"Breakfast?" I raise an eyebrow as he hangs up. "When did we order breakfast?"
"I called while you were in the shower last night." He props himself up on his elbows, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Figured we'd need sustenance after, you know, everything."
"Ten minutes, huh?" I glance meaningfully at his still-prominent erection. "That's... problematic."
"I can be quick," he suggests, but I'm already sliding down his body, pressing kisses across his chest and stomach.
"Quick isn't what I had in mind."
I settle between his legs, my hair falling like a curtain around my face as I take him in my hand again.
"Mia, you don't have to—"
"I know. Iwantto." I look up at him through my lashes, loving the way his pupils dilate as he watches me. "Consider it... pressure relief. So you can enjoy our day of relaxation."
Before he can respond, I lower my head and take him into my mouth, just the tip at first, tasting the salt-sweet essence of him on my tongue. His hands immediately tangle in my hair, holding on like he needs an anchor.
"Fuck," he breathes, the muscles in his thighs tensing beneath my palms. "Best morning ever."
I take him deeper, swirling my tongue around the sensitive head before sliding down his shaft. He's too big to take completely—I tried last night and nearly choked—but I use my hand to stroke what doesn't fit, creating a rhythm that has him groaning.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Just like that, baby. So fucking perfect."
I hollow my cheeks, sucking harder as I bob my head, and his hips jerk involuntarily. The power I feel in this moment is intoxicating. This strong, gorgeous man completely at my mercy, coming undone because of me.
"Mia, I'm close," he warns, tugging gently at my hair. "Yes, that's it."
I increase my pace, using my free hand to cup his balls, rolling them gently between my fingers the way I discovered he likes last night.
His reaction is immediate and intense.
His whole body goes rigid, a strangled version of my name tearing from his throat as he pulses against my tongue. I swallow everything he gives me, continuing to stroke him through his release until he's gasping and pulling me up to kiss him.
"You're incredible," he murmurs against my lips, then freezes at the sound of knocking. "And that's breakfast."
I scramble for the complimentary robe hanging in the closet while Ryder yanks on his jeans, both of us laughing like teenagers almost caught by parents.
When the door closes behind the room service attendant, we survey the feast he's laid out on the table overlooking the town below.
The spread before us is nothing short of breakfast pornography. Thick slices of French toast soaked to perfection and glistening with rivers of maple syrup that pools decadently at the edges of the plate.
Next to it sits a mountain of scrambled eggs that look like golden clouds, impossibly fluffy and sprinkled with fresh chives. The bacon is arranged in a tempting fan, each strip curled and crispy-edged with that perfect balance of chew and crunch that I've only ever had at Summit Café when Clara was still in Iron Ridge.
I settle at the table and reach instantly for the rainbow of fresh berries and sliced tropical fruits that decorates the corners of our feast. Ryder's wafting the rich, intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee that's rising from two oversized mugs, the steam curling as he takes the first slurp with a groan.
It's the kind of breakfast spread that Instagram influencers would sacrifice their firstborn for.
And Ryder's just gone and ordered it all while I was in the shower, perfectly anticipating exactly what my body would need after a night of being thoroughly, gloriously claimed.
How did I get so damn lucky?
"I don't think I can move," I groan three hours later, face down on a padded table as skilled hands work the knots from my shoulders.
The resort spa is the epitome of luxury. It's like I've died and gone to spa heaven. The subtle scent of eucalyptus and lavender hangs in the air, wrapping around my senses like the world's most expensive perfume.
Soft instrumental music plays in the background, just audible over the gentle burble of the fountain in the corner of the resorts most exclusive area.
"That's the point of a massage," Ryder murmurs from the table beside mine, his voice muffled against the face rest. "Complete and total relaxation."
