a fan of being on top, but it’s different with Ryan. The whole power thing comes into play again, and the perception of control turns me on. It’s not about controlling him so much as being in control of myself; my body, my emotions, everything I experience when we’re together.

“You’re so beautiful when you ride me,” he says, his gorgeous blue eyes finding mine. “I fucking love your body, Natalia.”

His words wash over me like a layer of warmth filled with a burst of pleasure.

“Push your hair back so I can see your tits,” he says, hands at my hips.

I lift my hair with both hands and hold it up, giving him an unimpeded view of my breasts.

“Fuck, that’s pretty.” His eyes darken. “Now let your hair fall back and squeeze your nipples for me.”

I slowly let my hair cascade down behind me and then bring my hands around to cup my breasts. The look in his eyes is one of complete adoration, something I’ve never felt from any other man.

It’s intoxicating.

Like a drug I’ll never get enough of.

I didn’t know men like this existed.

Strong, sexy, passionate men who treat women like goddesses.

I love it.

So much that I don’t want it to end.

I pinch my nipples together, anxious for more, wishing it was his fingers instead of my own. I squeeze and knead them, getting more and more aroused by the look in his eyes as he watches.

Why have I never noticed the way a man looks at me when we’re being intimate? Had I never noticed or is it simply that it’s so incredibly special when Ryan does it. He’s intoxicatingly sensual, even when he’s not the one touching me.

“Harder.” That sexy edge to his voice makes my vagina flood with appreciation.

But the pressure inside of me—the way he moves against the walls of my pussy—is building to an excruciating level that I can’t fight off much longer. I make a noise that doesn’t sound like me, filled with need and desire and the pain of knowing it’s going to end long before I’m ready.

“Ryan…” I gasp against his mouth as my body betrays me in the best possible way.

Nerve endings begin to snap with tiny electric shocks as my orgasm crescendos into an explosion of pleasure. I dip my head and drop my mouth to his, wanting to share every part of him as he follows me into ecstasy.

---