Against the Wall

by Rhyannon Byrd

  Setting down his fork, he leaned back in his chair and gave her a very direct stare—one that said he more than liked her looks as well. Her nipples tightened beneath her soft camisole top, pressing against the light cotton, and he stared at them until she began to shiver, before raising his hot gaze back to hers.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked in a low, rough rumble.

  Shea set her glass back on the table, running her finger thoughtfully around the rim, wondering where this was all going to lead to tonight, and not really caring so long as he fucked her before she went out of her mind. More heat gathered down low, making her swell in preparation, going warm and slick. The need was so sharp—it was a struggle not to wiggle around in her chair. “What are you thinking about?”

  Her eyes moved casually over the restaurant, and Ryan leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin of anticipation spreading across his ruggedly chiseled features, waiting for her gaze to meet his again. When it did, he smiled. “I’m thinking that if you keep looking at me like you’re thinking about having this hard-on I’m sporting under the table for dessert, you’ll find yourself laid out over it with your skirt over your head, and I’ll be fucking that tight little cunt of yours before you know what hit you.”

  Oh, um, yes please!

  She trailed her fingers across the gleaming wooden surface, touching her tongue to the sensual curve of her upper lip. “You know, I’ve got a table almost like this at home.”

  His gaze narrowed, smoldering blue eyes full of desire. “Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let’s go break it in.”

  As they waited for the valet to bring his truck around, Ryan kept her within the possessive circle of his arm, snuggled up against his side, uncomfortably aware of the attention she drew. She’d caught the eye of nearly every man in the restaurant as they made their way out, and the two young valets huddled behind their podium had been damn near drooling over her ever since they walked out into the sweet, balmy air of the early evening.

  It wasn’t that she was the most beautiful woman there—though in his eyes, no other woman could compare to her. No, it was the way she glowed. Shea sparkled with life—like a bubbling current of energy that flowed through her, intoxicating everyone who came into contact with it. It was there in the mischievous gleam in her gray eyes, the alluring lift of her lips, the sensuous lines of her body. It was in the touch of her fingertips against his skin, as if he could feel the current pulsing through her. It was visible in the playful bounce of her rich, satiny curls, so soft and luxurious, and in the sexy lilt of her husky voice.

  And, damn it, he wanted to claim it all as his own.

  All of it.

  All of her.

  He wasn’t used to the odd, prickling burn in his stomach, the unpleasant taste of jealousy burning on his tongue, and he sure as hell didn’t care for it. He’d never felt this incessant, insane need for possession over another human being—the need to hold her close and keep her there, battling against anyone or anything that threatened to take her away. Derek had jokingly called him a caveman and that’s what he felt like. As immature as it was, he was ready to beat his chest and swing his club, challenging all to accept his ownership.

  Hell, where had the laid back, easygoing, fuck-for-fuck’s sake guy gone? The one who’d inhabited his body for as long as he could remember. Who had been burned once and now kept women at a comfortable distance—like the dog who’d been struck by a car and now knew better than to get too close to one again.

  Whatever feelings he’d had as a young man in the throes of his first serious love—or lust, as it were—shit, that was nothing compared to this. It was like comparing the morning sun and the midnight sky, as different as night and day. One had been about pride and immature ego, while the other was about necessity.

  Yeah, necessity. Hunger. Need. And beneath it all, something deeper.

  And no way in hell was he going there to find out what it was.

  Christ, he was having a hard enough time dealing with the emotions he could already put a name to.

  They made the drive home in record time, with Shea gripping her door handle until her knuckles turned white as Ryan sped through the maze of surface streets. Obviously she’d provoked him, and now she couldn’t help but feel she had a tiger by the tail. Of course, she was looking forward to letting him go, wondering how she could keep finding the idea of sleeping with him more exciting each and every time. Apparently this kind of need didn’t diminish with experience—or maybe it was just that Ryan was all the provocation she’d ever need.

  When he cut the engine on his big four-wheel drive GMC, she opened her door and stepped down on shaky legs before he could get around to her, so he wasted no time, simply grabbing hold of her small hand and dragging her along behind him. Together they made the short walk down the narrow sidewalk, past his apartment and on around the corner to hers. Her keys were taken from her hand, her now repaired door opened, closed, and then she was being pressed against the solid wooden surface, Ryan’s rigid body at her front.

  He sank his teeth into the side of her neck—not hard enough to hurt, just to tantalize—then stroked his tongue over the light mark. “Take your panties off.”

  She tried to say okay, but hey, it was difficult to talk when your breath was panting and your heart was threatening to hammer through your chest. Luckily her body was already saying everything that needed to be said. She shifted, reaching beneath the hem of her skirt, and pulled until they fell to her ankles.

  Black lace again, he saw with hot eyes, and he bent down to take them off, lifting first one ankle and then the other. Looking up at her, he lifted them to his face and breathed deeply, a gruff noise growling low in his throat.

  As if there was nothing unusual about it, he folded them up and placed them in his pocket, then wrapped his big, hard hands around her slender ankles, sliding them up her thighs, until he stopped just short of touching her pussy. She was already so wet, the insides of her thighs were sticky with cream, and he knew it. The second his fingertips touched her slick juices, he smiled, rubbing them in with a massaging motion that worked her warm cream into her heated skin. Then he spoke, and his deep drawl was rough with lust and longing. “You’re dripping for me, Shea, and all I’ve done is touch you.”

  Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped, just her breath rushing hard and fast as she stared down at him.

  “Did you know you taste even sweeter than you smell?” Without waiting for an answer, not really expecting one, he leaned forward, nuzzling her mound through the thin cotton of her skirt. Her scent was deeper here, making his mouth water, and he wanted to devour her, raking her with tongue and teeth and lips until she screamed herself blue. Then he’d give her a fucking hard enough to make her understand that this all meant a hell of a lot more than a weekend fling.

  Nuzzling her, driving them both insane by taking it slow after his mad desperation to get her here, he kissed her cunt through cotton. He licked it, his tongue pushing between her naked folds beneath the insubstantial barrier of cloth, and soft little sounds began escaping her throat.

  Opening his mouth, he bit through the wet material—the fabric drenched from both his kiss and her fluids—and held the front of her mound in his teeth. It was a primitive instinct, like a wolf biting into the neck of its mate, showing her exactly who she belonged to. She was going to get everything she’d asked for—and a hell of a lot more. Holding her in his teeth, breathing in her rich, earthy scent, all he wanted was to take her like an animal, hard and savage and pounding, again and again.

  The instant he felt her hands sift through his hair, holding him to her, he released his hold, nuzzling deeper, his tongue reaching further into the cloth-covered cleft of the sweetest pussy he’d ever had.

  “God,” she groaned above him, her eyes so big they nearly swallowed her face. “Is this normal?”

  He pulled back only far enough to speak, making sure she could still feel the warmth of his breath through her skirt
. He knew she was talking about their violent physical connection, the sex so hot it nearly left them singed, and he thought she just might be asking about his penchant for going down on her too. “It isn’t normal for me, no,” he murmured, choosing to address the second issue. He leaned forward to press a kiss against her navel, the silver loop just visible beneath the bottom of her camisole blouse. “Must be you. What can I say? You’re addictive.”

  “I am?”

  “Yeah, you are. Once I got my first taste of you, I was hooked. Now I can’t get enough. You got a problem with that?”

  The sparkle was back in her eyes, warning him he was about to be sassed again. “No, no problem,” she quipped. “But just to be sure it’s really me—maybe I should conduct a taste test or something?”

  He fought back a sudden smile. “What? Like the Pepsi Challenge, only guys get to taste you instead?”

  She traced the outline of his lips with one fingertip, dipping just inside to press against his tongue. “Yeah. What do you think?”

  Ryan bit down gently on the slender digit in his mouth, soothing the sting with a slow swirl of his tongue until her eyes went vague above him. Letting it slip free, his lips lifted in a warm, sinister smile. “I think that little shit in the bookstore today was all but drooling for a chance to get his tongue up this sweet little cunt,” he drawled, “but I should probably warn you that I’ll kill any bastard who ever tries to lay a hand on you, much less a tongue.”

  He rose before her, towering over her by the time he was done, then gripped her ass in his hands and hauled her up against the front of his very hard, very aroused body. “And I should also probably warn you that your teasing just earned you the hardest, rawest fuck of your life.”

  And he wasn’t kidding. Before she could think of anything witty to say, she found herself perched on the edge of her table and any clothes she’d been wearing or thoughts that they’d ever be suitable to wear again were long gone as Ryan shredded them from her body by gripping handfuls of delicate fabric and wrenching. Within seconds she was naked and wet and panting, and that’s all the notice she had before he ripped open his fly and his massive cock was rising high into the air between them, and then even higher inside of her.

  He found her quivering opening with unerring skill and drove himself to the hilt with the first plunge, a deliberately brutal flesh through flesh kind of thrust, forcing her body to take him to the root. One hand fisted in her hair, the other gripped her ass, angling her where he wanted, and then he began a hard, fast, steady rhythm that had him pounding every thick inch of his cock into her. Over and over and over, he pushed the erotic pleasure of it through her until she thought it would start seeping out from her pores. She was at her limit, as full as she could get, and yet he just kept going, cramming it in—until she lost all sense of boundaries and angles and could feel nothing but the ramming thrusts of his cock into her cunt, pushing the pulse of his heartbeat into the back of her throat.

  Her mouth was open, her eyes trapped by his, her body jarring to the pounding rhythm, making the table screech across the tile beneath its legs. The flush on her cheeks spread down her neck to cover her naked breasts, and when he felt the first clench of her womb, his lips pulled back, showing his straight, white teeth. He bent her over until the cool, polished surface of the table was at her back, his still clothed body at her front, and the massive shaft of his cock a ruthless, hammering force of pleasure between her legs.

  Ryan looked down at her—and wanted more. Gripping the backs of her knees, he pulled them up and out, pushing them flat at her sides, and her pussy spread wide open. Ah yeah, that was better. Her cunt pulled open, pink and pearly, while his cock rammed in and out of the delicate hole, stretching the tender flesh to its limit. It was a savage, ruthless possession—just as he’d promised—brutal in its intensity.

  Shea writhed beneath him, back arching as he lowered his head to one ripe nipple. His lips opened to suck her deep, working the tiny bud against the roof of his mouth, and she exploded in a rush so powerful it was almost more pain than pleasure. She jolted and jerked and shouted—marveling at how something that felt so good could feel almost like death.

  When she could draw breath once again, she wrapped her arms around his still hammering body and hugged him tight as he rested his head between her breasts and came in a long, scalding stream, jetting into her until he could feel the climax raking down his nerve endings, scraping him raw. His jaw ached as he ground it down—his body shuddering hard as he pumped hot spurts of cum deep into her welcoming cunt. He’d never felt anything so painfully sweet as those full bursts of seed erupting from the head of his cock.

  Holy shit. She’d killed him. That was it. Nothing was left but a wreck of a man as he collapsed against her, smiling at her breathless grunt as she got pressed under his weight. God, she was so cute.

  Her small hands were coasting down his back, stroking him like a pet, and he knew with an absolute certainty that reached his soul that he’d never find anything better than being in her arms, his cock wrapped up tight in her body. Damn, it just didn’t get any better than that.

  “Remind me—” she murmured against the top of his head when she was finally able to draw enough air for speech again. “Remind me to do that more often.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make you jealous,” she said with a very satisfied smile in her voice.

  “Then I gotta warn you—I might not be so gentle next time.”

  “Hmm. Is that another promise?”

  Ryan laughed softly and then groaned when it set off another round of clenching contractions along the walls of her pussy, doing a delicious little massage up the sensitive length of his cock. “Yeah, baby. That’s another promise.”

  And one he intended to keep.

  Chapter Ten

  Ryan was starting to doze, a warm, heavy feeling of contentment like he’d never experienced flowing through him as Shea snuggled in his arms. He’d never felt after sex, the way he did with her. Hell, it’d always felt good, yeah, but it’d never left him so ridiculously happy—and it’d sure as hell never felt this good.

  They’d finally made it off the table and back to her bed, and now one of her hands rested on his chest, skimming through the curly hair in an oddly arousing caress that he felt straight down to his toes. He should’ve been dead to the world already, but when her thumb flicked over his right nipple, his breath sharpened with the resulting jolt of sensation and his cock twitched in ready agreement.

  Her touch was curious, tender—a way he’d never been touched before—and his body didn’t think twice about responding.

  Hell, he thought with a wry groan, this isn’t natural.

  It felt like they’d been screwing for days, and she was so damn tight his cock was actually sore. Of course, it was sore in a good way.

  A really, really good way.

  Shea smoothed her hand down Ryan’s muscle-sculpted stomach, marveling at the hard beauty of his body, the feel of his firm skin beneath her palm. Unable to resist the temptation, wanting so badly to study him as closely as he’d studied her, she raised up on one arm beside him. Then she took a deep, excitement-filled breath and trailed her hand straight down to his groin.

  Hah! How was that for bold and daring?

  His hair there was a beautiful golden brown, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers through it, just as she’d done on his chest. Ryan’s powerful body shifted beneath her touch, restless with anticipation, his muscles bunching and relaxing with the steady increase in his breathing.

  He wanted it—this—and knowing that made her want it even more.

  She knew his dark blue gaze burned on her with curious intensity, but wasn’t ready to raise her eyes, not wanting to lose her nerve or be sucked under by the potent force of his will.

  She trailed her fingers along his impressive length, and then dipped into the wet slit in the tip, licking her lips as she thought about how sweet it was going to be when she rooted he
r tongue into that glistening little hole. She wanted his taste in her mouth—wanted to feel the power of that magnificent cock fucking her face, spurting down her throat. Funny, ‘cause the idea of giving head had never really played a part in her fantasies before now. It’d always been something she’d imagined she’d do for her partner, instead of for herself.

  But suddenly she couldn’t think of anything in the world sexier than having his cock between her lips, tasting those pearly drops of pre-cum on her tongue.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, Ryan groaned her name in a warning growl that she smilingly ignored. Twisting her curls over one shoulder, she smoothed her soft palm over the long, still growing length of his cock, explored the heavy sacs beneath, then leaned down and closed her lips around the glistening head.

  Ryan made a hoarse, harsh sound of male satisfaction, gritting his teeth hard to keep from coming in her face. He’d already been sporting a hopeful hard-on, but the sweet touch of her lips sent his blood heaving, surging—his cock rising tall and proud, begging for attention as if he hadn’t just experienced God knew how many mind-blowing orgasms in the past twenty-four hours. Hell, she’d turned him into a fucking sex maniac. He grew even more, loving the way her lips were stretched wide around his width, her sweet mouth barely able to take him in.

  Shea licked him experimentally, kind of surprised to discover how much she enjoyed his musky male scent and taste. Seeking more of it, she rooted her tongue into the slit she found on the large, blunt head, and Ryan jolted so hard in reaction he nearly dumped her to the floor. Then his hands found her hair, twisting into the curly mass of it, and Shea gave an inward smile of womanly delight when he held her in place, urging her to take more of him.

  “Hell, Shea, you’re killing me, baby. Take more. Oh, shit, please—just like that.”