Page 49 of Something to Someone

“Fifteen-minute refractory period. Impressive.”

He smiled and groaned when I was fully seated. “Perks of being with a twenty-three-year-old.”

God, and was he fucking right. A man who could keep going was always welcome.

At first, I dragged my hips back and forth over his cock, getting reacclimated to his length and girth. But that didn’t last long. I replaced my hand around his throat and lifted my hips untiljust the tip was inside me. His eyes pleaded for me to keep going, and he opened his mouth like he wanted to voice those desires, but I beat him to it. I let my hips fall, plunging him back into me, and we both groaned in perfect unison.

With me on top, he was deeper than I imagined he could be. Every slam of my hips, he grazed my cervix, and unending desire pulsed through me.

“Oh my god, you’re gorgeous. Yes, please, fuck me,” he ground out through bared teeth. His fingers found my clit, and he managed to keep pace with me as I fucked him.

“Yes, use me, pretty girl. Use my cock to make yourself come. Fuck me just like you need to.”

With our eyes locked, I held his throat just tight enough to restrict the blood flow and cut off his filthy words. Then I came apart in a million splintering pieces.

Ryder quickly followed me over the edge, and I collapsed on top of him.

“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he said, and I preened under his words. I was pretty good, I had no doubt in my skills, but somehow Ryder made it better. The two of us together were nothing like I’d ever experienced before.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I admitted.

“I’m fucking awesome, don’t downplay it.”

I pushed up to a seated position, Ryder’s cock still inside me, and laughed toward the ceiling. He groaned beneath me, my pussy inadvertently clamping down on his sensitive length.

“Your ego is almost too big for this room,” I said, rolling off him and landing on unsteady legs next to the bed. I really had to pee now.

I stepped into the bathroom and pushed the door closed behind me. It didn’t shut completely, so I heard him holler, “Stop having multiple orgasms, and maybe my ego will stop growing.”

I peed, washed my hands, and tried to tame the crazy state of my hair before I walked back into the bedroom. The condom had disappeared, but Ryder was back in the same place, blanket casually thrown over part of his legs and his arms tucked behind his head.

“Never,” I said on my way into the living room. I found the bag I’d brought next to the door and dragged it back into his bedroom.

Ryder perked up. “Are you staying the night?”

“I don’t spend the night,” I said, fishing around for the pair of shorts I knew I’d packed. “And I have a workout class in the morning on the other side of town.”

“Leave in the morning, then.” He tried to reason, but I was already shaking my head as I stepped into the fabric shorts and reached for my sports bra then T-shirt. Like hell was I going back outside in that bikini and coat.

Picking up the discarded swimsuit, I zipped up the backpack and stood. Ryder’s eyes were narrowed on my chest, staring at my shirt. I looked down to remember which one I was wearing and why he might look like he wanted to rip it off me.

He rolled off the bed and stepped around me. He headed for a drawer in the dresser on the opposite side of the room and found a pair of shorts he quickly pulled on. “You didn’t go to college there,” he said.

“No, I didn’t,” I said, my voice belying my confusion.

“Then where’d you get it?”

I thought for a second, sincerely puzzled by his line of questioning, until I realized where the T-shirt had come from. To lie or not to lie, that was the question. I went with the latter.

“A guy.”

He nodded without turning around and reached for another drawer. “A guy you slept with?”

What the hell. “Yes, he left it at my house, and it’s become one of my favorite T-shirts. It’s soft and worn in all the right ways.”

Quickly, Ryder spun back around and crossed the room in three steps. “Yeah, that’s not going to work for me. When you’re fucking me, you shouldn’t wear another man’s shirt, before, during, or after.” My eyes widened, and he thrust one of his T-shirts into my hands. “Do you want to take this off?” he asked, tugging at the hem of the shirt I was wearing. “Or should I?”

I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest. “I like this shirt, Ryder. You’re being possessive, which doesn’t do a lot for your argument that you ‘won’t want more.’” I dropped my voice to mimic his.

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