Page 117 of Clashing
Climbing off the bed, he set his hand on my thigh, then dragged his palm up as he made his way toward the headboard. His lips lowered to mine in a deep kiss I needed after the roughness.
He had this amazing way of knowing when I needed to be untied. He pulled back and caressed my cheek. “I know.” He released my wrists and kissed both.
I locked my arms around his neck and guided his lips to mine. He threaded his fingers through my hair, deepening the kiss. It ended when he pulled back and slid an arm under my back, the other under my legs so he could lift me.
My brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”
He kissed my forehead and carried me toward the bathroom. “Cleaning you up.”
My heart fluttered. I didn’t know why. I didn’t need much care after rough sex, though I’d heard that was unusual. For some reason, I didn’t mind going to sleep right away without reassurance, but the fact he wanted to take care of me after how intense we’d been sparked butterflies in my stomach.
In the bathroom, he set me down in the shower and did something I never expected from him. He washed me.
Kneeling in front of me, he scrubbed a sudsy washcloth not only over his come but over my entire body. Gentle, consistent circles that calmed my overexcited nerves. My eyes shut, and my legs turned to jelly when he stood and washed my hair. Strong fingers massaged my scalp, and he pulled me back against him. A contented sigh escaped me as I let his body hold mine up.
“That’s nice,” I murmured.
His response came in the form of a kiss on my shoulder. Once he was done, he spun me around and dropped to his knees. Despite thinking I couldn’t take more, he pulled my leg over his shoulder and changed my mind. I whimpered and fisted his hair. He was gentle, his movements slow and deliberate. Tantalizing and euphoric.
Once I reached yet another orgasm, he turned off the water and led me out of the shower. Another shock came when he dried me from head to toe.
Both of us naked, he carried me back to his bed and proved me wrong that I couldn’t take more. He slid his fingers into me, put his mouth on me, all gentle and so contrary to his usual tactics. He didn’t shove me into pleasure, he eased me into it. Hands drifted all over my body like a worship. Not one part of me went untouched or unappreciated. It sent my heart into overdrive and left me, more than ever, wishing this could be more.
Whether my hair was damp from the shower or from sweat, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I was trembling by the time Ryker lay over me and glided his cock into me.
“Scarlett,” he grunted, sinking his head into the crook of my neck while he slowly and gently rocked in and out of me.
This was unlike anything we’d ever done. It wasn’t a fancy position that would make me scream. Not fast. Not rough. He moved in and out at a savoring pace, allowing me to enjoy every inch of him stretching me. A divine experience that rippled through my nerves until they all stood to attention for him.
I moved my hips with his, and he planted soft kisses all over my neck. He increased the pace—gentle but deep enough to rip moans from me. His fingers weaved their way between mine, and he held my hand over my shoulder as his thrusts grew more desperate.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.
A lump formed in my throat, and I tangled my fingers in his hair. His kiss was like his hips, slow and tender, tongue caressing my mouth, similar to how he caressed inside of me. Gentle sex usually didn’t do it for me, but with Ryker, it was different.Everythingwas different with him.
He squeezed my hand and trailed his lips along my jaw and onto my neck, where a sensitive spot always made me squirm. He gently sucked and my legs locked around his waist. My climax built, my pussy clamped around him, and he let out a guttural sound that pushed me closer to the edge.
His rasped words against my ear knocked me off that edge. “That’s it, baby. Come with me.”
The sound of his voice always got me there. I gasped as the orgasm coasted through my body, every muscle humming with ecstasy. He sank into me and went rigid, groaning against my neck while his come emptied inside me.
Our chests heaved, and I melted against the bed, spent. My body refused movement. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. At least, not until Ryker’s hand landed on my face. I opened my eyes and found him staring, his thumb rubbing my bottom lip.
“Scarlett,” he murmured, then kissed me. Sweet. Cherishing.
My eyes stung when he massaged circles into my neck with his thumb. My chest swelled at his kiss that felt so . . .
So . . .
Loving.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against mine. Powerful eyes took mine hostage, and my breath caught as I fought against the tears.
I loved him even more than I had before.
Chapter thirty-seven
All of You
