Page 82 of Love Complicated

“Okay. . . .” My words are a whisper, but I know he hears it. What the fuck am I even saying? I’m already agreeing to be his? How’d that happen?

Ridge’s mouth twists, a half grin that fades quickly as his eyes drop, his fingertips moving and squeezing my upper thighs as he groans, a low, throaty sound I want more of.

When his hands fall away, he leans in, supporting his weight with his arms beside my head. His cock—still unfortunately confined in his jeans—presses against me when he does this. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

My heart thuds in my ears, my breath panting. “So bad.”

Moving his right hand, he slides my hips toward his, both hands now on my hips as he lifts and drags. “That’smygirl.”

Like how he emphasizedmygirl? Yeah, me too. My hearts swells, along with his need.

He grinds into me, again, the friction of our jeans so right, so good, but I want more.

Ridge pauses, watching my reaction proudly.

My hands move to his chest and then his hair, wanting to fist that beautiful black hair between my fingers.

He lets me pull at his hair, trying to make him come forward, but then he stops, taking my wrists and pinning them down on the floor. “You’re not running this show,I am.”

Pressing forward, his cock grinds into me again.

“You like that?” he asks against my lips, his breath blowing over me.

I can’t even respond because while he asks this, he doesn’t stop moving his hips against mine.

Writhing under his hands, I swivel my hips on my own will without his direction. When Ridge comes forward, his chest is heaving with labored breaths, granting me another angle. I kiss his rough and tensed cheek, his jaw, and then his lips, anywhere I can access.

“That’s it. . . come for me, baby,” he grunts, plunging his tongue into my mouth.

The warmth starts low, and it’s sudden, first a slow burn and then it intensifies, like the pop of a firecracker.

Nothing about this compares to what I’ve experienced before. It’s crazy to me that Ridge has nothing on Austin, and he hasn’t even entered me yet.

Ridge’s eyes are low, watching his dick rubbing against me. When I shake against him, my heels dig into his ass, begging him to come closer, harder, anything to make this last longer.

He does,oh God, does he.

His breath comes out in short gasps—much like mine—when he sees me falling apart for him. I squirm, I shift, anything to get just the right angle and then it happens.

Ridge Lucas gives me an orgasm.

Look at me there on the floor. A woman denied something for so long, and now she’s looking like she’s having a seizure. But a good tingly, body arching seizure with a happy ending.

“Oh God!” My eyes squeeze shut, and I throw my arms around his tensed shoulders hanging onto him and clawing at his skin.

“That’s it.” His rough voice is low and tense as he whispers to me. “There you go. . . fall apart for me.”

One hand moves from beside me, wrapping around the back of my neck and bringing his eager kiss to mine. He’s excited, and his kiss shows me, wild tongue and frantic gasps telling me how beautiful the sight before him is.

My attention goes to the clanking of his buckle and then the faint sounds of his zipper.

Oh God, he’s taking them off.

I gulp, still panting. He smiles at me—dirty and sinful—when he notices I’m watching him. “You want me to take these off, right?”

I nod, immediately knowing that me having an orgasm from dry humping must have gotten to him more than he’s willing to admit. It takes him longer than I would like for him to get his jeans off and then he’s searching for the condom in his wallet.

“That was fucking hot,” he pants, barely able to get the words out as he rolls the condom on. I watch, carefully. He’s beautiful. Everywhere.

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