Page 76 of Point of Contention
“Fuck, baby,” I growled, pumping into her fast and gripping her hip with my free hand when she tried to squirm away.
“Oh,” she moaned, “Oh god.”
Rombauer’s voice still carried to me from the cellphone lost in the carpet but I ignored him as Rylan’s legs shook, her pussy clenched around my fingers. Knuckles white, she gripped the edge of the coffee table, arms spread wide as she came around my hand with a yell that finally silenced that fucking imbecile on the phone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cabot
Cuddling on the couch hours later, the sun setting and draping the penthouse in an orange glow, the question I had yet to ask still nagged at me. I couldn’t focus on the movie or the beautiful woman stretched out along the length of me.
I had to get this off my chest if I wanted to move forward.
“Rylan,” I said, pausing my hand as it drew random designs on her bare back.
“Hm?” She lifted her head, then crossed her arms over my chest and looked at me. After a second, her eyes narrowed as they searched mine. “What’s wrong?”
I took a breath, then closed my mouth again. Why was this so fucking difficult to ask? “It’s none of my business, but…” I pressed my lips together, breathing deeply though my nose.
“Don’t go quiet on me now,” she whispered.
“Were you…” I paused, unable to outright ask if she’d beenintimatewith Gage. Possibly because I didn’t want to know the answer. Rephrasing, I said, “Did you scene with Master Gage?”
Her lips curled and she shook her head quickly. “Absolutely not.”
My shoulders tensed and my fingers flexed on her back. Her response had been too quick, her repulsion too evident in the twist of her lips, the narrowing of her eyes. “What happened?”
I’ll fucking kill him if he hurt her.
“Nothing.” She waved her wrist in dismissal. “He’s a creep.”
“Rylan.”
She widened her eyes dramatically. “Cabot.” In an attempt to distract me from further digging, she spread her legs around my waist, opening her cunt to settle against my cock.
I hissed in a breath, but I wouldn’t allow her to derail this conversation. I needed to know the answers or I’d never be able to let it go. I gripped her hips firmly, lest she try to dry-hump me into submission. “Rylan, as your…” Shit. What was I going to say? Boyfriend? Fiancé? Was I any of those things?
Amusement danced in her eyes; she clearly enjoyed my struggle. “Do you want to be my boyfriend, Mr. Reed?”
I growled and moved quickly to wrap my arms around her, then I rolled us off the couch and lowered her onto her back on the ground between the couch and coffee table. Caging her within my arms and legs, I looked down into brown eyes wide with surprise. “That word is so trite, Ms. Blake. Give me a better one.”
I waited, but she just watched me with that characteristic defiance in her gaze.
So I lowered my hips and rocked against her, drawing a gasp from her lips.
“Oh,” she said on a moan as I rocked forward again, dragging my cock between her folds.
“Are you mine?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
I leaned back, sitting on her thighs, then placed a hand around her neck and kept her pinned to the floor. “Say it then, Ms. Blake.”
“I’m yours.”
“I’m yours,what?”
“Sir,” she said on an exhale. “I’m yours,Sir.”
