Page 57 of The Press Secretary's Passion
“I like you, Jules,” he tells me gently. “A lot.”
“Ryan—”
“And I know you’re scared, but we’ll work through that.”
“I… uhh….” But I don’t get the chance to say anything else, because he lightly touches his lips to mine. When he feels me melt into his body, only then does he deepen the kiss.
Ryan ends the kiss and lets me go, but only to take my hand and lead me back to the sofa, where he sits down right smack in the middle with his long legs spread wide. He looks strong and utterly masculine sitting on my prissy sofa, and it’s distracting.
That is until he begins to tenderly rub his hands up and down my arms. The soft motion starts to relax the muscles in my body, and without words I gentle toward him again.
He tucks his fingers in the waistband of my sweatpants and slides them down my legs. I step out of them, and he kicks them aside, leaving me in nothing but a tank and a pair of cotton panties with thick lace trim at the waist.
I watch as his eyes heat when he sees me, but he banks the fire for the time being. He takes my hand again and leads me to lay over his lap on my belly. I wonder what he’s doing when he cradles me with one arm and then begins to massage my back with his free hand. Ryan kneads the tension from my back and shoulders, and I start to purr like a kitten.
He strokes down my back, each pass taking him closer and closer to my backside, but he doesn’t touch it. He grazes the lace trim of my panties, and then his hand moves back up to my shoulders, only to make another teasing pass.
“I like these,” he says, his voice deeper with his arousal as he plays with the edge of the leg of my panties.
“I can tell,” I reply quietly. And I can. His hard length is pressing into my belly. It’s not uncomfortable in the least. And I get a secret thrill that my utterly not sexy comfy clothes turn him on. They’re just cotton panties, nothing fancy, but still, Ryan seems to appreciate them.
He lets go of them and goes back to stroking my lower back. Over and over, only this time, he lets his heavy palm glide down over my ass and then back up again. Each pass he makes takes him farther and farther down my backside.
I gasp when his fingers glide over my pussy. They’re there and then they’re gone. He moves back up to my shoulders again, teasing me with hints as he makes a random pass over my center every so often, and I begin to press my backside high in the air, hoping Ryan will take the hint without words.
He cups me between my legs with his palm. “In case you didn’t get it, I really like these.”
I don’t reply to his words, but I know I smile a cat that got her cream smile, and I tuck my face into his elbow so he won’t see it.
He slides his hand down the back of my panties and brushes over my clit and through my wetness. There’s no denying how turned on I am now. And he knows it too, if his deep groan is anything to go by.
Ryan slides his hand out of my panties and then tugs them down my hips. I spread my legs as wide as my panties still around my thighs will allow, and he does not disappoint when he plunges two fingers deep inside me.
“Yes,” I pant as he fucks me with his fingers.
I grip his thigh in my hands for leverage and push up so I can rock my hips back against his hand. He pushes down the front of my tank so my breasts are exposed, and the cool air of the room stings against my overheated skin, but it only serves to drive me higher and higher.
He catches my breast as it swings while I rock harder and faster against him, and he cups it in his fist. The feel of the calluses on his hand abrades my skin in the best of ways. He slides his hand across my torso and pinches the nipple on my other breast, and I have to dig my nails into his thigh to ground myself, but it’s no use. I’m flying high.
While I’m still coming, Ryan picks me up and plants me on my hands and knees on the sofa, and I drop down so that my face is pressed into the cushions, unable to hold myself up any longer.
And then he’s right behind me. I feel him working at his belt and the fly of his jeans, and then he is right there. He drives into me with one quick thrust. I let out a moan at the full feeling of him inside me, stretching me all at once.
Something in him seems to snap at my reaction, because he grips my hips hard in his hands as he pumps in and out of me, harder and faster. He’s lost his tight grip on his control, and I revel in it.
“Yes!” I chant as I whip my head back and press into him. He grips my hair and pulls me up on my hands so I’m closer to him, and he crushes his mouth to mine. I open immediately under him and let him plunder my mouth while he continues to fuck me on the sofa.
And then it builds and builds. It’s going to roll over me again, and I feel my walls tighten around him.
“Yes,” I gasp as I drop back down to press my chest against the cushions, and the rough knit of the material abrades my already sensitive nipples. It’s too much and not enough, and I cry out my demands. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”
“Yes,” he growls as he plunges faster and faster, driving us both close to the edge. “Fuck.”
“Harder,” I whimper as I dig my nails into the cushions and hold on. “Please. Harder.”
He pounds into me, and then I come.
“Fuck,” he bites out as he drives deep again and again. “Yes, baby.” And then he plants himself deep inside me and follows me into oblivion.
