Page 190 of Ransom

I don't stop. I keep licking, keep fingering her, until her body tenses and she cries out my name, coming hard around my fingers. I slow my movements, letting her ride out her orgasm before gently pulling away.

She turns around, sinking down onto the couch with a satisfied sigh. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes glazed. "That was..."

"Just the beginning," I say, standing up and unbuckling my belt. She watches me, her eyes darkening with desire as I strip off my clothes.

I sit down next to her, pulling her onto my lap so she's straddling me. She reaches between us, guiding me to herentrance. She sinks down onto me slowly, her eyes locked on mine, drawing out a gasp from deep within my chest.

"God, you feel so good," I groan, gripping her hips, feeling her heat envelop me. Two years she’s been mine, and I want her more today than I ever have. I slowly slip my hands under her shirt, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. With a gentle tug, I lift the fabric over her head, revealing her simple white bra. I undo the clasp, letting it fall away, leaving her exposed and utterly beautiful. Her body’s changing. John’s cooking’s put a little more weight on her. Her breasts are a little heavier. She’d call them saggy.

I call them perfect.

She smiles, a soft and sultry curve of her lips, leaning forward to kiss me. "We're magic together," she whispers against my mouth, her breath mingling with mine.

She starts to move, rising and falling on my cock, setting a slow, steady pace that drives me wild. I let her take the lead, content to watch her ride me, her tits bouncing with each movement, her head thrown back in pure pleasure.

I lean forward, capturing one of her nipples in my mouth, teasing it. She gasps, her pace faltering as I suck hard, swirling my tongue around the stiff peak. She moans, grinding against me, her hips moving in a delicious rhythm.

"Ransom... I'm close..." she pants.

I release her nipple, gripping her hips tighter. "Then come for me, baby," I say, thrusting up into her.

She cries out, her body convulsing as she comes again. The sight of her, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream, sends me over the edge. I come with a groan, spilling into her.

She collapses against me, her head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. We sit like that for a moment, our breathing syncing, our hearts pounding in tandem.

"I love you," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She leans back, a soft smile on her face. "I love you too."

I trace my fingers along Blair's spine as she nestles against my chest, both of us still catching our breath. The early evening sun streams through our living room windows, casting a golden glow across her skin.

"You know what I love most about us?" I brush my lips against her temple. "How we fit together. Not just like this, but everything. The way you roll your eyes when I'm being ridiculous. How you know exactly when to call me on my bullshit."

She chuckles, the sound vibrating against my chest. "Someone has to keep you humble."

"You always did. Even back then." I run my fingers through her hair, remembering that fierce teenage girl who wouldn't let me wallow in self-hatred. "You saw right through me from day one."

Blair lifts her head, those grey eyes searching mine. "You saw me too. Really saw me. Not the quiet, awkward girl everyone else did." Her fingers trace patterns on my chest. "You still do."

"Always will." I capture her hand, bringing it to my lips. "I spent twenty-five years comparing every woman to you. No one else stood a chance."

"Smooth talker." But her smile is soft, vulnerable in a way she rarely shows anyone else.

"Just honest." I cup her cheek, thumb stroking her skin. "You're it for me, Blair McKenna. Always have been."

She turns her face into my palm, pressing a kiss there. "It's a damn good thing you married me then. I'm grateful we found our way back."

"Me too, baby. Me too."

Blair shifts in my arms, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest. That faraway look crosses her face—the one I've come to recognize when she's thinking about her dad.

"What did you think?" Her voice is soft. "When Dad came to see you. You never really told me."

This conversation has been a long time coming. But she wasn’t ready, and it’s not something I needed to push. I knew when she was ready, she’d ask. My Blair isn’t one to hide from anything, especially the tough conversations. "Honestly? I felt like that scared fifteen-year-old kid again." I press a kiss to her temple. "Like I needed his approval, even after all these years."

"Were you angry?" Her fingers still on my skin.

"Part of me was." I capture her hand, threading our fingers together. "But mostly I was overwhelmed. Here was this man who saved my life, asking me to take care of something precious to him. And yeah, I was pissed about how things went down back then, but..."

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