Defy (Brothers of Ink and Steel Book 3) (18 page)

I think back to our encounter with the alligator, and my hand trails up the sleek brawn of his arm to the wound that’s healed well since I last saw him.

The scars developing there from the bite around his bicep reassure me that his moments with me have been etched into the epic history of his skin, like an ancient relief sculpture. 

There are no words needed, no questions to ask. We don’t deliberate or guess at what we’re doing—the possible repercussions. There will be no morning-after guilt—and honestly, on my end there wouldn’t have been any anyway. All that’s left is pure, raw need, wanting and the fulfillment of lust that blossomed the moment he smiled at me after taking on the massive reptile.

Ryder finally succumbs to his own desire as his rough, calloused hand lifts to caress the round curve of my breast.

His eyes are heavy with desire, and he burns me with slow touches that cause my skin to tingle and my heart to race.

I know the deepest fulfillment for me is gratifying the love that began when we met and only grew stronger when we were apart. In this moment, whether I die or not is finally not in the forefront of my mind—the fear and the terror recedes in the wake of his attentions.

The way his mouth takes mine when he lets go of his inhibitions is nothing short of heaven. My own personal heaven.

His lips are soft and full, contrasting the rough skin of his hands and the hard muscle of his body, which he presses against me. Once that full contact is made—his delicious bare chest, the denim fabric of his jeans and the cold crudeness of the metal clasp on his buckle against my own supple and delicate body—each distinct point of contact is rapture. The sensations grip me in a tidal force.

“Make love to me, Ryder.” It’s all I can do to get the words out in a breathy moan.

His tongue plunges between my lips, discovering the taste of my mouth. He rubs it over my tongue and the roof of my mouth before bringing it over the sensitive flesh of my lips, wetting them for his service and then crushing me forcefully, body on body, mouth on mouth, lips and tongues transformed to demanding, fiery lashes—whipping us into frenzy.

The fingers of Ryder’s right hand work steadily to unclasp the buckle and his pants, keeping us apart, while the index finger and thumb of his left tortures one of my pink taut nipples.

I listen to the cadence of his breath as his jeans slip to his ankles. He curves his free hand over my throat, forcing the tilt of my head with his firm grip on the arc of my jawbone, while gentle fingertips stroke my pulse point.

With the access he’s gained from the position of my head, he lunges deeper into my mouth, using his wet tongue to swipe over the back of my throat. He stays just above the gag reflex for my comfort while mimicking what it would feel like to have his delicious cock in my mouth.

Exquisite tension like a hot ball of fire in the pit of my belly heats my most sensitive place, and I unthinkingly spread my legs to rub against him, needing the friction to relieve the pressure.

“Oh fuck,” Ryder groans in my mouth. The trembling of his tongue makes me almost come.

His left hand slides from my breast, down my belly—torturously slowly.

“I want my tongue right . . . here,” he purrs in a low tone as the tips of his deft fingers dance through my slit and over my nub of overly sensitive nerves while he simultaneously glides his beautiful tongue down the arch of the roof of my mouth as if it were between the folds of my very wet arousal.

My body begs him for more as I grind against his fingers. A needy moan rips through my throat as he continues to stroke and lick and pet—the tender skin of my neck, the darkness of my mouth, and my aching, tingling center.

Ryder’s fingers advance, and he sinks one inside of me. I cry out and my knees begin to buckle.

“You’re mine, Rachel.” The low vibration of the murmur from his own mouth to mine pulses shockwaves through my entire body.

He keeps my head pinned against the wall as his own dips down to my breast. He licks around the hardened peak then flicks his tongue over it. Each lash sends a jolt of electricity like a lightning strike directly to my clit—which he is expertly and excruciatingly avoiding—building me up like a weak house of cards, sure to quake and shatter under the power of his say so.

My back arches; I’m intoxicated, waiting for more.

He sucks my nipple into the heat of his mouth. “I’m going to devour you.”

Oh my God!
Where the hell did he learn to speak and purr in that deep, vibrating tone against each erogenous zone? It makes my body mind-blowingly reactive.

He spreads my legs and lifts me so my exposed, soaking wet arousal glides effortlessly over his steel nine pack abs. Without missing a beat, he grabs hold of the other pleading, neglected nipple with his lips while he grips my thighs in his firm strong hands and maneuvers my trembling, weak body in tight circles, rubbing my hypersensitive and oh so responsive clit against his rippling muscles.

My whole being hums with a spreading energy that moves out from my core, through my belly, shooting explosive tingles into my arms and legs, fingers and toes.

“I’m going to . . .”—I tense before the moment utterly engulfs me—“come.”

I surge and swell and rush into the tide of Ryder’s making. My physical form is overcome, and I fall apart in his arms.

“Oh, Jesus Christ! You’re gorgeous, Farrington.”

Ryder snakes a supporting arm under my ass as his other hand buries underneath my hair at the nape of my neck and he pulls me into a soul awakening kiss.

The words
I love you
flit through my mind, but I swallow them back, knowing they would ruin the moment with too much sentimentality. This unparalleled experience is organic, and I want it to stay that way. 

This may not be forever, I tell myself, but it is a lifetime contained in a moment.

Chapter Twelve

Ryder

Her body is my holy grail, my Ark of the Covenant—a holy, priceless treasure that I’ve searched for and waited for all of my life.

I lay her on the bed and spread my body over hers. I crush her delicious tits beneath the strength of my chest, and they feel incredible.

“Say my name again,” she says.

“Rachel.” I let the heat of my breath caress the inner curves of her ear.

Her body shivers with goosebumps.

I feel a wicked grin spread across my face. I’m going to live out my fantasies—the thoughts of what I would do to her if I ever had her under me—the sexual cravings that could only be relieved by stroking myself off so many times while wishing she was there.

With the flutter of my tongue, the press of my lips and the pinch of my teeth, I work the flesh underneath the bend of her neck, over her shoulder and down the length of her arm. I pay attention to each hitched breath and tiny whimper as I swirl my tongue in the crease of her elbow and linger on her inner wrist.

As I go, I push my steel against the door of her pillow softness.

She whines, “Please, do it.”

“Hmm . . . I fully intend on it.”

“Now, Ryder. I want you inside of me now.”

At the sound of my name coming from her pouty lips I nearly cave. “Baby, anticipation is half the experience,” I say and she groans in frustration.

I move my head to her opposite arm and sink a love bite into the side of her bicep and pull gently. At that, she grinds her pussy into my shaft.

I’m going to lose it.

Quickly I maneuver myself so that, as she presses herself against me, she’s rubbing herself on my leg instead of along my dick. For good measure I slide my quad through her drenched folds.

“Cheater,” she accuses.

“Don’t argue with the guy in charge,” I tell her and suck each of her fingers into my mouth.

“Oh my God!”

I angle to bring those same sensations down the flow of her ribs, licking and kissing each one before I go back up for another tour of her firm tits. While massaging one with the palm of my hand, I tantalize the other; rubbing it with the overnight shadow of stubble that’s grown over my jaw, I swipe my wet tongue across the intimate flesh.

I remember when we were driving towards Shrevesport and her tits were confined underneath the thin fabric of the Longhorns t-shirt she was wearing, braless. How badly I had wanted to expose them and do just what I’m doing now.

My own wildfire surges through my core and into my dick. I don’t know how much longer I can wait before I explode—I wonder if it’s possible to come with no friction whatsoever because, truthfully, I feel like that would be no fucking problem.

I French her to the dip of her belly button.

“Let’s see how wet you are.” I curl my tongue into her belly button as I stroke my fingers through her pussy. “Oh Christ, you’re so fucking wet.”

She arches her loveliness up and rubs against my hand. I tickle through the delicate lotus and imagine her blossoming against my tongue.

Bringing my fingers to my mouth I say, “Rachel, open your eyes.”

When she does I lick her sweet nectar from my skin. The action makes me moan. “You taste so fucking amazing.”

“Oh, Ryder.”

The taste immediately intoxicates me, and I can’t wait any longer—I plunge my mouth over her heavenly heat. Ravishing her with my wet tongue, I dive into her opening and relish each swipe.

“You don’t have to . . .” she stutters. “I already—”

I interrupt. “I’m going for multiples.”

She cries out in ecstasy as I lift and spread her legs wide and attack her sweet clit with my greedy mouth. Rachel wriggles and writhes. Holding her thighs firm so she can’t escape, I lap at her essence.

“Holy fucking hell, nothing tastes as incredible as you do.”

Her breathing accelerates, escaping her in a series of delectable moans that I fully intend on swallowing once I ram my cock hard inside of her. Her hips roil and cause an intense ache through my ever-hardening erection, causing it to throb wildly.

She grabs the sides of my head roughly—and I like it. She presses my face against her, and I make sure to massage her gently with my stubble.

Rachel whimpers my name in abandon and surrender, her voice laced with delirium and rapture, as she reaches her orgasm. Her exquisite flesh spasms against my tongue and tremors in my mouth as I bring her to her bliss.

Again.

I know the smile on my satisfied face is smug.

“Take me NOW!” she shouts.

I hop off the bed and grab my wallet for a condom.

“Holy shit! You’re huge,” she cries.

That never gets old.

“And what is that?” she squeaks.

Ripping the foil wrapper open, I kneel upright on the bed between her legs so she can have a full frontal view.

“You’re . . . pierced.”

“It’s a Prince Albert. Ever seen one?”

Her mouth is dropped open, and she’s staring, even while she still gyrates her hips and seeking me.

“No!” her eyes grow wider. “Will it hurt?”

“Oh no, baby, it’ll bring you great pleasure.”

“Yeah,” she responds shyly, averting her gaze. “You already accomplished that.”

“I’m so not done,” I growl, about to sheath my dick.

“Wait!” She’s louder and more forceful than she meant to be and she bites her bottom lip like an apology. “Can I . . . touch it?”

“Definitely.”

She leans forward and grazes the piercing tentatively with her fingertip.

“You won’t hurt me—you can even tug on it and it won’t hurt.”

“What if I put it in my mouth?” She still looks at my cock, which is glistening with pre-arousal.

“You’re trying to kill me, right?”

Without hesitation she pivots around until her perfect ass is pointing heavenward and her lovely tongue swirls around the tip of my cock.

“It’s so sexy. I like it,” she says decidedly.

“You’ll love the feel of it against your inner walls.”

Rachel peers up at me through hazy eyes. “You know, I’m still spasming inside?”

Those words officially commence the end of her exploration. I flip her over onto her back without ceremony and roll the condom on. She laughs with heady anticipation.

Pausing to take in her desire-drugged expression and the beautiful darkness of her eyes, I realize that, after this moment, nothing will ever be the same again.

I enter her partway, and she’s pure fucking perfection.

Her muscles tighten around my cock, and I can feel the aftershocks of the two powerful orgasms I gave her that sent her reeling.

Time to make her spiral out of control.

Pressing my hand to her thigh, I push her long, lean leg up until her knee is almost to her breast. Then with my other hand I guide my cock, stroking it up between her silken slit, letting her get used to the feel of the piercing.

Teasing the opening of her pussy, I begin to enter the nirvana that awaits.

She’s so incredibly fucking tight. I pace the penetration so as not to hurt her with my girth.

Holy Christ, the sensation is overwhelming.

I ease in slowly, watching the emotional connection become physical.

When I die, this is the way I want to go.

She purrs and moans between shuddering breaths. “Oh my God, yeah! You feel so amazing.”

At her declaration, I sink the rest of the way inside her. I fill her completely to bursting.

“Oh, Ryder!”

I’m incredibly deep as I thrust in and out of her gorgeous pussy!

I find her sweet spot and she freezes, letting my dick massage her. Rachel cries out as I shatter her inch by inch. “Oh my God, how the fuck can you be this amazing!?”

She grips the headboard as I piston into her faster and harder. The vision of her bare body beneath me, her tits bouncing to our rhythm, her soft, creamy legs spread out to receive me and my dick being swallowed by her pussy is pushing me to my endgame.

Her inner orgasms drive me into a frenzy.

I need to make this last. Quickly I try to think about something to desensitize, like baseball stats. But it doesn’t work. She brings her slender fingers up to my waist.

“Come closer, Ryder. I want to feel you cover me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I’m fucking thunderstruck as I lay over her. My senses heighten as my emotions overcome me.

I’m consumed with awe and reverence.

Balanced, with my weight supported by my elbows, I make love to her gently.

Make love. I’ve never even considered the idea of what that might be or feel like. I’ve only ever fucked. I’ve fucked long and hard and good; I’ve never made love before today.

I cradle her beautiful face and silken hair in my hands—how is she so powerful and so delicate all at the same time?

How does she have this effect over me?

Her eyes, her deep, rich, earthen eyes hold me, mesmerize me. Her lips engage mine and she breathes against them, “Ryder.”

Her fingers squeeze me everywhere at once—my arms, my back, my waist—skimming my ink, pressing seductively into muscle and branding me wherever they touch.

I realize that the word love isn’t strong enough to convey what I’m feeling. I don’t know what other people experience when they fall headlong into the force of another person, all I do know is that it’s never happened to me until her.

I fought the emotions when I had to leave her in Shreveport—putting them aside so I could think straight. I struggled for weeks to leave her alone once I knew she was safe, to not contact her, to not give in to the building pressure in my soul.

But she’s made me a believer, converting me from an emotionally dead, unfeeling, closed-off skeptic to a man willing to expose his wounds and hold his hands out for the healing I feel in her touch.

It’s pure.

Authentic.

None of my combat or spiritual training can stand against it—and truthfully, at this moment, I have no desire to fight it.

And although I loathe the conditions that brought us together, I’m eternally grateful she’s come into my world.

I’d die for her.

My dick explodes inside of her, pulsating, while her satin milks me delirious.

Overcome with the highest satisfaction and deepest gratification, I lovingly lay beside her, gather her in my arms and hold her.

No words need to be spoken—we both feel the power coursing between us.

Soon, I listen as her breath softens and becomes even as she falls asleep, emotionally and physically, there in my protection.

And protecting her is a mission I will not fail.

Rachel

When my eyes open, the soft late afternoon sun sets its glow over the walls. Ryder is hanging from his knees over a bar that spans the bathroom doorway. He’s shirtless and barefoot and only in a pair of blue denim jeans. His arms are folded over his chest in an X as he comes halfway into a hanging sit-up—the ripple and bend of his stomach and back muscles as they flex taut with the action mesmerizes me. He throws quick, rigid jabs, twisting at the waist. Sweat drips from the back of his neck, and his shorn hair glistens.