Lie to Me (31 page)

He held it up in front of her.  “Take it.”

“What?” she whispered huskily.

“Take it.”

“But-”

His grin was a little more wicked.  “You’re putting it on me, babe.”

“Me?”  Her eyes widened even as her heart picked up pace at just the thought of rolling the condom down that thick phallus.  “I’ve never put a condom on in my life!”

His smile grew wider, more wicked.  “Just follow my directions and we’ll do fine.”

In a movement that left her admiring but not astounded, mostly because she knew how strong he was, Ryder braced his arms and feet on the sofa and lifted off her, holding himself above her.

They both looked down at his rock-hard abdomen to where his shaft, which looked equally as rock hard, curved up his belly.  It was thick, the tip leaking a little.

Slowly Ryder’s gaze rose to snag onto hers, humour mixed in with the heat in his eyes.  “Think you can handle that, babe?”

Handle it?  It made her feel faint at just the sight.  It also made her want to taste him, but her courage only went so far.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she said brazenly, “I can handle anything you give me.”   It would have sounded a lot better if she wasn’t so breathless.

His laugh was low, shamelessly immoral.  “We’ll see.”

“Yeah,” she croaked.  “We will.”  Before she lost her courage, she took the condom from him.  “You’ll eat your words.”

“I’d rather eat you.”  Now his laugh was totally debauched, matching the gleam in his eyes. “And I will later. But for now, I want you to pinch the end of the condom between your fingertips.”

Okay, she might be a novice at condom usage, but she wasn’t a total idiot.  She’d read books, even watched an x-rated movie her parents had no idea she’d found in her brother Bill’s room when she was a teenager.  No one nowadays grew up without knowing the rudimentaries of condom usage.

Pinching the end of the condom carefully, she reached down to place it against the blunt head of Ryder’s shaft.

Christ, it was hot, the head a little spongy, but the shaft when she slid the fingertips of her other hand under the head to encircle it was so hard, so thick, that she wondered if she’d even get the condom on, much less fit his shaft inside her.

Ryder was still, so very still, poised above her, the muscles in his arms and chest bunching as she shifted against him, his chest rising as he took a deep breath in when she touched him, her fingers playing along his shaft.

“Use your thumbs and fingers,” he ordered in a voice harsh with need.  “Roll it down me.”

She was afraid she’d bungle it, her hands shaking with her own desire, the sensation of his manhood against her fingers, the life-giving seed that glimmered from the little slit making her secrets weep a little more, her insides flutter as her sheath shivered with prurience.

He dipped his head, placing his mouth against her ear, his breath hot.  “Roll it all the way down, babe.  Now.”  When she obeyed slowly, delighting in the new sensations of his shaft against her hands, he sucked in a deep breath, let it out ardently against her skin, and then nipped her throat sharply.  “You want to play, babe?  I’ll play with you later.”  His promise was dark.  “But right now you do what you’re told.  Get that rubber on me.”

The blatant need in his voice, the voracity of it, emboldened her, made her turn her head so that her mouth was against his ear in turn.  Her voice was pure teasing heat.  “And if I don’t?”

He didn’t move an inch.  “I’m coming into you regardless.”  The darkness of his voice now held an erotic threat.  “And there’ll be a reckoning afterwards.”  His head turned slightly, nuzzling her cheek.  “It’s not wise to prod the beast right now.’

“I kind of thought you’d be doing the prodding.”  Then, before he could reply, she slid her hand down him, taking the rest of the condom in one smooth motion to sheath his shaft, trapping the seed within the latex confines.

His breath sucked in harshly and he shoved upwards, arms straightening, his eyes burning down into hers as she fell back on the cushion.

She could feel him, see him, and it was all dark, hedonistic heat.  The carnal light in his eyes burned, his jaw tight, his gaze locked on hers.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, little sparks of desire pulling low in her belly, strings of erotic nerves pulsing inside her.

She looked up at him, her lips parting as she felt the tip of his latex-covered shaft nudge at her entrance, the moistness of her body making his pathway easier as he flexed his hips and slowly, without mercy, he breached her once more, only this time he didn’t stop.

Nor did he stop looking at her, his pupils dilating with hedonistic pleasure as he moved unhesitatingly onwards, forcing her tight sheath to accommodate him, driving inwards in a slow, steady push until he was seated deep inside her, and then he stopped, poised above her, waiting, watching.

God, she was so full.  His shaft filled her, an invasion that had her sheath involuntarily clasping around him, unable to do more than try to grasp the thick, hard length that had tunnelled through and now rested so deep inside her that she could actually feel his heavy sac nestled against her perineum.

It was magical, scary, and carnal all at once.

Ryder started to move, a slow slide back that had every nerve ending sputtering and flaring, her breath drawing from her in a low, long gasp, and still he held her gaze, silently demanding she look at him as he began the long, slow, sensuous push back into her.

It wasn’t a slide, it had power.  It wasn’t sweet, it was forceful.  It wasn’t tentative, it was determined.

It should have been frightening, instead it drove her own passion higher, had her reaching for him, his name on her lips, her heart aching even as her body ached, both for the one man, both for different reasons.

Her body rejoiced that he was in her, against her.

Her heart rejoiced that he was with her.

Though Ryder’s hips were against hers, he kept upright on his arms, muscles bunching easily as he rode her, and all she could do was hold onto his forearms, dig her nails in when he denied her the chance to wrap her arms around him.

He made her take him, controlled them, and the whole time he kept their gazes locked.  Even when her eyes drifted shut, when she arched as he shifted and nudged something deep inside her that sent spirals of erotic need coiling through her, he watched her.

His hips fastened a little, but the pace he set was still too slow, just as it was relentless.  But the force of it was undeniable, his hips shoving hers into the sofa cushions as he thrust in, hard little bounces with the force of his unyielding thrusts.

The heat inside her grew, spread as he ruthlessly rubbed against the sweet spot inside her sheath, the position of his thick shaft as it massaged the spot, hit it, scraped over it and back again driving her higher, hotter, until she was arching beneath him, her head back against the pillow as she bit her lip, trying to stop the cries, the pleadings, from spilling forth.

Suddenly he was there, arched over her, riding her harder, his mouth taking hers ruthlessly, tongue invading the tender recesses as his shaft invaded her body, plundering both depths.

Releasing her mouth suddenly, he ordered harshly, “Don’t hide those cries from me, babe.  I want to hear them.  I want to hear you scream my name.”  He drew back sudden and fast, shaft almost leaving her altogether, but before she could say anything, protest or do anything, he thrust forward hard and then set a punishing, pounding pace.

She couldn’t think, could only feel as he rode her with a carnal rapacity that had her vision exploding, blood roaring through her veins, her nerves spiralling, her heart thundering.  “Oh God!  Ryder!”

“Scream it,” he ground out.  “Scream my name.”

Pulling back he shoved in powerfully, lodging high, tearing the scream from her throat as she arched under him, his name filling the room as he rode her ruthlessly, pounding into her, his head dropping to swallow her scream, kissing her with a voracity that shook her to her soul.

He kissed her like he was never going to let her go, his breath her breath, his taste her taste, his body part of her.

One big hand gripped her hip, holding her for his pleasure, their pleasure, keeping her under him as he pumped harder, his shaft swelling inside her, filling her fuller than ever, dragging through her as he worked, every thrust and drag of him inside her, his body sliding against hers in hard muscle and hot skin, winding her higher, pushing her further, his mouth a hot, moist cavern that claimed hers.

His grip was relentless, his pounding hips ungiving, yet he struck her sweet spot every time, making her writhe in ecstasy, forcing her into a vortex of need, sensation, emotion and all-consuming hunger and blistering desire.

One last thrust that had Ryder roaring her name, fingers biting into her hip, and she shattered, falling apart, sucked down into a wild whirlpool of pure heat before flinging her back out into a splintering light.

She didn’t know how long she was out floating in a pleasurable haze of aftermath, but the coolness creeping over her brought her back to reality.

Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Ryder lifting himself off her.

His eyes were tender, the tenderest she’d ever seen them as he dropped a light kiss on her lips, whispering, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Straightening, he pulled his pants up, the zip gaping open, his hand working the slick latex off himself even as he turned and strode out of the lounge room.

Blinking at the empty doorway, she let the knowledge sink into her.

Oh God, she’d just made mad, passionate love with Ryder.  Again.

No, wait.  Not love, he didn’t love her.  She sat up, wincing at both the sharper ache of the stitches in her arm and the unaccustomed tenderness between her legs.  Hard, heavy, hot sex, yeah, that was more like it.  Cripes, no wonder his ex girlfriends came back wanting more, reluctant to give him up.  Now she could understand it.

It also made her shiver, a measure of self-disgust filling her.  Was she going to be like that?  Always wanting more?  And even more pathetically, she’d never even been a girlfriend.

Suddenly self-conscious, she stood, pulling her nightie down and wrapping her arms around her waist, not quite knowing where to look, what to do.  For sure she couldn’t just stand there in her nightie, Ryder’s scent on her skin.  She looked down at herself.  She needed more than the nightie.

Oh God, she couldn’t face him like this.  It was going to be awkward as it was.  What would he think, that she was waiting for more?

Quickly she went to the lounge room doorway, glancing across to the bathroom where she heard Ryder moving around.  Taking a deep breath, she moved fast, stealthily, making her bedroom and shutting the door quietly.  Putting her back to it, she took another deep breath, closing her eyes.

Crap on a stick, now what?  Maybe if she stayed in here he’d go away.  He’d just walk away, glad he wouldn’t have to see her, talk to her.  Opening her eyes, she looked across to the window.  Maybe she could climb out of it and make her escape. 

She wasn’t a coward by nature, but just the thought of looking Ryder in the eyes right now had her quaking.  How did one look at the man who’d literally made her scream his name, who’d thrust into her body?  Not to mention ordered her to put a condom on him, and how, and then expected it?

She’d heard of his prowess in bed - and on tables, against walls, the back seat of a car, over an armchair, pretty much anywhere the man could get a woman on her back, belly or feet - but she’d never thought in a million years that she’d feel that prowess.

Christ, she’d never be able to look at the sofa in quite the same way.  As for relaxing on it?  That had just been shot to shit.

“Dee?”  A knock sounded on the door, making her jump.

“Uh - yes?”  She cringed at her still breathless voice.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”  She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.  “Just…um…getting dressed.”

There was silence.

“I’ll be right out.”

More silence, then, “Okay.”

Cripes, he was waiting for her.  She’d have to face him, there was no way around it.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she strode across the room, deliberately blanking her mind, moving on automatic.

Yanking off her nightie, she pulled on panties and bra, pausing as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.  Her jaw tightened, her heart thudding heavily.  Normally she was happy, had accepted herself and her generous curves a long time ago, concentrated on living her life and having fun, doing it her own quiet, slightly sarcastic way, and she was happy.  But now, really looking at herself, she wondered.  What did a man like Ryder see in her?  She was no slim nymph, no coy, sexy woman.  Her curves were over-generous, her breasts heavy, her hips more child-bearing than come hither.  Even her cheeks were rounded, what her Dad laughingly called ‘apple cheeks’.  The only thing going for her was her hair, long, blonde, thick, soft, her crowning glory as it were.

Ryder’s body was perfection, hard, strong, muscular, tall.  He had the body of a Greek god and the looks of a sinful angel.