Page 57 of The SEAL's Duchess
For the first time in forever, she believed it.
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Ryder remainedon his knees between Ivy’s thighs, hands still locked around her, his forehead against hers.
He was still processing what the fuck just happened.
She slumped back against the cushions, chest rising in uneven bursts.
He hadn’t touched another woman since Miranda. But watching Ivy break apart in his hands—seeing her eyes go wide, hearing his name on her lips like it had been dragged from the depths of her soul—it awoke something he’d buried so deep he’d almost forgotten it existed.
He rocked backward, pressed his lips to the inside of her leg, lingering there while his heart slowed.
Her skin was fever-hot, salt-sweet. He could still taste her and feel the aftershocks shaking through her as if her body hadn’t learned how to hold itself again.
Her fingers slipped into his hair, stroking slowly, soothing.Christ. He froze under the gentleness, soaking it in. It had been years since anyone had touched him without asking for something back. No need or demand. Just care.
Outside, the storm continued its assault, but in here, there was only firelight and the uneven drag of their breath. He could stay like this forever—on his knees holding her while she came back to herself.
But then she moved, tugging insistently at his shoulders. “Come here,” she said, her voice husky.
He resisted, muscles locked. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he could handle more of this without losing his fucking mind. But she kept pulling, coaxing, until he let her draw him up onto the couch next to her.
But instead of curling into his side like he expected, she swung one leg over his lap and straddled him.
For a second, he just looked at her.
Flushed and glowing, firelight dancing over her skin. Loose, damp strands of hair clung to her temple, and he reached up without thinking—brushed them back, fingers taking their time.
Her eyes fluttered closed under his touch, lashes casting shadows in the gilded light.
She looked like something out of a dream, and yet he was wide awake.
Jesus. She was breathtaking.
His hands found her hips, but every muscle in his body tensed.
He didn’t do this. Didn’t let anyone close enough to climb his defenses. Close enough to take.
“Your turn.” Her hands flattened on his chest, heat blazing straight through to his bones. Her eyes locked on his, the same way he’d studied her.
She was mappinghimnow.
When she kissed him, it wasn’t soft or tentative. It was deep and confident. His blood surged south so fast it made him dizzy. She was staking her ground, and fuck if that didn’t make his cock harder than he’d been in years.
Her nails scraped lightly over his abs, and he groaned into her mouth. But when her hands reached for his belt, he caught her wrists, breathless.
“Ivy.” His voice came out almost a growl. “You just went through hell.” He turned her hands palms upward, exposing all the nicks and cuts. “You should rest.”
She didn’t flinch. Just looked at him with the same determined expression.
“I want this.” She framed his face with her palms. “I want you, Ryder.”
Her words made his breath stall. The way she looked at him—like she wasn’t letting go, maybe never.
“Christ, Ivy.”
She smiled—soft, but victorious too. Then her hands were on his belt, and this time he let her.
