Page 108 of Come Break My Heart Again

Then, he drops his shorts and boxer briefs, and it’s my turn to gawk. Ryder tears the foil packet open with his teeth. He rolls the condom on, and then he’s hovering above me again, this time skin to skin. He kisses me first, sucking lightly on my tongue. I bite gently on his bottom lip, running my hands into his hair. He groans as my nails scrape his scalp, his erection hot and hard against my thigh.

“Fuck. That feels good.” His voice is low and husky and my own personal brand of arousal.

“I like your hair longer,” I admit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. More to grab on to.”

His hand travels down my rib cage until it reaches my hip. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Two fingers brush the inside of my thigh as he adjusts our position, fisting his cock and rubbing it between my legs. “Still good?”

“I’m good.”

This is going to hurt, based on some hasty calculations. My body isn’t the only one that’s changed since we last did this. Ryder’s dick looks twice the size. And I haven’t had sex in two years. I’m basically a virgin. But I want this. Want it so bad that I can taste it.

The head of his cock hits my opening, and there’s an immediate stretch. He starts to ease inside me, and I arch my back. We were fumbling around before. The purposeful way Ryder is thrusting inside of me feels very adult. Possessive and primal and intimate.

My inhale is swift and surprised.

“You’ve done this before?” He says it as a question, even though we both know the answer.

I swallow, forcing myself to hold his gaze as the pinching flares to true pain. “Once.”

Ryder is excellent at hiding his emotions when he wants to. His expression doesn’t change at all. The only noticeable reaction is the quick heave of his shoulders as he exhales and stills.

“You should have told me.”

We’re as closely connected as two people can be. But it’s the way he said that—You should have told me—that makes butterflies flap in my stomach.

His expression isn’t the only indifferent thing about him. As far as I can tell, what he cares about is a very short list. But I catch a fleeting glimpse of … something that makes me hope he might care about me.

“I just did.”

He huffs what sounds suspiciously close to a laugh. “Little late.”

“You’re just … bigger.”

This time, Ryder grins. The sight inflates my chest the same way my own happiness does. Like his emotions are my emotions.

“Sorry.”

I roll my eyes. “No, you’re not.”

He’s still grinning at me, a relaxed one that’s boyish and a little mischievous. Then, he’s moving—and not in the way I want. Away instead of closer. I grip his shoulders and clench.

Ryder grunts, “Relax, Lo.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“I’m not stopping. Just adjusting. Move against me. Like that, there, yeah.”

My hips lift, my breaths coming faster and harder as I feel that distinctive swell of pleasure start to build again. The flicker quickly strengthens, the feeling rising from some deep, secret place Ryder has exclusive access to. My hands explore his back, feeling the powerful shift of muscles as he pumps his hips into mine.

My orgasm takes me off guard this time. I’m so focused on Ryder, how he feels and how he looks and this entire moment, that the pleasure is almost muffled. I’m aware of it, but it’s also secondary.

Ryder rolls away to take care of the condom, then pulls his shorts back on. I watch him walk over to the open window, red scratches visible on his back.

Mine, I think again.

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