Ryder massaged his hands over her low back, settling on her hips, and pressed the length of him to her backside. “You look sexy as hell.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re horny as hell.”
“Maybe, but you’re hot.”
“Let’s give it a try,” she said, and wiggled her butt against him.
He snorted a cute laugh, and adjusted, and slid just the tip in. “Okay so far?”
Already better, she nodded, laughed, and looked up at him. “So far so good, but make it quick. I feel ridiculous.”
Sliding in, his expression instantly lost and his jaw dropped. He nodded and said, “Four thrusts and I’m done. Promise.”
“Oh, you’re on.” Heat licked up her middle at the full length of him comfortably in, more, at his expression, and his optimism. “You have four thrusts.”
“It might be five,” he said, laughing at himself, desperate with a hoarse sigh as he shifted inside.
No pain, no pressure, she ignored the awkwardness of the position, and she tightened around him as he moved.
“That wasn’t a thrust. Just testing my workspace here,” he said, and adjusted inside her.
“It was pretty close to a thrust,” she teased, her voice strained from the sensations.
He steadied one hand on her hip, and reached around and set his fingertips on her wet clit. Still sensitized from his tongue, the touch alone, hardly even a rub, set her moaning already.
In slow motion, he slid out, rubbing her as he did, then thrust back in. “One,” he said breathlessly.
“I lost count,” she tried to say to continue the joke, but her voice was gone with the returning rise toward climax.
Another thrust. Thick and hard inside her, his fingers rubbed, distracted, and moved with the rhythm their hips normally would be indulging in right now.
Heat curled through her, liquid fire scorching into her veins as she anticipated the next thrust, savoring the sensation of his fingers on her.
Another, and his breath quickened.
Four, and she was so close. “Don’t stop,” she said between breaths, the distraction chipping down her response.
As he moved in for number five, he changed the pace, gentle but fast, his hips bumping into her backside, his hand slipped off her to hold her by the hips.
Another climax roared through her until she cried out, a voice she hardly even recognized, so eager and carefree and thrilled.
Ryder slowed, withdrew, and they lowered to the bed.
He faced her and kissed the back of her hand.
“That was more than five,” she teased, seeking his look and grinning.
His eyes fluttered open, a slow smile following, and the look, the sweet heat behind it, sent her arousal spiking nearly as high as it had been a moment ago. “I was done at four.”
Zoe shook her head and snorted a laugh. “We are so late, and now we’re sweaty.”
“No contractions yet?”
A bedraggled, sweaty and rumpled vision looked back at her as she peeked across at the mirror. Definitely going for the ponytail, now. “None,” she grumbled.
Darkness was fully upon them now, so she flicked on the bedside lamp. She slid down to the foot of the bed to climb out, swung her legs over, and stepped on underwear and the bra. At least she’d had the foresight to put the dress on the bassinet, and found it quickly.
At the opposite side of the bed, Ryder extended his arms to slide into his shirt, and whacked into the wall. He hissed and shook off the pain, shifted, and put the shirt on with more focus.
