Page 58 of Well, Actually
Instinctually, I move, seeking friction against his thigh, but then I lock my muscles, forcing myself to be calm.
“Uh-uh,” Rylie says, a dark wickedness to his voice. He leans over me, palms on either side of my head, caging me. My heart hammers as I take in the wild flush of his cheeks,his heated focus, the way he licks his lower lip like he’s so hungry for me he can’t stand it. I’ve never been so excited to be trapped. “Don’t you dare stop yourself, Eva. Fucking use me.”
Something in me untethers, his words a spark that starts a wildfire, my inhibitions burning away. I lift my head until my lips crash against his, my pelvis grinding against the rough cotton covering his thigh. I don’t know what this is, this greedy, uncontrollable thing that has me so desperate to be close to him I might scream if I don’t get more of his weight on top of me.
But Cooper’s there, his hand cradling the back of my neck, tips of his fingers digging in with just the right amount of pressure. He kisses me like I hope he’ll fuck me, deep and dirty and consuming. I feel his hardness pressed against my hip bone, the tautness of his muscles as I drag my nails down his chest and stomach.
Rylie groans. “God, Eva. You’re so…” He doesn’t let me hear the rest, burrowing his face against my chest, his words vibrating against my skin. We’re still for a moment—well, as still as we can manage, our hips moving in small, desperate nudges, hands gripping and kneading. He breathes me in, a deep, shaky breath, like the scent of my skin is more vital to him than oxygen. He lifts his head again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Rylie readjusts us, looping one hand around my waist and lifting me farther up the bed. He settles fully on the mattress, kneeling between my spread legs. I’m in a haze, limbs heavy and pulsing with desire, letting him move my body wherever he wants it.
“Can I take this off?” he asks roughly, snapping one of the straps of my bra. The bite of it makes me jerk, a hot pulse of pleasure scorching through me.
“Fuck. Please.”
His movements are smooth as he reaches under me to the clasp, but I feel a slight tremor in his fingers as he unhooks it, gently dragging the straps down my arms. It’s so different from how it was all those years ago, the tenderness in his touch, the way he’s savoring me instead of rushing to the finish. He pauses again, jaw set, staring at my exposed breasts, down my stomach, up to my flushed face.
He traces the tips of his fingers from my belly button up the center of my body, and it feels like something in me is unzipping, like I’m coming apart at the seams.
Rylie’s hand returns to my neck, and he holds me there, palm at my nape and thumb at my throat with a pressure that’s both reverence and demand, and for some absurd reason, I know I’d give him anything he asks of me right now.
“I’m going to make this so fucking good for you,” he says, then dips his head, kissing me, this time unhurried. The ease with which he’s touching me, like he has a lifetime to memorize every inch but he’s not going to waste a second, has me squirming against him, desperate for more and wanting to hide all at the same time.
“This is… this is just part of it, right?” I pant into his mouth. His hips grind harder against mine.
“Part of what?” He groans as I take his lower lip between my teeth and bite. Hard.
“Part of the whole making-up-for-being-an-asshole thing?”
He pulls back, eyes suddenly serious through the haze of lust. “This can be whatever you want it to be.”
I panic at the flash of a thought, that I want it to besomething. I kick the idea out of my head before it can put down roots, sprinting in the opposite direction. Even in the delirium, I manage to give him a slow, deviant smile. “I want you to fuck me like you’re sorry for letting me down the first time.”
He grunts, his mouth going to the column of my throat, sucking until I arch into him, then he bites the spot, making me gasp. “That was a given.”
Rylie’s hands trail down my torso, cupping my hips and notching me firmer against him. He moves me up and down, my pussy dragging against the hard ridge of his erection. “Tell me how you like it,” he demands. Pleads.
My head tips back, eyes fluttering closed as I focus on the feeling of him. Pleasure rises through me, ankles, thighs, pelvis, chest, head, until I’ll float away from it. But it’s not enough. I squeeze my eyes more tightly, fighting the swell of embarrassment trying to tug me out of the moment.
“Since we only have this one time and I have nothing to lose,” I rush out, hoping he thinks the fracture in my voice is from desire and not nerves. “I might as well let you know I’m on an SSRI so it can kind of take a long time or not happen at all and I know how frustrating that can be for the other person and I just don’t want you to get annoyed or—”
One of Rylie’s hands is back at the angle of my jaw, his thumb over my lips. My eyes flash open and lock with his. He drags his fingertips from my mouth, down my throat until he cups my neck with steadying pressure. “Eva, just this once, I demand you shut up.”
I huff in outrage, rearing back to snap at him, but he keepsme in his gentle grip, his steely expression making my words die on my tongue.
“Annoyance doesn’t fucking exist in this room, in what we’re about to do,” he says, voice low and jagged as a serrated knife’s edge. “I will fuck you any way you want. Any speed, any position. I will go down on you all fucking night if that’s what it takes to make you come, and I will do it with a goddamn smile on my face the entire time. Do you understand me?”
I don’t say anything, lips parted and breath ragged. He gives me a gentle shake.
“I asked you a question.”
I nod.
His smile is wicked, outrageously delighted. He licks his lips, eyes making a leisurely circuit of my body, then back up. “Good. Now tell me what you like.”
You,some desperate, delusional part of me whispers. I shake the thought away. “I don’t know,” I say instead.
Rylie’s eyebrows notch down with his frown. “What?”
