Of course, it had to be the right man, and Ryan McCall was definitely that, even if he was starting to tick her off. Just because she was a little inexperienced didn’t mean she was fragile, and she sure as hell didn’t want to be handled with kid gloves, especially by him!
They finished in a heavy silence, the air between them even heavier with sexual undercurrents. Shea turned to step out of the shower, giving him a perfect view of her sweet little heart-shaped ass, and he groaned under his breath.
Damn. He’d never seen anything like it, and his cock paid homage to such a beautiful sight by kicking up another notch. Whoa boy, down. He ached from his head to his toes, and it was an agonizing torment not to give in and give her exactly what she was asking for.
She handed him a fluffy white towel as he stepped out behind her, her eyes narrowed in irritation. “Who would’ve thought a guy with your wicked reputation would be such a spoilsport?”
His eyes fastened hot and hungry on her rosy breasts, following the movements of her towel as she dried them. “I want you back in bed,” he said suddenly, and there was no disguising the thick, urgent sound of need in his voice.
Those stormy eyes of hers went heavy in response, firing his blood even more. Her breath rushed through her slightly parted, soft pink lips. “Yeah? Have you changed your mind then?”
Her tongue flicked her bottom lip again, snaring his gaze, making him think of things of his own he had for her to flick and lick. “The bed, Shea,” he ordered roughly, herding her in that direction with his big body. “First you rest, then I’ll show you what a sport I can be.”
The look she sent over her shoulder was as hungry as his. “Promise?”
This time, his eyes gleamed. “Sweetheart, by the time I’m done with you, neither one of us may walk for a week.”
Chapter Seven
When they lay back down among the soft white linens of Shea’s bed, Ryan forced himself to be gentle, soothing, lover-like, but it was hard as hell with her rubbing her naked body all over his. Finally he got them settled beneath the sheet, both their heads sharing the same pillow while they stared into each other’s eyes, trying to make sense out of everything that was happening to them.
With one blunt fingertip, Ryan traced the delicate features of her face. A fey face that was so precious to him—that had been since he’d first seen it. Her brows were finely arched over the biggest gray-blue eyes he’d ever seen, her lashes long and thick, cheekbones high, nose small and pert, skin a creamy pale gold with a light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
And her mouth.
Damn, just looking at those soft, lush lips made him ache with erotic thoughts of twisting his hands into the soft mass of her silky, dark curls and dragging her down to where he wanted her the most. He could just imagine how sweet it would feel sinking past those lips, shocking a look of stunned surprise from those big eyes as he pushed his cock deep. With painstaking detail, he’d tell her how to stroke him with her soft, pink tongue, tease the head of his cock with those petal-like lips, and then suck him into that sweet little mouth until he came hot and wet and scalding down her throat.
Then again, Ryan thought with a wry grin, Shea was the most naturally sexual woman he’d ever known, despite her relative inexperience. He probably wouldn’t have to teach her a damn thing.
Just thinking about it had him hard and throbbing all over again. She shot his control to hell, until he didn’t think he’d ever be able to be near her and not ache to bury himself up inside her sticky sweet cunt. The woman just affected him, no two ways about it, and now that he’d had her—well, now her effect was even stronger.
Ryan still couldn’t believe he’d finally drilled his cock into that beautiful pussy. He wanted to brand her as his so that every guy out there, even her snot-nosed poets and artists, would know she was his.
He wasn’t going to let her forget it.
If he had to, he’d keep her physically exhausted and pulsing with pleasure for the rest of his life, but Shea Dresden was not getting rid of him. Ryan hoped like hell she realized what she’d gotten herself into. It wasn’t just that she’d been so hungry for a good, hard, mind-shattering fuck, and that he’d been the first man to really give her one. She was his in a way that went beyond the physical. He’d tried to run from it, but this strange connection had been creeping up on him from the moment they’d first met.
Running from it hadn’t helped. Avoiding her hadn’t helped. Now that he’d had her, there was no way in hell he could go back. Damn, he didn’t even want to.
But what did Shea want?
Suddenly Ryan was very much aware of the fact that she’d yet to say anything about the future. Oh, she’d said she wanted him, and almost even said she loved him, he thought, but then that had been in the passion of the moment last night—and he knew not to bet too much on things spoken at a time like that.
What did she really want from him? She was staring back at him across the soft white cotton pillowcase, looking at him with all the love in the world shining in her eyes, or was he just seeing what he wanted to see? Was he just an adventure for her? A walk on the wild side before she settled down with some nice academic type and raised little poet laureates? Like hell. No matter what she’d planned before, Ryan was going to make it infinitely clear that her future was with him now.
Hell if he knew how it’d happened, but there was no stopping it.
Shea snuggled deeper into the pillow, her legs shifting against his, moving her body closer to his, which was exactly where he wanted it. The sheet dipped, revealing one puffy pink nipple, and he couldn’t resist stroking it with his thumb, watching the way it tightened into a hard little bud with the first touch of his skin. He wanted to take it between his teeth and tease her until she was ready to come just from having him suck on her beautiful tits.
Then he flicked his gaze up and caught a strange look of embarrassment in her eyes. Jesus, after everything else they’d done, he couldn’t believe she’d get shy about her breasts, and the look went straight to his heart.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his deep voice still rough with physical satisfaction.
“Just that they’re not, um, really your type.” She swallowed thickly and tried for a smile, but he could tell it was forced. “I mean—well, I’m not blind, Ry. I’ve seen the kinds of figures you like. They’re always tall and built and curvy. I must look like a scrawny tomboy compared to what you’re used to.”
He groaned silently in his head, wondering just how many women she’d actually seen him with. Christ, no wonder she was making remarks about not being his type. If she’d gotten a good look at any of his dates, she probably thought he was attracted to nothing more than long legs and big tits. Hell, that’s what he’d thought he was attracted to, at least until he’d gotten a look at her.
Now the only type he liked was Shea, end of story.
There wasn’t anything else for him.
But that wasn’t how she saw it, and it certainly wasn’t how she’d heard it if Hannah was right and she’d listened to him nailing those other women. He couldn’t stop reminding himself that she’d heard him in action, thinking of how awful that must have been for her if she really did care about him. God, just the thought of it made him sick.
Not really knowing what to say, he laughed hoarsely and drawled, “A tomboy?”
“Yeah. All brains and no bod. That’s me.”
Ryan couldn’t understand how she could actually believe such a thing, and it infuriated him to hear her put herself down that way. Didn’t the idiot woman know how fucking blown over he was by her? How friggin’ obsessed? On the verge of lovesick, for God’s sake!
“You know, maybe you are blind, Shea. In case it escaped your notice, just looking at you makes me harder than a fucking spike—harder than I’ve ever been before. You’re small and sexy and beautiful, and you have the prettiest little pink cu—oomph,” a pillow hit him smack in the face, “that I’ve ever se
en,” he finished with a soft laugh.
Though she flushed at his words, she looked away, clearly not believing him. Ryan caught her chin with his fingers and brought her eyes back to his. “I may be a lot of things, Shea, but I’m not a liar. I’ve never wanted anything the way I’ve wanted you. I tried like hell to ignore you, but you were always there, filling my mind every minute of every day and night.”
She swallowed hard, mesmerized by the way his eyes traveled over her so hotly, his gaze fierce and possessive as he pulled the sheet away, slowly revealing her. She knew she blushed from her roots to her toes, but she was too overwhelmed by his words to worry about being embarrassed.
“And now that I’ve had you,” he added in a low, gruff tone, “I only want you more.” He lowered his head, stroking the flat of his tongue across her nipple while holding her warm gaze. Her breath sucked in and her pupils nearly swallowed the gray of her eyes, and so he did it again, curling his tongue around the tip for a hard, wet suck. When he got the reaction he wanted and she cried out, he said, “I want to suck on these beautiful tits, stuffing my mouth full of them, every chance I get, Shea. Almost as much as I want to fuck you, over and over and over, until you’ve grown so used to the feel of my cock crammed up inside of you that your cunt aches without it. I want you to feel empty and hollow and hungry, waiting for the next time I’m going to fill you up.”
Her eyes stormed, flashes of gray and black and blue, raging like a tempest at sea. With her breath hitching, she licked her lips in a nervous gesture that made him moan. “Then why did you run from me?”
His gold-stubbled cheeks went hot with color. “I didn’t run,” he muttered, and they both knew he was lying through his teeth.
Shea rolled her eyes at him. “Hah, McCall!”
“Men don’t run, babe. We fight and fondle and fuck, but we sure as hell don’t run.”
“Hmm. Sure looked like running to me.”
He shook his head with chagrin, touching the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “Yeah, well, maybe you just scared the hell outta me.”
She went still beside him. “Yeah? And why is that?”
Damn it, what the hell was he doing, saying crap like that, baring his soul? It was too much, all of this, just like he’d known it would be. He couldn’t even think straight. Everything was breaking him open. All the intimate little details that he’d dreamed about for weeks. The feel of her, the smell, the taste. Everything about the woman was too damn addictive.
But he couldn’t fight it. What was the friggin’ point? No, he was digging in. Staking a claim. Now. Here. This very moment. Hell, it’d been staked the moment he shoved his cock into her.
Shea watched him with eyes that looked far wiser than her years, her keen intelligence adding yet another dimension to his fascination. He didn’t know what she saw in his fierce expression, but it was evidently enough for her to know not to press him for answers and explanations. Instead, she pressed her warm, liquid cunt against his thigh and draped her slender leg over his hip.
“I’m already aching and empty,” she whispered with naked honesty, loving the warm, muscled feel of him beneath her hands as she stroked his wide shoulders, his arms, his chest. She wanted to touch all of him at once. “You know I always am—that I’m always hungry for you. Starved. So take me again, Ry. Come on, I dare you.”
He smiled a lopsided grin that made him look devastatingly boyish, erasing the lines of tension from his handsome face. Then his warm, calloused palm slid over her mound, cupping her, pushing her to her back as he rose to his elbow beside her. “As much as I want to be buried deep in this perfect pussy of yours, we really shouldn’t right now,” he explained in a smoky rasp, leaning down to kiss her parted lips, teasing her with slow strokes of his tongue. “I was too rough with you, Shea. You’re still so swollen. I know you must be sore, babe.” His voice hardened with conviction. “Damn it, I won’t hurt you again.”
“I don’t care. I mean it,” she argued, moving against his hand. “And you’re really starting to piss me off about this. I’m not some fragile little china doll that’s gonna break if you play too rough, Ry. I want you. Right now. I want this!”
Unable to help himself, and not really wanting to, he allowed his fingers to press deeper, stroking her tender lips, delving between the soft, velvety folds of skin. He ached for the feel of her on his tongue again, the intimate taste of her in his mouth. Her scent was filling his head, making his mouth water and his stomach cramp with need.
Suddenly he was rising up beside her, tossing the sheet over the end of the bed. “Open your legs for me,” he grunted huskily. His eyes fastened on her soft curls, watching the way they snared his fingers, the way they glistened with her slick moisture.
“Now?” Her voice was unsteady, her body restless as she shifted atop the cool sheet. She knew it was a stupid question, but her normally oh-so-clever mind wasn’t working too well at the moment. Maybe she was blowing brain cells like an addict, overdosing on orgasms, but who cared? She’d always had more brains than she knew what to do with; she could afford to lose a little in the name of mindless sexual gratification.
Rising to his knees, Ryan said it again, this time as an order, something not to be denied. “Spread your legs for me, Shea. I want to look at you.” After all her brazen demands, it was so cute to see her look suddenly embarrassed. “I want to get a nice close shot of this sexy little cunt you keep begging me to fuck.”
“Yeah?” she asked, knowing she sounded like a naïve idiot, but unable to get over how exposed she’d feel in the bright light of day. Last night was one thing, in the soft, mellow shadows, but Ryan looked like he wanted to shine a spotlight between her legs and start taking notes. “Maybe we should, um, turn off the lights first.”
Ryan’s eyes blazed, all sparks and blue flaming fire. “Hell no. I want to be able to look at you, Shea. I’ve dreamed about laying you down like this and spreading you open since I first saw you in that friggin’ wet dream you call a bikini. Come on. Open up for me nice and wide. I’ll make you feel better. I promise.”
Slowly, she did as he asked, unable to deny the dark thrill of wonder at what he would do to her this time as he moved purposefully between her legs. Oh, she’d read about oral sex tons of times, in searing, delicious detail—but she’d never imagined it would feel as incredible as it did, or that he’d seem to enjoy eating her just as much as she enjoyed being eaten. Her thighs trembled, but she forced them wider. Then his hands were catching her behind her knees, forcing them out at her sides, and Shea found herself spread-eagled, completely exposed.
A small, helpless sound of embarrassment broke from her throat, but Ryan only held her tighter as she instinctively tried to bring her knees together. “God, look at you,” he whispered hoarsely, feeling something in his chest clench hard with need.
With one hand, he separated her swollen lips, exposing the glistening vulva and clit hidden within—all that sweet, wet, pink flesh—and he made a rumbling, cat-like sound in the back of his throat. Ryan looked his fill of her cunt, while the fingers of his other hand stroked over her slow and knowingly. “So soft and pink and wet. You’re drenched, sugar. All sticky and dripping like honey. And you smell like sin,” he rasped, leaning close to take a deep, satisfying breath.
Shea lurched, shaking almost uncontrollably, her body trembling with need and anticipation. “Mmm…this is so much better than I thought it’d be,” she stammered stupidly, knowing she was doing that whole twit thing again.
His body went tenser still. “Yeah? How many guys have you let touch you like this?” he whispered, pinching the lips of her cunt together, then spreading them far apart, opening her like a luscious piece of ripe fruit he couldn’t wait to suck down his throat.
Her answering moan was ragged and long, the sultry sound of her pleasure pumping him with need. Ryan wanted her screaming again while she came, loving the way she was so powerless to control her reactions to him. It was only fitting, wasn’t it? God onl
y knew she had him as helpless as a fish on a hook, reeling him in faster and faster.
The morning air felt cool on Shea’s exposed flesh, while the rest of her seemed to be steaming with heat. Ryan kept her spread wide, his blue gaze completely focused on the erotic sight before him—so intense she could all but feel the press of his eyes like a wicked touch. “Come on, honey. Tell me how many guys you’ve let get this close to this gorgeous little cunt before me. Five, ten, twenty?”
It was difficult to concentrate enough to think this thing through. Shea couldn’t believe he’d ask her such a question. She could believe even less that he expected an answer. Unfortunately, the look on his face when he glanced at her told her he expected just that. “Uh-huh. No way. You would only laugh at me, Ry.”
His fingers stroked her folds, rasping sensitive tissues with their calloused pads, teasing her clit and circling her still swollen opening in a dizzying rhythm that was making her delirious. “Not a chance, Shea.”
“Um—well, no one really,” she grudgingly admitted with no small amount of reluctance, her voice going breathless as she tried to explain. “Other than, you know, the guy I lost my virginity to. But we, um, didn’t really do anything like this. I mean—he didn’t go down on me or anything.”
And she didn’t really want to be telling him any of this, but it was just too difficult to think straight with her head tossing restlessly on the pillow while he fingered her with shallow thrusts of his middle finger. “I’ve dated guys,” she moaned, feeling the absurd need to justify her inexperience, “and I’m not a prude—but I’ve just never really felt comfortable enough with anyone, or wanted them enough to let them—”
“So then you’ve never let any guy but me do this?” he growled, and his mouth closed over her with a luscious heat that speared straight from her cunt, to her middle, and up into the back of her throat, choking off her air.
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