Can't Touch This (Can't Touch This #1)

Missionary was a craving I had to fulfil, and I was glad he felt the same way.

I gasped as he slid inch by inch inside me, pushing firm but gentle past my body’s first denial and sliding deep and big.

I shivered at the fullness, the rightness.

And when he moved for the first time.

Oh wow.

I lost coherent thought and let him cast me away.

Our bodies joined perfectly. There was no quip about touching it or riding it. No laughter. But there was connection and desire and that was so damn powerful, I ached to come and he’d only just entered me.

His mouth descended on mine again.

We kissed and fucked to a steady beat, slowly increasing in tempo the higher we climbed.

My legs tightened around his hips as I encouraged him deeper, faster, harder.

“Christ, Ves.” He buried his face in my hair. “I need to come. The past two days have been too fucking much.”

My head tossed back as I welcomed tingly sparks of a building orgasm. My inner muscles popped and fizzed, gathering a storm. “Come. I’ll come with you. Just…don’t stop.”

“I can’t stop. I doubt I’ll ever be able to stop.”

The bed rocked as we fought together, against each other, for each other, driving each other higher and higher.

The mattress bounced. The bedframe creaked. I lost connection with the outside world as Ryder shoved me up the pinnacle of pleasure and I leapt.

Oh.

My.

God.

“Yes!” My pussy fisted him, setting off his own release which in turn made mine so much stronger. On and on. Wave after wave.

I’d never come so damn hard or so absolute.

By the time the last bliss stopped torturing us, I was a noodle.

We were both breathless as we slowly returned from heaven, floating back to earth.

We stared into each other’s eyes and there was so much to say, so much to ask.

But it was late.

We were emotionally spent.

It had been both a travesty of an evening and a triumph.

It was time to sleep, to let what we’d just done settle, and face a new day together.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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Ryder