Who did this happen to?

Me, that’s who.

Jen shooed the nursery workmen from her apartment and shut the door with a decisive push. She leaned against it and considered her options.

The shock of finding Ryan standing in her apartment was never going to go away. She glanced around and winced. Now he’d know she was a smoke and mirrors actor in her position at Lloyd. There was simply no way to explain her looking glass opposite world—not without sounding like a loon.

Playing with her sloppy hair, she quickly nixed the notion of attempting a costume and scenery change. Ryan was too savvy for such a daft maneuver.

For the length of time it took to stomp down the hallway, she considered the fact he was there for a reason and let out a series of harsh breaths. Jen rubbed her temple and groaned out loud when her hand fell away and she caught sight of her dirty nails.

Could this be any worse?

Stepping through the doors to the terrace, she looked around but couldn’t locate her unwanted guest.

Strutting like an awkward soldier in her unforgiving Wellies, Jen walked the length of the garden terrace and had turned the corner leading to the greenhouse when she finally found him. He was standing in the middle of it with the door open wide.

Ready to play the stern nanny, she was robbed of speech and sense when he turned around and saw her. His eyes were ablaze with emotions she couldn’t understand.

“You grow orchids,” he murmured.

“And violets,” she told him for no good reason.

She watched as he massaged the back of his neck while his head went back and forth as he took in her greenhouse wonderland.

Tucking a hanging lock of hair behind her ear, Jen bit her lip and followed his gaze. He stopped on a spotted orchid and murmured something she couldn’t hear.

His compelling blue eyes bored into hers. She felt warmth mixed with tension seep into her bones. This man upset her composure and made her wonder things that would only lead to trouble.

Before she realized what she was doing, Jen inched toward him, stopping when she was an arm’s length away. Her gaze focused on his mouth as he licked his lips.

One of them moved, and the next thing she knew, he buried his hands in her hair and held her head. When she placed her palms on his chest, her intention had been to push back. But then she felt the thump of his heart and heard his passionate grunt. Nothing could save her after that.

“The real Jenna Carlton,” he murmured. “We meet at last.”

First, he kissed her with his eyes ... until she shook and some sort of unholy madness consumed her. When his mouth lowered and his strong, enticing lips brushed hers, she drew in a shaky breath.

Mesmerized by his slow, thoughtful kiss, Jen surrendered to the intensifying feelings. He was like a magnet charged with desire, drawing a response from her body and emotions that shocked and excited at the same time.

Tingling when he murmured her name and she felt it on her lips, Jen melted into his embrace as strong arms banded around her body and pressed them together. A delightful pulse of want shuddered through her.

She’d been kissed plenty of times but never like this. What made Ryan different? Was it him? Or her? Or was it what the two of them generated when they came together?

He exuded a presence, a power that Jen was undeniably attracted to. His touch opened a view into the man, which until now had been kept from view. He wasn’t a boy-man, a Peter Pan who never grew up. The tacky shirts and old soul meets hipster vibe was window dressing.

A lot like her Armani suits and hellaciously expensive shoes.

The man commanding her mouth was a creature of a different sort. Confident, manly, and persuasive, Jen welcomed the sensation of drowning in his masculinity with a deep shudder.

Clinging to his shoulders, she rubbed her body on him and deepened the kiss until it was all tongue and out of control.

When his mouth left hers, they gasped for breath, and then he groaned before falling onto her neck to maul her exposed skin until she clung to her sanity on the strength of a single, fraying thread.

He bit her earlobe. She quivered, and a soft whimper rushed from her mouth.

Jen’s senses went haywire, and her ability to stand vanished when she felt his hot breath against her ear, whispering, “Now I understand what still waters run deep means.”

His beastly growl sealed her fate. Her legs wobbled, and she fought for oxygen. He bit her neck so hard, she cried out and gave up all control. When she crumpled, he caught her and swept Jen into his arms. He kissed her madly, deeply, and passionately. And if he’d walked off the ledge of the building and plunged them both straight to hell in the process, she wouldn’t have noticed. Or cared.

Nothing had ever felt like this.

Nothing.

Ever.

Her pulse quickened. His tongue seduced hers and sent shards of ecstasy throughout her body. Hunger and need coalesced inside Jen. It didn’t matter that a sudden insanity consumed them. Not when she felt so at home in his arms.

She kept her arms around his neck as she felt him lowering her body. Their lips separated. A flicker in his deep blue eyes became bold and possessive. She didn’t resist or turn away.

He lowered next to her, and Jen realized they were on the wide chaise lounger that she used for sunbathing. Constructed like a futon, it could be lowered flat, which was how she usually kept it.

An ache started inside her. Unable to stop herself, she raised a thigh and placed it on his hip as he leaned on one arm and did things to her neck and shoulders that made Jen tremble.

They made out like horny teenagers, yet he took his time with everything he did. Kissing. Touching. Licking. Stroking. And they still had all their clothes on.

All but mindlessly humping his leg, she wasn’t amused when he chuckled and drew back.

“Easy, flower girl. What’s the rush?”

Good question. No easy answer. How was she supposed to tell him that orgasms and a man didn’t necessarily go together? Or that when a tingle started, it was best to ride that shit to the end before the fickle response disappeared.

She was breathing hard, and he was looking down at her like she was a rare treasure.

He stroked her face and smiled into her eyes. “Ah.” He chuckled. “I see you’ve never been made love to by a real man.”

She looked away when a heated rush of embarrassment spilled onto her face. He had no idea!

“I’ve always felt that going the distance is more satisfying than a race. Don’t you agree?”

She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Well,” he growled as a playful smile tugged at his lips. “It will be my great pleasure to demonstrate how it’s done.”

And what exactly was she supposed to say? ‘Promises, promises,’ came to mind except that she didn’t doubt he had what it took to keep his word.

“First,” he drawled before dropping a kiss on her nose, “the sexy boots have to go. But feel free to wear them anytime you want to be ravished ’cause, lady, they are a definite turn-on.”

He sat up and shifted her legs into a more dignified sprawl before drawing each boot off as though her footwear was made of crystal.

And that was the moment she remembered she was a filthy, grimy mess.

“Oh, no!” she cried. “I’m all sweaty, and I smell awful.”

“Hold on,” Ryan drawled. His sexy chuckle gave her goose bumps. “Here I am doing the whole charming prince thing and you’re worried about B.O.?”

Did he just say Prince Charming? Was he reading her thoughts, or were they just on the same wavelength?

He could not have shocked or turned her on any more than when he stuck his face into her crotch and inhaled.

“If you’re interested in my opinion”—he smirked—“you smell delicious as fuck.”

The giggle shot out of her throat so fast she nearly got whiplash. His responding expression was so hot it scorched her skin.

Propping herself up onto her forearms, she watched in helpless fascination while his fingers worked the buttons on his shirt. He had nice hands. They were big and sturdy—more familiar with a camping hatchet than a fancy pen. The imagery made her insides tighten. Ryan Lloyd was a man, not a boy pretending.

When he removed the shirt, she understood what erotic vapor lock was all about. He was rocking the sort of muscled abs and well-defined chest that Hollywood action stars dreamed about. She wanted to taste his skin and then rub all over his naked body.

He pushed his hair away from his face and stared down into Jen’s eyes. He removed a leather cord around his neck with a quartz crystal. She studied the scruff on his face and wondered what it would feel like against the soft skin of her breasts.

Towering over her, she felt his raking gaze. He stared at her neck for a long moment and then lower, at her heaving chest.

“Ohio State.” He smiled appreciatively. “Beautiful countryside in Ohio. What was your major?”

“Economics and Finance.”

He chuckled. “How did you survive?”

Jen smiled. “Tequila and nachos.”

“Grrr,” he playfully growled. “Aphrodisiac city.”

Smiling at his easy responses, she squeaked and flopped back like a ragdoll when he ripped her flimsy tank t-shirt off with no problem.

Rearing back with his hands over his mouth, he gasped dramatically, then pointed at her chest.

“What?” She looked down, trying to figure out what got such a reaction.

“You DO have boobs!”

Oh, hell yeah, she had boobs. Nice ones too, if Cosmo was the judge. But men were far too easily distracted, so boobs were not on her professional playlist. Her power wardrobe, even the sexiest and most feminine suits, kept the girls on lockdown.

Until he broke out a fall down funny comic portrayal of a horny ape—all because of her c-cups—Jen had no idea that humor and playing around had any place whatsoever in the bedroom.

Or the terrace lounge chair.

She might actually like this guy more than a little. Which had to explain why she was getting naked on her terrace with him as if they had sex together—outside—all the damn time.

“I’ve never had sex out here before,” she told him with a smirk.

He looked at her strangely for a second and then came back with a reply that changed everything.

“And your record will remain intact, flower girl.”

She tilted her head and looked at him with a pensive frown. “Then what are we doing? Is this just …” She shrugged.

A sensation of melting into the cushion beneath her seized Jen when he shifted to loom over her with his hands planted on either side of her head.

He smelled like something her mind grappled to interpret. His blue eyes bored into her, and his dirty blond hair with the golden streaks framed his face.

“I’m not interested in having sex with you, Jenna Carlton. To be perfectly blunt,” he rasped, “if that’s what I was about, I could have sex with just about anyone.”

Whispering, “Oh,” she swallowed and melted some more.

“We’re going to make love, and if that’s a foreign concept to you, relax. I’ll show you how.”

She locked onto his eyes and held her breath. Whaaat?

He stroked the side of her face. The gentleness of his touch felt reverent.

“We don’t rush, and it’s okay to laugh.”

His sly, teasing smirk melted her some more and made a smile quiver on her lips.

“And,” he said as he leaned close to her ear. Close enough that she shivered as his hot breath hit her neck. “You’re not to worry. I’ll take care of you.” He licked her ear. “How many times would you like to come?”

Surely, he was joking, so she squirmed at the uncomfortable question and felt a blush ignite on her neck and spread upward. There just wasn’t any way to say she’d never equated a roll in the hay with an orgasm. Sad but true—she’d never been with anyone who could pull off the elusive screaming O.

Trying for worldly nonchalance, she thought she gave off just the right amount of sexual bravado when she answered. “One would be a treat, thanks.”

Ryan chuckled. The sexy growl left her ready to self-combust.

Tsk’ing, he smiled and said, “Does a rose only have but one bloom?” The arched brow and mocking smirk gave him a roguish air that she found very appealing.

“Your pleasure should always come first.”

She didn’t know how to react to such a bold statement.

“Ah, I see you doubt me still. Jen,” he drawled huskily, “something bigger than our sniping at each other is going on here. I know you feel it too. Do you need me to tell you I’m sure I’m falling for you? Because it’s true, I am. Or maybe I always have been. I don’t know.”

Afraid to ask but unable to zip her mouth, she risked the possible humiliation and spoke.

“Did I have anything to do with you staying put? Here?”

He didn’t hesitate and answered forcefully. “Yes. I came back as a test run to mollify my mom and shut John up. But I realized that day in John’s office when he forced you to lunch babysit me that I had a reason to stay.”

She offered her own admission. “I wanted to smack Connie and Grace when they started with their crazy marrying you off scheme. At first, I tried to pretend my reaction was just a case of feminist outrage.” She bit her lip and looked away. “When those two started rhapsodizing about grandchildren, I think something inside me snapped.”

He lifted her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She chuckled. “Wanting to start shit with your mom?”

“You know why,” he replied.

Several minutes ticked by. He settled comfortably on his side as she lay still and silently enjoyed his presence. It was hard to relax, but when she finally allowed what remained of her tension to melt away, she experienced an erotic shift that pulsed to life deep inside her.

He touched her hair and combed his fingers through the curls. Lifting a ringlet to his face, he trailed the soft lock up and down his neck.

“Have you ever let your hair down at work?”

The double meaning of his question had just one answer.

“No.”

“I’m the only one to see you like this?” he murmured. Jen heard a slight tinge that sounded like awe in his voice.

“You snuck in. Got around all my careful defenses.”

His smile was brighter than the sun that was moving lower and lower in the sky.

“Then on that perfectly expressed note, let’s get naked. Taking our time is one thing, but let’s make the anticipation more interesting.”

Struggling to sit up, he joined her and had one leg on the floor when she started to babble.

“Well, okay, I guess. Is there a protocol for this? Do we stand? Am I on my own? Is this a strip tease or clothes dumped in a hurried pile?”

He grabbed her face with his hands and laughed before kissing her senseless.

Semi-boneless, she was like a ragdoll when he turned her this way and that, muttering the whole time.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Looking for your switch.”

“My what?”

“Your switch,” he replied with zero irony or snark. “The on-off for your brain. We need to shut that shit down right away.”

The fact that he read her so perfectly and with such ease filled Jen with joy.

“Good luck with that.” It was the most honest answer she had.

“Okay, challenge accepted. Now. Tell me quick. No overthinking. How do you want to do this? Undress each other or go solo? I’m good either way.”

She knew without any critical oversight whatsoever that she lacked the bluster to take charge of removing his jeans. Not this time. Maybe she could once she knew what lurked behind the denim, but until then, she was a devout coward.

Swinging her legs off the lounger, she stood on one side and gestured for him to stand on the other.

With her fingers on the snap of her cutoffs, she teased, “On the count of three.”

“Wait!” he cut in. “I have questions.”

He was kidding, right? “What kind of questions?”

“Well, for starters. Tell me now if this is a commando situation because if it is, I need to be prepared.”

“What?”

He was having a good laugh at her expense. That much was obvious by his smirking delight in her confusion.

“Are there panties involved, or when you shimmy those bad boys off, am I getting the full reveal? A guy needs to know these things.”

Making a skeptical face, she grunted, “Pfft. You’re more likely to be commando than I am.”

Another face-splitting grin appeared on his face. “Now that we’ve established underwear is involved, here’s my second question. Pants and undies in one swoop or one garment at a time?”

Jen stopped to consider what she was wearing and decided one at a time was good. They weren’t the sexiest things of all time, but the silky lavender bikini panties with the side bows left no doubt about her femininity.

With a wicked smile, she drawled, “You’d be great fun to play strip poker with.”

“Thanks for the date idea!”

Her smirk was playful. “One peel away at a time. There. Anything else?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he answered. “Go ahead with your countdown, darlin’.”

She was about to start the count when he interrupted again, and she huffed out a deep breath of exasperation.

“Wait! Sorry,” he growled. “But could you turn around when the shorts come off? Now that I’m reassured you do in fact have tits, a little preview of the ass would go a long way.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Lloyd? Maybe some jumping jacks when the bra comes off? How about some toe touches?”

His eyes lit up, and he laughed. “You’re the best!”

“Those weren’t offers, you asshole,” she snapped.

“Okay, okay,” he answered with a long-suffering eye roll. “We’ll leave the strip gymnastics for a future negotiation. But I’m dead serious about you turning around.” He twirled his finger and cocked his head. “Come on now, darlin’. Be a good girl and show me the ass.”

Her first impulse was to rip his arrogant, sexist pig head off. Then she saw the glimmer in his eyes, and for the first time in her life, she played along.

In the best drawl she could manage on short notice, Jen flipped the hair back over her shoulders and simpered like a true Southern belle. “Why, it’d be my absolute pleasure, sir,” she cooed. He expressed the appropriate amount of surprise when she turned like a runway model, unsnapped her cutoffs, and pushed them down her hips with a great deal of wiggling shimmies thrown in for effect.

Making it up as she went along, Jen bent completely over and slowly stepped out of the tiny shorts. She had no idea what she looked like while doing this, but Ryan’s growling grunt and murmured, “Mmm,” made her instantly wet.

Shockingly wet.

When she turned around to face him wearing just a bra and panties, she found him staring at her body with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

By habit, she ran her fingers along the elastic of her panties to adjust the brief silken scrap and drew his attention.

“Is that a tattoo?” He gasped.

She startled ever so slightly. A tattoo? She often forgot all about the hieroglyphics inked on her side between her waist and bra line.

“No judgments.” She laughed. “I got it during senior week in high school.”

He looked closer. “What does it mean?”

“It’s Elvish script and says ‘Not all who wander are lost.’”

“Tolkien,” he muttered. The look on his face bordered on awe. “Where the fuck have you been hiding?”

She blushed, unsure of his meaning.

The sound of a released snap and zipper lowering caught her gaze. She watched him shove his jeans to the flagstone tiles and kick them away. Then he pulled on the elastic of his briefs and showed her his left hip where she saw the same words inked in English.

* * *

Was this really happening, or was he dreaming?

Ryan couldn’t be sure.

Sexual desire, maybe a bit of personal attraction, and more often than not, some celibacy-fueled lust were his entire emotional repertoire in these situations. But he knew Jen was different—the exception to the exception—the minute he opened the door of the greenhouse and the scent of her orchids filled his senses.

His father had also been a full-fledged lover of the delicate bloom with a greenhouse full of plants. To this day, his mother kept an orchid on the front table in their family home. Though he was long gone, Greg Lloyd was never forgotten and rarely far from any of their thoughts.

Ryan felt the zing of connection to Jen by way of his dad when he saw those flowers. It was as if he was weighing in on this woman. This female whose persnickety mystique had been poking him in the side for ages like a sharp pin.

As if that wasn’t enough to scramble his brain, the Tolkien tattoo sealed the deal. He’d fallen in love with the famous author from an early age after being forced to read The Hobbit in school. Right now, a pathetically dog-eared and ratty copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy was in his backpack. The story had been keeping him company for decades.

He’d had the wander quote tattooed on his hip right after he graduated from college and made the decision to forego following his father and John into corporate conformity. It was only by sheer dumb luck and a lot of perseverance that he’d fashioned his love of adventure and desire to experience everything this planet had to offer into something he could contribute to Lloyd Global.

Finding the same words inked on this sensational woman—and in Elvish, no less—felt like destiny.

She peered at his tattoo, holding her hair away with her hands. The astonishment on her face when she looked up filled him with elation. He didn’t doubt they were having similar thoughts.

He made a joke. Had to. The opportunity was just too perfect.

“Do you suppose if the tats link up that we’ll morph into some massive transformer-like sex machine ’cause, no joke, that’d be really cool.”

“Sounds good.” She snicker-laughed. “But I get the controls.”

“Give me one good reason I should …”

Cutting him off midsentence, she gave him a reminder of how far she was from being a pushover. “Because I used the original Elvish. So there,” she drawled while her nose wrinkled, and she stuck out her tongue.

That this conversation was happening with them in their underwear and separated by the wide chaise lounger was all kinds of ridiculous. But he’d take it as it was because he could already tell that nothing about a relationship with Jen would be boring or even slightly normal.

He gave a courtly bow, a leftover from his middle school days when he played Lysander in A Midsummer’s Night Dream.

“Good argument.” He chuckled. “So if you’re in the driver’s seat, what’s next?”

“Wait,” she told him with a mocking grin. “We haven’t linked up yet. I will cede control until then, oh, roguish one.”

“You do realize that rogue thing is a turn-on, right?”

She released a soft laugh. “I have plenty more where that came from. Scoundrel. Villain. Rascal. Knave. Bad boy. Renegade. Should I go on?”

He sensed the subtext in her playful remarks. She really wasn’t all that interested in being the dominant one.

Thanking his lucky stars for the road map heads-up, he shifted gears.

Crooking his finger, he called her to him. The witch put a hand on her hip and jutted it out slightly. “I’m still dressed.” She said the words like a challenge.

“And I’m going to take care of that now, so stop being ornery and walk that glorious ass over here.”

He expected her to come around the lounger, but that just showed what a moron he was. With no lack of grace, she smirked at him and stepped up on the lounger. Two steps and she jumped off the other side and landed in front of him.

“You summoned?”

Ryan grinned at her cheekiness. “In the future, I won’t ask, but since we’ve never done this before, Imma’ be a gentleman and give you a choice.”

“A choice?” She sounded intrigued.

“Yeah. Do you like this bra? Is it a favorite or anything because if it’s not, consider the damn thing torn to shreds.”

“Seriously?”

He rubbed his palms together and made a leering face. “Just say the words and the underwear is history.”

“Have at it,” she answered with a laugh. Extending her arms, she offered up her body.

Three tugs and the bra was history. Her tits bounced beautifully when he freed them. His heart thudded, and the tightness in his groin intensified when her nipples stood at attention. Giving the glorious mounds the attention they deserved, he whistled softly and bit down on his bottom lip with a husky grunt.

He looked her over and planned his seduction. His mouth watered, thinking about how her tight little buds would taste on his tongue.

With a reverence that came naturally, he dropped to one knee, kissed her belly, and removed the pretty lavender panties. She had a cute thatch of brown and gold curls he longed to touch.

A stunningly fierce possessiveness thundered inside him. He placed a soft butterfly kiss on the pale skin at the top of her curls and breathed in her scent.

From his place at her feet, he looked up into her smoldering gaze, ran his fingers up the inside of her bare legs, and barely grazed the sexy mound begging for his touch.

She was already wet. He reveled in the knowledge that her lush, curvy body prepared for his possession. He longed to sink his throbbing cock inside her and discover what gave her pleasure—but there was much to do before then.

He said her pleasure came first, and he meant it. Might as well start now.

“Put your foot on the lounger,” he growled. With a forceful grip on her hips, he helped her get in position, but once he had her where he wanted, Ryan shuddered with anticipation when her sweet female scent invaded his senses.

At first, he let his eyes drink her in. The pretty curls were damp between her legs, and he saw the glistening evidence of her arousal as it leaked from her body. Knowing her pussy wept with need made his cock swell further.

Parting her outer lips, he murmured appreciatively when he found her slightly swollen and flushed pink with desire.

She moaned when he kissed her clitoris once, twice, three times and then licked the sweet little nub. He put his hands on her ass and canted her body slightly to get the perfect angle. He wanted to be sure he enjoyed every drop.

Starting with slow licks punctuated by his pleasure groans, Ryan explored her body. Jesus. She tasted like heaven. Her arousal was thick and silky, easy to lap with his tongue, and when he felt his cock surge with approval, he got serious.

She put one hand on his head. Then two. His long hair made it easy for her to find something to clutch. He liked the way her nails scraped his scalp and the demands she made with the pressure of her touch.

He was truly bummed when an approaching climax made her tremble and moan. Licking her pussy was his new favorite thing, and he didn’t want to stop, but it was clear she was going to come and come hard, so he ate her with a mixture of precision and gusto until her hands smashed his face against her, and she gyrated with abandon.

Hungry desire and the thrill of arousal coursed through him. Her legs began to shake. He sucked, licked, and tantalized her sensitive flesh until she broke. Her husky cry of completion was sexy as fuck.

When the tremors began to recede, she continued to shake but as standing was no longer an option, she folded into a slump on the lounger.

He could have stopped but why bother when she was a feast beyond compare. Ryan gently laid her out, spread her thighs, and put his fingers to good use. She moaned and reached for him, but he pushed her hands away and concentrated on doubling her pleasure.

“Ryan,” she croaked.

“Shh, baby, shh. I’m not finished. Open for me, darlin’.”

Crouching between her open thighs, he fondled her beautiful breasts and slowly fingered her. She arched, whimpered, trembled, and shook.

Her head moved side to side, but she kept her eyes squeezed closed. She moaned, “No,” but her body said yes. It was clear she’d never been pleasured properly and definitely not more than once.

His mouth wreaked suckling havoc on her clit while he stroked her deeply with two fingers. When he massaged a particular spot, she flooded with desire and spread her thighs wider. It didn’t take but a minute after that for her to come again with a sexy gush that he tried to devour every last drop of.

He stopped sucking and sat back to look at her. Her thighs spread loosely open and her swollen pussy looked absolutely gorgeous with his fingers still buried. The wet sound her body made when he aggressively pumped his fingers turned him on in a very big way.

Ryan removed his briefs and lay on top of her. The way her body softened and welcomed his weight did crazy things to his ability to stay in control. His thick, full cock lay between them on her stomach. He gently thrusted against her, enjoying the spine-tingling arousal. He had no doubt in his mind that making love to her was his destiny.

Caressing her everywhere he could, he committed her body to memory, remembering what made her quiver or moan. She liked when he took fierce pleasure in her neck and cried out lustfully every time his teeth marked her flesh.

Worshipping her breasts came easy. They were full, heavy, and topped with luscious pink nipples that teased his tongue and made him come very close to losing it. Her hands explored him rather timidly until he took the fingers of one hand and used them to grip his cock.

After a quick demonstration of touches and strokes that turned him on, she took it from there and quickly drove him out of his mind.

Her body squirmed under his. She treated him to a series of pulsing squeezes that made his flesh harden even more.

Kissing her deeply, wildly, and passionately, he left an invisible mark that declared her to be his, and then he made exquisite love to Jenna Carlton.

“Knees up, baby,” he grunted as he rose on his arms and licked a nipple before straightening.

She made some soft, keening whimpers and said his name over and over.

He reached between them and watched her face while rubbing the head of his cock in her delicious wetness. She undulated and tried to capture his hardness with her pussy. Ryan smiled and growled at the same time.

Feeding the tip into her hot, dripping wet passage, he filled with emotion when she grabbed his arms, tilted her pussy, and watched him through glazed eyes as he penetrated her tightness.

The macho pig that Ryan knew lived in his soul took more than a little satisfaction from the assumption that it had been a long time since she’d had a man between her legs. That thought might have been what made him plunge balls deep with a mighty grunt. She arched and groaned as her nails dug into his arms. He gave her a minute to adjust and then went a little berserk.

Flexing his hips, he spread his thighs wider and changed his angle before unleashing a lusty pounding that made her gush with pleasure.

Her unexpected orgasm caught them both by surprise. He marveled at the rigorous spasms that ripped her apart and left his beautiful, sexy lover quivering and with his name on her lips.

Ryan gathered her close and began a slow, steady stroke that turned him inside out. This was what making love was about. The incredibly soft, wet tissue massaging his dick pulsed with her heartbeat. He pulled out and thrust home in an unhurried pace.

She kissed his chin, jaw, and neck. Her tongue on his skin drove Ryan a little crazy. When she bit him and snarled, he knew the end was near.

He liked lying on her. She felt perfect under his body. He twined his fingers with hers and raised their hands above her head, pressing them into the cushion beneath them with each stroke. Her legs wrapped securely around his waist and met him stroke for stroke.

“Hold tight, baby. Hold real tight.”

She squeezed around him like a boa constrictor and rose to meet his cock each time he sank deep.

He studied her face and realized she was past the point of control. Her desperate grunts fueled his fire. She thought one orgasm was enough? Shit. She’d come three times and was locked and loaded for a fourth. A fourth he was more than happy to give.

Sinking deep, he held her hands and rotated his hips. “Take what you need, darlin’. Move those hips for me, baby. That’s right,” he praised when she ground against him, and her muscles tightened around his cock in a vise grip.

He pulled out and slammed home half a dozen times. Her whimpers shook him, and then she screamed as she came. He rode her spasms until his cock said enough. Letting go of her hands, Ryan gathered her against him and thrust like a madman until his cock exploded. Jen cried out and spurred him on, so he gave her everything he had.

The throbbing pulse as he emptied into her wiped his brain of all thought. He might have hollered something about her being his love, but he wasn’t sure if he thought the words or said them.

They were both shaking uncontrollably as the pulsing madness subsided. He could feel her fluids on his balls and covering his abdomen. There had to be a hellacious mess on the lounger made all the sloppier by the pleasurable fact that his lover gushed like a fountain.

He didn’t want to ever leave the warmth and pleasure of her body, but they were outside, the sun had gone down, and staying joined on the lounger just wasn’t practical.

He kissed her and said things his heart needed to say. He’d never experienced so strong a connection before.

She was still shaking and refused to release him. A sense of loss and sadness filled him unexpectedly when his softening cock slid from her body.

And then reality slammed into him with a vengeance. He’d just committed the worst sin possible with someone he was falling in love with.

How the fuck had he been so stupid?