A Girl Like Her (Ravenswood Book 1)

by Talia Hibbert

  Plus, Evan didn’t seem to have any complaints.

  He bit his lip as he studied her, his eyes moving from the swell of her breasts to the shadowed space between her legs. She could spread her thighs wider, let him see what he wanted to see instead of hiding it away. But that wouldn’t be half as much fun.

  Because she knew he’d ask, Ruth murmured, “You can touch me.”

  He looked up, his eyes hungry. “Anywhere?”

  “Preferably everywhere.”

  Slowly, deliberately, he pressed a hand to her hip. Which wasn’t exactly what she’d expected—but the slightest touch from him left her breathless.

  “I thought about this,” he said. His hand slid up, slow and steady, over her hip and towards her ribs. “I thought about how you’d look naked, and then I felt guilty.”

  Her breath caught as his hand reached the underside of her breast. “Why guilty?”

  He cupped the mound of flesh, no more than a handful for him. “Because I thought about it too much. And every time I heard your shower start or your bed creak, I imagined touching you. Taking off your clothes and kissing every inch of you, and fucking you—and I’ve never done that. I’ve never fantasised about… about a friend.”

  “Because you’re too noble,” she teased. Then his thumb brushed over her nipple, and her smile became a whimper.

  Evan’s eyes flew to hers. “You like that.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she bit her lip and nodded anyway.

  So he did it again, harder this time, worrying the stiff peak. She could feel her pussy growing wet, the muscles contracting as if searching for something, begging to be filled. Lust riding her, Ruth shoved at his waistband. The fabric slid down easily over his thighs, and his cock bobbed free, beautiful as she remembered, and oh, Jesus, how she’d wanted his.

  But before she could touch him, Evan bent his head over her other breast and took the aching nipple into his mouth. She cried out as his tongue flicked the tight peak with impossible delicacy, even as his lips sucked softly at her breast.

  “Jesus,” she choked out. “Evan. Fuck.” He still worked her other nipple with one thumb, and Ruth stared down at the sight. At his big hand against her skin, the knuckles dusted in golden hair; at his head bent over her breast with singular focus, and the muscles in his naked back. She could see the globes of his arse and imagined how they’d look when he thrust into her, how the muscle would shift beneath his skin.

  Ruth’s own hand ached to move between her legs. But before she could do anything, he released her nipple with a last, hard lick.

  Looking up at her with slightly swollen lips, Evan said, “I want to make you come. You look so pretty when you come.”

  She huffed out a laugh, but the sound was strained. “It’s kind of hard for someone else to make me…”

  “Show me, then. We’ve got time.”

  He said that as if there was no way he’d rather spend that time than trying to get her off. She understood the sentiment, because she’d be willing to spend ages sucking his cock.

  Asking for what she wanted in the bedroom wasn’t a familiar habit, but Ruth had a feeling that Evan would make it easier.

  The words were hard to dredge up, thick and sticky as syrup, but she forced herself to speak because she knew he really meant it. He wanted to know. He was watching her with earnest blue eyes, shot through with thunderous shadow, and his face was so fucking… dear to her, even now, with his hand on her breast and his cock straining between them. Her blood burned through her veins at the sight of his body, and her heart squeezed in her chest at the knowledge that he was Evan. Just Evan.

  “Well,” she managed. “Usually, when someone else makes me come, it’s because they, um… Used their mouth.”

  Evan stood, pulling his clothes off completely. It occurred to her that he’d probably been naked too, before her bed collapsed.

  God, she was glad her bed had collapsed.

  He stood before her, his cock rising proudly against his solid waist, his balls hanging heavily between thick, muscular thighs, and she thought maybe she would come tonight. Without the use of her own hand. She had a rather good feeling about this.

  “Lying down?” He asked.

  She blinked, taking a minute to catch his meaning. “I’ve only ever done it lying down.”

  He smirked. “Well, like I said, we’ve got time.” Then he pushed her gently back against the pillows, nudging her into the centre of the bed. For a moment, he slid his body over hers, and a spark of anticipation danced down her spine. His chest grazed the sensitive tips of her breasts, and she felt the weight of his cock between her thighs.

  Then he kissed her gently before moving down her body, his lips trailing over her skin. His mouth brushed along the length of her throat, over the swell of her breasts. He lingered there for a moment, flicking his tongue over each stiff peak, and then he said, his voice hoarse, “I love your nipples.”

  “You do?”

  “Mmm.” He gave one a firm suck, and she felt the pull between her legs. Then he released her and continued his journey south. Over her ribs, her belly, her hips, went his mouth. His beard tickled everywhere, the sort of tickle that didn’t inspire laughter so much as panting, half-hysterical moans.

  When his mouth passed her hips, Evan grabbed her thighs. His fingers dug into her flesh just hard enough to make her gasp, and then that gasp turned into a ragged moan when he pushed her legs wider. Ruth felt the slick folds of her pussy spread open, exposed suddenly to the cool air. And then she felt the warmth of his breath against her, the contrast sharp, the anticipation dizzying.

  “You tell me what to do,” he said, “and what not to do.” He pressed a gentle kiss against the inside of her thigh. “Okay?”

  She swallowed, nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Okay.”

  “Good.” His hands slid from her thighs to her pussy, and he parted her further, spreading her open with his thumbs. And then she felt that tongue again, big and strong and yet so delicate, tracing her inner folds.

  Ruth’s breath escaped in a strained gasp, her hips jerking up. And then, because she’d told him she would, she said, “More.”

  He licked the very centre of her desire, his tongue dipping into her, and she moaned. Arched her back. Felt the last of the blood circulating her brain disappear. Still, she needed something else.

  Then his tongue moved up and flicked gently at her clit, and Ruth gave a sharp cry. “Fuck, yes. Evan…”

  He licked faster, and then she felt his finger stroke her entrance. For a second, the heat of his mouth disappeared, and Ruth wanted to scream in frustration because that—that had been almost perfect and she needed him to keep going.

  Then he pushed the tip of his finger into her, and she felt herself tighten around him automatically. Desperately. Christ.

  “Tell me this is okay.” He said, his voice low and heavy with a lust that belonged, she realised, to her. He was enjoying this. He didn’t just want to make her happy. He was doing it for himself, too.

  Her hips jerked against him, pushing his finger deeper as she said, “This is definitely okay. Keep going.”

  That long, thick finger thrust in all the way, until she could feel his knuckles against her labia. Jesus Christ, it felt good, simultaneously too much and not enough.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said suddenly. “You’d tell me, if I hurt you?”

  “Yes. Now, I’m kind of missing your mouth, so if you don’t mind…”

  He grinned wickedly. “Oh, no. I don’t mind at all.” Then he buried his head between her thighs again, his tongue massaging her clit more firmly than before. Perfectly. So perfectly that she found herself gasping out his name, writhing on the bed with no restraint whatsoever. His finger moved slowly inside her, back and forth, until she softened enough for him to thrust with ease.

  He added another finger, and Ruth shuddered at the delicious stretch, and then she rose up on her elbows to look at him and holy shit
was he beautiful. So, so beautiful, his handsome face buried between her legs, his eyes closed as if in ecstasy. He stroked her expertly, worked her clit tirelessly, and the twin rhythms had her heart pounding in her chest.

  She slid a hand into his hair, pushed him against her as if he could get any closer. “Fuck,” she gasped out, the word stretching on a breath. “Oh my God. Please don’t stop, you can’t stop, please—” because she was suddenly, unreasonably terrified that he might. That he might take away the perfection and the promise of starlight just when she was almost there, and nothing would be more unbearable.

  He didn’t. He kept going, kept up the pace and the pressure until the razor-sharp streaks of pleasure arcing through her reached their peak. Ruth managed to groan out a series of babbled, senseless words—“Oh, my, fuck yes, you’re so, Jesus, Evan, you perfect fucking…”—before her mind gave up completely. She gave a hoarse cry as she twisted up off the bed, but Evan didn’t stop then, either. He wrapped an arm around her hips and kept licking, kept stroking, his movements growing slower and gentler as her moans eased.

  When she relaxed against the bed, limbs liquid, chest heaving, he finally stopped.

  The fact that he’d made her come almost as easily as she did herself should’ve shocked Ruth. Instead, she felt an odd sort of satisfaction; as if he’d met an expectation she’d secretly already held.

  He moved up the bed to lay beside her, his warm body pressed against hers. Ruth rolled onto her side and wrapped her arms around him.

  Evan cradled her face, his lips curved into a smile. She’d been sated five seconds ago. Now she could feel his hardness pressing into her belly, smell her own arousal on his beard, see the fire burning in his eyes.

  She kissed him without a word, sinking into his touch the way she would a warm bath. His hands roamed over her body, sliding down the small of her back, over the curve of her arse. He delved between her legs from behind, stroking her slowly, gently. The way he touched her, as if it were a habit, only made Ruth hungrier.

  She reached between their bodies and found his stiff cock, squeezing the firm girth. A flare of pleasure shot through her as Evan sighed against her lips.

  Then she slid his erection between her thighs, and he grunted, “Fuck.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When Evan felt Ruth orgasm around his fingers, tasted her release on his tongue, he thought he’d never come so close to dying of pleasure.

  Of course, he should’ve realised she’d drive him so much closer before the night was out.

  He sucked in a breath as she closed those lush thighs around his cock. So different, the feel of all that flesh, to the wet heat of her cunt. Still sweet enough to make his balls tighten, to call up the ghost of a familiar tingle at the base of his spine.

  Evan pushed the sensation away. One day, he’d like to come all over her soft, brown skin. Tonight wasn’t the time.

  But his hips, pumping of their own accord, didn’t seem to agree.

  Ruth kissed him as if she’d never stop. He hoped she wouldn’t. If they stayed like this forever, or until their air ran out, that would be fine. More than fine. That would be heaven.

  He held her close as he thrust against her, silken skin and suffocating pressure conspiring against him until he was ruled more by instinct than sense. His hands grabbed at her roughly, greedily, and his tongue thrust wildly against hers—and Ruth moaned and writhed for him as if she were just as mindless.

  She pulled away from his mouth—bad—and gasped out, breathless, “You should fuck me now.” Good. Very, very good.

  Evan tore himself away from her because he knew that easing back slowly wouldn’t work. He’d never leave the warmth of her silken skin, the abundant curves of her body. And if he never left, he couldn’t grab a condom from his drawer, and then he couldn’t finally thrust into her the way he’d wanted to for weeks.

  So he took the condom, tore it open, rolled it on, and was lying over her within seconds.

  She blinked up at him. Since when had she been on her back? Perhaps he’d put her there.

  “That was quick,” she said. Something about the tilt of her lips told him, clearly as if she’d actually laughed, that she was mocking him. He liked Ruth mocking him.

  “I must be desperate,” he said.

  “Yes, you mu—ohh, fuck.” She broke off, squeezing her eyes shut as he slid his cock over her folds.

  “What was that?” He prompted. His hips moved in a tight circle, nudging at her clit with each thrust.

  “Fuck off,” she groaned, arching against him.

  “You want me to stop?”

  “I want you to fuck me,” Ruth gritted out. Not icy and controlled, but hoarse and edgy and unravelling. He wanted to make her sound like that every fucking day, for the rest of… for the rest of forever. For as long as was humanly possible.

  Evan hooked one of Ruth’s legs over his shoulder, opening her up beneath him. So fucking close. Soon they’d be closer.

  But the sharp, biting arousal tightening his core was accompanied by softer sensations. The warmth in his chest that only she elicited.

  He touched his forehead to hers for a moment, felt her heavy breaths against his cheek. “Ruth,” he murmured. “You’re so… I’ve never felt like this before.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Like what?” She whispered back.

  He didn’t know. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t find the words. But he settled for, “Perfect. I feel like everything is perfect.”

  And she, always a surprise, flashed him a wicked little smile and shifted her hips. “I wonder how you’ll feel when you actually—”

  “Shut up,” he snorted.

  “Isn’t that my line?”

  He kissed her. Not just because he wanted to distract her—because he had a suspicion that she might need it in a second—but because he simply couldn’t not.

  Here was Ruth, and she was his, and therefore, he kissed her.

  She wound her arms around his neck and sighed. Evan chose that moment to push the aching head of his cock into her, just a little. Just an inch. Her pussy clung to him immediately, the suction tighter than even her mouth had been.

  And her mouth had been fucking good.

  He moved his kisses to her cheek, her jaw, and held still. “You okay?”

  “Mmhm.” The sound was strained, a body that had been fluid around him suddenly rigid.

  He looked down at her. “Don’t do that. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

  She exhaled, closing her eyes. “Right. Okay. Just… stay still for a second. Kiss me.”

  Evan obliged. He was aware of the fact that, because of his size—or specifically, girth—he had to be careful with people, the first time. He didn’t care if he had to wait a minute, or five, or ten, for someone to get used to him.

  He did care about the fact that Ruth seemed suddenly hesitant beneath him, her kisses soft and uncertain, her body stiff.

  “Talk to me,” Evan whispered against her lips. “We talk now. Remember?”

  “Right.” He felt her smile. That was a good sign. “Sorry. I just hate being awkward.”

  “What’s awkward?” He reached between their bodies and brushed a finger over her clit. When she clenched around him, he thought he might come on the spot.

  She gave a soft moan before answering, her voice slightly breathless, “The fact that you had to stop. Because I—”

  “I haven’t stopped.” He caught her earlobe between his teeth, sucked the soft curve. “I’m right here.”

  “I think I’m nervous,” she blurted out.

  “That’s okay. I’m definitely nervous.”

  “What are you nervous about?” Her brows were raised, her lips tilted at the corners. And he felt her relax, just a little bit.

  “This is very high-stakes for me,” he said gravely. “Since you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, and everything.”

  She laughed. “If I were in a demonstrative mood I migh
t say that you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”

  “I already knew that.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You thought you knew that.”

  “Nah, I knew. You stare at my chest a lot.”

  Ruth gave a gasp of outrage, and Evan muffled it with a kiss, laughing and open-mouthed and clumsy and perfect. She sank her hands into his hair and tugged, and he thought nothing could feel so divine as Ruth pulling him closer, needing him. Then she wrapped a leg around his waist, and he felt her open for him, just a little, and sank deeper.

  She gasped against his mouth. It wasn’t a pained gasp, but achingly sweet and hungry. Evan reached between them again and found the swollen nub of her clit, massaging with his thumb. And then he waited as she moaned, as she whimpered, as she tilted her hips and pulled him deeper with each languid movement.

  Evan maintained his control, reigned himself in, until he was completely buried inside her. Silken heat surrounded him, caressing his cock, ratcheting up his lust, but still he kept his head. He kissed her, hard, as he began to move—slowly, so slowly. His tongue slid against hers with all the frenzy that his hips could not display. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t hurt her.

  Then she sank her nails into his shoulder and moaned, “Harder.”

  Evan swallowed roughly. “Are you sure—?”

  “Fuck, yes, I’m sure.” She arched against him, pushing her breasts into his chest. “Please. I need…” She trailed off with a gasp as he twisted his hips, driving into her with more force. “That. I need that. Fuck.”

  He grasped her arse, tilting her hips up, holding her in place. And then he let his control slip.

  “Oh my God,” she hissed, thrusting up to meet him, throwing her head back. Evan grunted as he pounded into her, every movement punctuated by the satisfying smack of flesh against flesh. Sweat dripped down his brow as he gritted his teeth, because Jesus, fuck, he wanted to come, but the look of ecstasy on Ruth’s face wasn’t something he could bear to take away.