Page 30 of Release Me

Suddenly, I’m off my feet and cradled in his arms, being carried to his bed. With ease and speed I don’t expect, he has me on my back. I watch in a mute state of shock as he pulls a condom from his bedside drawer, tears the foil package with his teeth, and rolls the condom on, all with smooth precision.

Seizing me by the thighs, he pulls my body to meet his.

And then he’s pushing in.

I gasp at the intrusion as I stretch around him, my heart hammering in my chest. From the moment I entertained this crazy decision to now couldn’t have been more than five minutes and yet here we are. It’s like some weird out-of-body experience. There is no way Responsible Ryan would stroll into her new roommate’s room in the middle of the night and demand—beg for?—sex. This is a different version of me, a careless version.

And I must admit, she’s enjoying this.

Ronan’s muscles strain beautifully with each hip roll, until he’s filling mecompletely.

He pauses, grins devilishly at me, sprawled out and exposed before him. “You good?”

“Yes,” I manage. Am I? Or have I gone completely insane? Am I going to regret this?

“Get out of your head for a bit, Ryan,” he warns softly, as if he can read my mind.

“Okay,” I squeak.

Adjusting his grip on my thighs, he thrusts in and out, the bed creaking with each move, the headboard banging against the wall. It’s as noisy as the night he was with that woman he picked up at the club. I try not to think about that right now. I’m nothing like her. Almost as an act of defiance, I press my lips together, intent to not let myselfsoundlike her.

“Fuck,” he groans, cords of muscles tensing.

He’s so deep, and he keeps hitting one spot each time he goes in. It’s not entirely comfortable.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” he promises, his heated gaze trailing from my face to my breasts, down to where we’re joined.

And he must, because with each stroke against that spot, my body opens to him, the dull ache turning into something entirely pleasurable.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs through ragged breaths.

I am. And offering no resistance to him anymore. It’s almost embarrassing. I’ll never be able to deny my attraction again.

Ronan shifts one arm to splay a hand across my pelvis, pressing down slightly as his thumb starts rubbing my clit.

I can’t help the low moan that escapes.

“That’s it, Ryan. I know you’re not shy.” He suddenly changes his tactics, rolling his hips rather than thrusting.

It brings out a second, lower moan from me, unbidden. This view of him—naked and confident and between my legs—might be the sexiest thing I’ve everseen.

I can feel the beginnings of an orgasm deep in the pit of my stomach, the blood flowing fast to my core.

Ronan grips both my thighs again, lifting my hips a little higher, squeezing a little harder as he changes his rhythm, plunging into me hard and fast. I’ve only ever come during sex once—during a rare night of no inhibitions when my then boyfriend and I smoked a joint andeverythingwas a major turn-on.

I’m dead sober now, but the sight of Ronan’s body, straining and glistening, his dark, lustful gaze locked on me, pumping in and out—the very idea that a guy like this, who could have any woman he wanted, is going to come because of me …

I don’t care if I sound like that drunk idiot from the other night as the rush of blood hits my nerve endings and my muscles tighten around him. I cry out, bucking against him where we’re joined.

Ronan’s head falls back, his sharp Adam’s apple jutting out from his strong neck, and he groans as the muscles in his stomach tense. I feel him pulse inside me, his thrusts slowing until they’ve stopped altogether.

Our panting breaths fill the silence in the room.

Now what?

If he were my boyfriend, this is where he would lie down beside me. We’d kiss, I’d nuzzle my nose in his neck, I’d draw patterns along his chest, I’d ask him if he enjoyed that.

But this is Ronan.

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