Battered Not Broken (14 page)

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Authors: Ranae Rose

BOOK: Battered Not Broken
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With the barrier no longer between them, it felt even more stirring when he replaced his hands on her sides, the heat from his palms radiating through the thin fabric of her long-sleeved t-shirt. Slowly, he slid them upward, until his fingers met the lower swells of her breasts.

Her bra was the soft-cupped kind that supported with an underwire but didn’t add unnecessary bulk or padding. She’d worn it because it was pretty and comfortable, but in retrospect it had been an excellent choice for other reasons as well – namely, because it let her feel the pressure and heat of Ryan’s fingertips almost as easily as if there had been nothing between them.

Her nipples hardened instantly as he caressed the lower curve of each breast, his fingers drifting over their outlines in a half-moon shape. Back and forth, he took his time moving upward. By the time his fingertips slipped over her nipples, they were aching.

He rubbed them through her clothing, beginning a circular, teasing massage.

Between the magic he was working with his fingers and the way he’d entwined his tongue with hers, she was on the verge of sensory overload. At the same time, she wanted more. She was constantly aware of the solid presence of his torso between her knees. It sent little tremors through the insides of her thighs as she continued to grip him that way, hooking her ankles behind his hips.

When he removed his hands from her breasts, a throbbing began beneath her breastbone, protesting the end of something she’d only begun to enjoy. She sighed, gripping him more tightly with her knees, willing him not to stop.

Heedless, he slid his hands lower, until he settled his fingertips on the button above the fly of her jeans.

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Every nerve in her body seemed to spark when he popped the button through its hole, then pinched the zipper between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it down with a
zip
that caused every inch of her skin to pebble.

Slowly withdrawing his tongue from her mouth, he straightened to his full height, his fingers resting in the V between the parted teeth of her zipper.

When he met her gaze, all traces of the uncertainty she’d seen there a short while ago were gone. His eyes gleamed with a deliberate intent that seared her all the way down to her bones. In one impossibly quick motion, he hooked his thumb beneath the waistband of her jeans, took a step backward and pulled them over her hips. Inch by inch, he tugged them down, until they pooled at her ankles.

After removing her shoes without bothering to untie them, he let her jeans slide all the way off. A half-smile of satisfaction spread across his face as they hit the floor with the soft sound of crumpling denim.

He stepped back between her legs, his groin meeting the edge of the countertop as he smoothed his palms over the outside of her thighs, from knee to hip. “Your skin is so soft.” He leaned in close, his lips just barely brushing her jaw as he spoke.

Her lips tingled, anticipating contact.

But he bypassed her mouth as he sank down, lower and lower until he was kneeling in front of her, his chin level with the countertop.

Ally’s pussy shrank of its own accord, an instant tightening seizing it as she looked down, taking in the proximity of his mouth to her mound. It was covered by her panties, but those were thin – so thin that his breath was warming her tingling skin there every time he exhaled.

When he reached up and hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties, she almost forgot to breathe.

Raising her bottom up off the counter, she made it easier for him to pull the microfiber hot shorts down. As soon as they were past her hips, his breath hit the bare skin of her sex.

The effect was explosive, especially for such a fragile touch of air. Her arms and thighs trembled as she sank back down onto the countertop as gracefully as she could manage before her muscles could give out altogether.

Though she was seated again, she was hardly less exposed to his gaze. He was focusing on the tender area between her thighs with an intensity that made her want to squirm – half from anticipation and half from sudden nervousness.

As if he’d read her mind, he dropped his gaze, pulling back far enough that she could no longer feel his breath against her skin. When his jaw brushed her knee, he turned his head, pressing his lips to the same spot.

He showered her knee with light kisses, ones that were more breath and heat than lips or tongue. As he moved upward, they became more intense – harder pressed and longer lasting. By the time he’d kissed a trail mid-way up her thigh, he was applying his tongue as well as his lips, licking and then scraping lightly with his teeth. At the same time, he gripped a thigh in either hand, his hold firm.

She didn’t dare move. If she did, she might melt on the countertop. Her thighs were already trembling and her breath was coming faster and faster.

When his lips were just a couple scant inches from the juncture between her thighs, he paused and looked up.

His gaze locked with hers and the initial eye contact was like an electric shock. One that jolted her to her core and left her tingling with a lingering sense of exhilaration.

A gasp escaped her, half-hushed and half-ragged.

Closing his eyes, he tightened his grip on both her thighs and pressed his mouth flush against her pussy.

She shaved her entire bikini area out of personal preference. With hours spent at the gym nearly every day, training and sweating, lack of body hair made it easier to get and stay clean. Being bare down there helped her feel fresh, and smooth skin was at least as feminine as natural curls, if not more so. At least, that was what she’d always told herself. As Ryan devoured her with an open mouth, the only thing she could think about was how good it felt to have his tongue and lips against her bare skin with nothing between her and him.

He worked his tongue over and below her clitoris, running the tip of it between her lips, teasing her entrance. The glide of his tongue over her sensitive skin was wet, hot and explosively intimate. He took the time to get acquainted with her every fold and swell, as if he wouldn’t rest until he’d tasted every bit of her.

That idea had Ally gripping the edge of the countertop, her arms and fingers tense. If she’d been able to see her knuckles, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find that they were white. Instead, she squeezed her eyes tightly closed, shutting out the light pouring in through the kitchen window, the sight of the kitchen and living room – everything. All she wanted to focus on was Ryan – the way his hands felt on her thighs and his tongue felt on her clit, then inside her, and finally circling her clit again.

Sitting perched on the edge of the kitchen counter with his head between her legs was going to lead to the quickest orgasm of her life. It was already mounting inside her, winding her nerves tight and filling her entire middle with a delicious sense of impending release. She craved it, even feared she’d crack at the seams if it didn’t happen soon.

Maybe he sensed it, or only guessed. Either way, it was heaven when he devoted all his attention to her clit, working it with his tongue and letting his teeth scrape lightly over the top of the swollen bud. That combined with the way his stubble scraped the insides of her thighs was what sent her over the edge.

Her climax gripped her with breathtaking intensity, causing her limbs and fingers to tense to the point that it hurt to grip the counter so hard. Even her breath seemed to freeze inside her lungs. Only her hips still seemed to be mobile. They bucked involuntarily, causing her clit to grind against Ryan’s mouth in a way that set the air inside her lungs free. Her breath escaped her in a shuddering gasp, one that lasted for several long, mind-numbing moments. When it ended and she opened her eyes, it was like emerging from a dense fog.

His gaze cut through the haze her orgasm had left her in. Looking down, she met his eyes as he rocked back on his heels, still gripping her thighs. His lips were shining wet, and not just with his own saliva. When he extended the tip of his tongue and swiped it over the generous swell of his lower lip, her pussy seized up all over again, wrenching one last wave of pleasure out of her. It left her with hitching breath and a palpitating heart.

It couldn’t have been more welcome when he rose and wrapped his arms around her. His embrace supported her, giving her the freedom to melt like she’d wanted to the instant his tongue had touched her clit. She let herself lean into his chest, her flushed cheek against his pec.

His beating heart took her by surprise, pounding out a furious rhythm against her jaw. It had to be racing as quickly as hers – something she wouldn’t have predicted.

He tipped his head, nuzzling his mouth in close above her shoulder as he reached up with one hand to brush loose sections of her hair out of his way. When his lips made contact with her neck, she sighed.

He kissed and nibbled, letting his lips and teeth scrape her neck in an imitation of how he’d used them to give her such pleasure only moments ago.

The sensation set her nerves tingling in memory and reminded her of how she’d felt before he’d pushed her to climax – taut, aching and expectant. If the tenseness of his muscles and the hard rush of his breath was any indication, he felt the same way. Eager to feel his desire for herself, she slipped a hand below, past his washboard abs and over the V of muscle that slashed down to his groin.

He was even harder than he’d felt when they’d first kissed that morning and he’d pressed himself against her. Running her thumb down the length of his erection was like stroking a bar of heated steel. Satisfaction unfurled inside her – satisfaction that he was hard for her and that making love to her with his mouth had made him even harder.

When he took half a step backward, still holding her but allowing some space to separate their bodies, she took full advantage of it.

After one last caress, she reached above and unbuttoned his jeans. The noise of his zipper parting as she pulled it down was even more thrilling than the sound of him undoing hers had been. The teeth of his zipper rubbed the side of her palm as her fingertips brushed the cotton of his boxer briefs. The thin cover did little to hide the promising hardness beneath. Tucking her fingers beneath the waistband, she reached for him.

He moaned as her fingers met the smooth, rounded head of his cock. The sound was infectious, tantalizing – she wanted to hear it again, wanted to feel his breath rush unsteadily against the side of her neck like it just had.

Sliding her hand lower, she grasped his shaft, reveling in the sheer pleasure of feeling it so hard against her palm before she shoved her hand to the base, causing his underwear to slide down.

With the steely-blue cotton barely clinging to his hips, she was granted a partial view of his cock – the blunt tip and half the thick shaft. The sight of it combined with the feeling of him throbbing in her hand was quickly causing the satisfaction he’d given her to fade, giving life to the yearning she’d experienced before he’d brought her to release.

He flexed his hips, sending his shaft sliding deeper through her fist, until his balls met the edge of her palm.

Taking his cue, she slid her hand up and down his cock, letting the resulting friction warm her fingers as her internal body temperature seemed to rise, too.

For several moments, he rocked his hips in time with her stroking, his breath hot and heavy against her neck as he continued to thrill her with the press of his lips and scrape of his teeth.

Then he pulled away, straightening and laying a hand over the one she’d wrapped around his cock. “Not here,” he said, prying her fingers away one by one. “Don’t want our first time to be on the kitchen counter.”

She dropped her gaze down to where he was staring, his fingers tangled with hers. The flushed head of his cock was mere inches from her pussy. One thrust and he could bury it inside her.

“Maybe the second time,” he half growled as he lifted her from the counter. “Not the first.”

Her feet hit the cool tile as he lowered her, his breathing still rough – almost as rough as when he finished a match, from what she remembered.

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