Page 53 of On Your Knees

“You want me to prove I’m not too old? I will bend you over my bed and fuck the sass right out of your mouth.”

I snort as he walks us through his bedroom and into his en suite, placing me on the counter. “They say you’re only as old as the woman you fuck, so I guess you shaved a few years off.”

He smirks at me, and damn, he is handsome. It should be illegal for every part of his body to be in proportion.

I lick my lips as he untucks the fitted polo that stretches tight across his broad chest. He lifts it slightly, teasing a slither of his sun-kissed skin, but doesn’t rush as he pulls it over his head and throws it into the hamper.

He steps out of his custom-made shoes and unbuckles his belt. In one pull, he removes it, and wetness pools between my legs at the snap.

I bite down on my lip as I watch him undo his golf pants and slide them down his thick legs. I can’t look away, not when every movement feels like an invitation.

Once he is in nothing but his expensive boxer briefs, he steps into me, spreading my legs so he can move between them.

He slowly undoes the buttons on his shirt I still wear as my chest rises and falls in excitement. When he gets to the last button and opens the material, he licks his lips as he looks at my breasts.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

I scoff. Accepting the compliment is hard; I’m really nothing special. Ridge drags me down off the counter, flipping me around so I’m facing the mirror, his hand twisting in my hair.

“Repeat after me. I am beautiful exactly how I am.”

Doing as he asks, I repeat the words back to him. He seems pleased and grinds his cock against my lower back.

“I am the kind of woman people don’t forget.”

Again I repeat his words, and he growls in approval as he uses his free hand to tug down his briefs before stepping out of them.

“This is the body he can’t keep his hands off. I turn him on with just a look.”

My knees wobble and I whisper the words as he leans down to kiss my neck.

He spins me and pulls me back up into his arms, and instinctively I circle my legs around his waist as he walks us toward the shower. Ridge’s lips never leave my skin as he sucks and nips everywhere he can reach. “You’re ruining me, Aspen, and everything I once believed in.”

“Ditto,” I whisper.

Any walls I had when I moved in here, he and Zeland have smashed through. I no longer care how bad it will hurt if they leave me. Some wounds are worth it. These men are worth it. Now I need to come clean with Arlo. The longer I drag it out, the more chance he will walk away. He has become such an important part of my life and I don’t want to risk losing him.

Ridge steps under the streaming water—I fucking love this shower, with the jets that spray us from everyangle. As my back hits the tiles, he uses one arm to hold me up, while his free hand slides his cockhead up and down along my pussy, then he buries himself inside me.

“I will never tire of fucking you,” he growls against my skin.

The warm water washes over us as he thrusts into me, slowly. Ridge isn’t fucking me right now—this feels like more, and it scares the shit out of me. But not enough to stop me from coming all over his cock, all the while screaming his name.

Chapter Twenty

Zeland

I have zero impulse control. It’s how I found myself stalking,no, studying Arlo—where he goes, the places he gets his coffee. It is how I “accidentally” bumped into him last week, and now we have coffee together every morning. Aspen has sent him another location and time, and she wants to tell him it’s us, though I’ve asked her to give me a little more time to get to know him first. She gets to spend most days with him, and he is comfortable around her, but if he found out his boss lied to him and fucked him, he might run. I can’t have that.

I don’t obsess over people, not until Aspen bulldozed into my life. Now Arlo... there’s somethingspecial about him. Maybe it’s his innocence that I like—it’s refreshing.

Everyone at Ridgeland blows smoke up my ass. I know it and they know it, yet I let them continue. It’s great for my ego.

Arlo seems to be starstruck by Ridge, but not by me. He watches Aspen and me together with an almost curious avarice. I know she has told him about us and how our dynamic works, so here I am putting in the effort to get to know the guy. It’s why I’m standing at his front door with a box of pastries and three coffees. I know he lives with his mom, which is adorable. I wish my mother was an actual mother and wanted to be my best friend.

After I knock on the door, a woman early to mid-forties opens it with a smile. “Hello, can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Zeland. I’m here to see Arlo.”

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