Page 39 of Between the Ropes

His words send a wave of heat crashing through me. I’m trembling beneath him, my fingers digging into his back, clinging to him as he thrusts deeper, the force of it making me gasp. His mouth captures mine in a rough, possessive kiss, his tongue tangling with mine as he drives harder into me. I moaninto his mouth, my body arching against him, and the pressure building inside me is almost unbearable.

Ryan pulls back slightly, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes are locked on mine, and there’s something primal in his gaze, something that makes my heart race even faster. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes, his voice a low rasp. His hands grip my hips tighter, holding me in place as he thrusts deeper, harder, hitting that perfect spot that has me seeing stars.

I can’t think, can’t breathe. All I can do is feel—every muscle in my body tightening as I climb higher, the tension coiling tight in my belly. Ryan’s eyes never leave mine, watching me with that intense, possessive gaze that has me unraveling beneath him. “I want you to come for me,” he growls, his voice low and commanding. “Right now. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

His words push me over the edge, the pressure inside me snapping as a mind-blowing orgasm tears through me. My whole body tenses, arching up off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, stealing my breath. I cry out his name, clutching at his shoulders as my vision goes white, the intensity of it overwhelming.

Ryan doesn’t stop. He keeps moving, his thrusts slower now, more deliberate, drawing out every last shuddering aftershock. He watches me the entire time, his eyes dark and intense, like he’s committing every second to memory. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction. “That’s my girl.”

When I finally come down, my body is trembling, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. Ryan’s still hovering above me, his eyes devouring every inch of me, like he can’t get enough. He lowers himself onto his elbows, his weight pressing into me in a way that feels comforting, grounding, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He kisses me softly, his lips gentle now, a stark contrast to the possessiveness from before. “You’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice still rough from the intensity of what just happened. He pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning my face, taking in the flush of my skin, the way I’m still panting, and he grins, that cocky, devastating grin that makes my heart skip a beat.

Ryan's hands grip my hips tightly as he shifts, pulling out slowly. His molten brown eyes are dark with lust, gaze fixed on mine. "Turn around for me, baby," he growls, his voice deep and commanding.

I shiver at the sound, my body responding before my mind catches up. I roll over, pressing my knees into the mattress, bracing myself with my hands as he positions himself behind me. His hands roam over my back, tracing my spine before they settle on my waist, pulling me back against him.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect like this,” he mutters, his voice rough and possessive. I feel the tip of him press against me again, teasing, his hips moving forward slowly, deliberately. The stretch of him as he fills me once more steals the breath from my lungs.

Ryan lets out a low, primal groan as he sinks all the way inside. His pace is torturously slow at first, each thrust deep and controlled, making me feel every inch of him. The sound of skin on skin and the heat radiating from his body sends me spiraling.

“God, you feel incredible,” he grunts, fingers digging into my hips as he picks up the pace. His thrusts become faster, more urgent, his control unraveling with each movement. “So, fucking tight. You have no idea how bad I need you.”

Every inch of my body feels like it's on fire, burning for him. I can barely hold myself up, the intensity of each thrust shaking me to my core. His hands roam from my waist to my shoulders, pulling me back against him, making me take every inch of him.I cry out his name, the pressure building, my body aching for release.

Ryan’s breath is ragged now, his voice coming out in a low growl. “Natalie... fuck... baby.” His voice is raw, filled with need, and the possessiveness in his words makes my heart race.

He leans over me, pressing his chest against my back, his mouth at my ear. "You drive me fucking crazy," he breathes, thrusting deeper, harder, his teeth grazing my shoulder. "I’m gonna come... fuck... I want to feel you fall apart around my cock again first."

His hand slips around to my front, finding the spot that sends me over the edge instantly. I gasp, my body tensing as the orgasm rips through me, so intense it feels like I might break apart. I scream his name, barely aware of anything other than him, the way he feels inside me, the way he’s completely consumed me.

Ryan growls low in his throat as my body clenches around him, his movements becoming erratic, desperate. “Fuck...” He thrusts hard one last time, and I feel him come, pulsing inside me as he groans in my ear. His entire body shudders, hips pressed tightly against me as he rides out the last wave of his release.

For a moment, neither of us moves, our bodies tangled together, breathing hard, our skin slick with sweat. He finally collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms, his breath still uneven against my neck.

“That was...” His voice is low, hoarse.

I smile, pressing a kiss to his chest, unable to form words, too overwhelmed by everything we just shared.

30

The soft glow of morning filters through the curtains as I wake up. Natalie’s still asleep beside me, her blonde hair spread across the pillow, her face peaceful. I study her for a moment, taking in the sight of her in the quiet stillness.

I’ve never felt like this before—so damn protective of someone, like I’d burn the world down to keep her safe. It’s a dangerous feeling, one that’s been brewing deep inside of me since she came into my life. Like an unstoppable force, impossible to fight.

I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, careful not to wake her. But even as I pull back, my fingers twitch with the urge to touch her again. To run my hands through her hair, to feel the rise and fall of her breath beneath my palm.

She’s mine.

I don’t even try to deny it anymore.

I leave a note on the nightstand, telling her I’m meeting Travis down at the gym. It’s routine. I thrive on it, always have. Keeps me focused, grounded. But lately, ever since Natalie, I’ve been slipping out of that structure. A part of me doesn’t mind—it’s impossible to resist being with her—but another part feels that little edge dulling. And that edge is what makes me dangerous in the ring. That edge is what makes me, me.

I shrug off the thought, closing the door behind me and heading downstairs to the gym. The empty hallways of the hotel are a stark contrast to the crowded arenas I’m used to. I like the quiet, the solitude. The gym’s empty, as usual. Perfect. I start my warm-up, pushing the thoughts of the championship, of my career, to the back of my mind. But they’re always there, gnawing at me.

About ten minutes into my workout, Travis walks in. I knew he’d show up eventually.

“Yo, champ,” he calls out, his voice echoing in the empty gym. “What’s up, man? I thought you’d be taking the day off after last night.”

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