One Hot Fall Term (Yardley College Chronicles Book1) (22 page)

He bucks against me. Hard. He cries out my name against my ear and lets out hot, wild moans like he’s being flayed. The chair rolls back and smacks against the wall, and his hips still rock against mine. His neck is damp with sweat and I suckle there, tasting salt, while he comes into me.

I love having him like this, out of control. I close my eyes. I gave him pleasure and my heart is aching with delight. I’m still horny but this—this is so sweet and good.

And after, when his hips stop moving, he kisses me long and lovingly. He cups my face and kisses me like every inch of me is a treat for him.

Then he goes soft inside me and he mutters, “Damn.” Holding the condom to his shaft, he pulls out of me. I keep my arms hooked around his neck so he can’t escape and kiss him again. “I’ll get my stuff packed quickly.”

He uses the bathroom, then when he’s done, I go in. My clit is tingling inside my jeans and panties. Every scrape of the seam is driving me crazy. I grab my makeup back and throw stuff in.

Then I stop, haul down my pants and fiercely rub my aching clit, thinking about how good Ryan felt inside me, and how warm he is, and how good he smells and how much I want to run my tongue all over him. Even naughty places like his butt, which is something I’ve heard about but definitely never done.

With Ryan, I want to do everything—

Oh! I bite my lip and make tiny mewling sounds and my body explodes under my fingers. Pleasure forks through me like a lightning bolt, and I sink to me knees on the matt.

I couldn’t have survived any longer without that. Somehow, I have to figure out how to make it happen with the man I love.

Chapter Twelve

As soon as we reach the Louis Mansion, we check in and go to our room. Since Ryan is cold and still wet, I make him take a hot shower. I let him do it by himself, as much as I’d love to join him. He needs dinner as soon as he can get it.

Ryan has brought along one of his leather motorcycle bags. I unpack it, putting his extra socks, jeans and briefs in a drawer. There’s something sensual and intimate about doing it. I hang up his heavy leather motorcycle jacket and pants on hooks by the door, hang up his extra shirt in the old-fashioned wardrobe, then I add my clothes.

The room takes my breath away. We have a small fireplace with a white marble mantelpiece. A fire burns cheerily. A small loveseat faces the fire, and there is an old-fashioned Queen Anne style chair. The floor is maple, covered with oriental-patterned rugs.

And we have the most enormous, fanciful bed. Four posts of elaborately carved white-painted maple hold a bed canopy of ivory silk. The quilt is white and looks as puffy and soft as a cloud.

I hear the shower shut off. Ryan steps out of the bathroom and warm steam billows out with him. A white towel is wrapped around his hips, and he’s using another to dry his hair. He’s so ripped and lean, it’s stunning. He was in amazing shape before he left for college, with a body that made me drool. Now, he’s even bigger with bulkier muscles. He barely had any fat before, but it seems to have totally disappeared now.

“Wow.”

He jerks his head up. “What is it?”

“You must have been working out a lot.”

“It’s the physical training. I’ve bulked up more than I thought.” He shrugs.

We have a huge bed. Should we talk first, though? Or go right to bed? No, wait. He said he drove straight today. “Ryan, have you had anything to eat today?”

“I grabbed a burger at about two this afternoon.”

I suddenly wonder if he only had one burger because he couldn’t afford to buy anything more. Coming to see me is an expense he probably can’t bear. And he only did it because I was in trouble, and I refused to be honest and tell him about it.

For his sake, but really, did I help him in any way?

“The restaurant downstairs is supposed to be amazingly good,” I say. “I had food at the residence cafeteria.” I make a face. “It was okay, but I could eat more and you should have dinner.”

A shadow crosses his face. Then he says, “I’d love to. But do I look too scruffy for a place like this?”

“You look so sexy I could throw you on the bed and do wicked things to you all night. But you’d starve, so I better not.”

He grins. “You’re sure I don’t look too rough?”

“You really don’t.” And I mean it. He’s so gorgeous he can get away with wearing anything.

He gets dressed then rubs his hair again with the towel. That’s all it takes to dry it. He holds out his arm and smiles at me, showing dimples. He’s offering his arm so I can slide my hand into the crook of it.

I smile at him, slip my hand there, where I can rest my fingers on his taut, bulging biceps.

This is heaven. And it’s going to be soooo hard to say goodbye and let him go.

***

For dinner, we go to the tavern in the hotel, which is less formal. It’s also quiet, since early November is off season—it’s after the beautiful colored leaves and before skiing and Christmas. There’s a fire blazing in the fireplace, and we get a cozy booth right beside it. I dressed up a little—in a short skirt, a sweater which looks as soft as cashmere, heels and black stockings. Wickedly, I let my right shoe drop off and play footsie with Ryan. Even wriggle my toes between his thighs and gently stroke his package, making his eyes go wide with surprise. At first I think I’ve shocked him too much—and worry. But he catches my foot when I go to move it, and strokes my toes playfully.

I let my foot play with his calf through his jeans. He can’t feel it because he’s wearing his motorcycle boots that go up to his calves. I like feeling the hard leather under my toes.

I want to get him naked. Want him naked. Now. Now. Now.

But that would be selfish. It’s so hard not to leap off my booth seat and jump on top of him. Everything about him excites me. The line of his jaw. The way his lips curve when he’s going to smile. The curl of his lashes, so obvious when he’s looking down at the menu. Every little gesture he makes steals my breath.

I study the menu and feel Ryan’s gaze on me. I look up and see he’s studying me. I guess he likes to look at me as much as I love staring at him. That makes my heart pound.

We have soft drinks and share steak and shrimp fajitas, which I love. Since I’ve had dinner that leaves a lot of food for Ryan. He orders a white chocolate cheesecake for dessert, and gives most of it to me, and I know he ordered it for me all along.

I quietly tell the waiter to add the cost of dinner to our room. I have a credit card—I got one when I turned eighteen. I have money saved up from working in part-time last year and full time all summer. My mom got me a job at the restaurant she works for, and I did okay on tips. Not a huge amount but enough to build some savings after I helped mom with the bills.

When we’re done eating, Ryan reaches over and strokes his fingers along my palm, making hot, electric quivers rush down my spine. “Do you want to stay or go upstairs now?” he asks.

“I want to go to bed. You’re not too tired for making love, are you? You must be exhausted from riding and—”

“Mia, I could stay up for a week straight to make love with you.”

That is so seriously tempting I want to wail in need and agony.

Hand in hand, we rush upstairs—up the sweeping staircase that runs from the beautiful Georgian-style lobby to our sumptuous bedroom. It is deserted and half way up, Ryan pulls me into a kiss. I leap up into his arms and wrap my legs around him, because he holds me up easily. I know my skirt has gone up too high, so I’m half watching for other guests as we kiss passionately.

Then he sets me down and my heart is thundering as we race to our bedroom. He locks the door while I kick off my heels and start pulling off my clothes. I get completely naked, just like I was when we went skinny dipping off the dock, when we had our first time together.

I want to consider that time with Ryan on the dock to be my very first time, because it was with him.

This is amazing: being naked in this gorgeous room with my gorgeous guy. I feel hugely adult right now. Giggling—not very adult—I pull down the thick comforter on the bed. There are oodles of pillows. This is the kind of bed I’ve always dreamed of but have never slept on. It is king size. We could have a party on this bed.

I dig the box of condoms out of my backpack and put it beside the bed. Naked, I sit on the bed, half-hidden by the counterpane and watch Ryan strip.

He straightens to take his shirt off, baring his chest. Oh, I’m melting.

My heart hammers as he undoes his fly. Skims his jeans down. Then he bends to take off his boots. His ass strains against his briefs and the white fabric cups his firmly muscled curves perfectly.

I have to bite my hand. My sexual desire is so intense I’m making squeaking noises.

Off come his leather boots. Then he kicks off his jeans and yanks down his briefs. I watch them slide down his bulging thighs, his taut calves, then they land on the floor.

His cock bobs, bouncing slightly side to side, as he comes to the bed. I kick off the blankets, lie down and he gets on top of me. Arched over me, he captures my lips, then nuzzles my neck. He moves down and rains kisses on my breasts.

“Ooh, suck my nipples. Please,” I whisper.

His lips part and he takes my left nipple into his wide open mouth. I run my hands over his peach-fuzz hair, caressing him.

He sucks.

This is so intense, so incredible. I moan, “Oh Ryan.” I love gazing down at his sexy, chiseled features while his cheeks suck in so he can pleasure my nipple.

He draws away and I giggle. He’s sucked a red hickey around my nipple. I squirm on the bed and reach down for his cock. I feel very proprietary toward his beautiful prick. I stroke it, feeling the warm weight against the palm of my hand.

Ryan gets a condom out, but I put it on him, rolling it carefully. I love handling him this way.

“I want to try something,” I whisper. I roll onto my tummy and spread my legs wide. Lying on my stomach, I crush my breasts against the mattress. To help relieve the pressure, I slip my hands in front of my belly, then down, which also lifts my naked ass to him. I’m about to explain that I want him to mount me from behind, but he guesses right away.

Ryan slides between my legs. I can’t see him this way, but I can savor the feel of his thighs between mine, and I can see his hands braced on each side of my shoulders. His cock bumps my butt. I wriggle back against him. Almost tempted to try that…

But I couldn’t ask him that. I can’t say anything that doesn’t sound natural for a nineteen-year-old with almost no experience. The safest way is to let him be in charge. Anyway, I want to do what he wants.

I lay with my cheek on the mattress to see him as best as I can. He’s focused on putting his cock into me, which makes me weak. His hand is around the hilt and he strokes the head against my pussy lips.

Oh. Oh. Oooooh.

I spread my legs more. His stroking makes my juices flow, so he can part my lips and slide inside. From behind, it feels a little different to take him inside. Incredibly good. He fills me, and his slightly rough pubic hair brushes my sensitive butt.

I thrust back to him, taking him as deep as I can. My eyes shut and I stay motionless, savoring the feeling of being filled to the brim.

He begins pumping, driving deep and slow and I lift my hips to meet every strong thrust. My fingers find my clit and I stroke myself. Sensation sizzles through me. Oh yes, this is going to be perfect.

I lift my hips higher, so I can really rub my clit, taking his thrusts. Pleasure builds. Not slowly, but with lightning speed. Rubbing as fast as I can, I feel the sudden tightening, and my clit starts throbbing and pulsing and then it happens.

I’m coming. It’s so good I moan loudly. “Oh God, Ryan,” I babble. “Oh yes. Yes.”

He hangs on to his orgasm and when mine dies away into this happy, giggly feeling of delight, he starts pumping again. I want more, just like he does.

I come again. And again. My cries get louder each time.

Until number four, when I sob with the fierce explosion that takes me. I’m just a puddle afterward. I’m soaking wet from coming and Ryan drives into me.

“Harder,” I beg. I want him to get off. I’ll never come now—

No, I can. He’s breathing hard. Not moaning, but making these tense, harsh sounds.

“I’m going to come, Mia.”

“Yes. Please,” I beg, putting some intense pressure on my clit. And I have one last, sobbing, whimpering orgasm-fest, when he jerks hard against me. His hips strike my ass, and I twist to see him and watch him come into me.

When he’s done, his eyes close and he hangs his head from sheer exhaustion. I giggle. Then he withdraws and falls to the bed at my side.

I stretch out on the bed, all hot and sweaty, then roll on my side to snuggle Ryan. He pulls the covers over us. Being naked under the sheets, all warm and cozy, feels so sexy and decadent. Ryan wraps his arm around me and draws me against him. I put my leg over his hips.

Next thing I know, we’re kissing. Little nibbles of our lips.

He stops, gives me a longing look. “I love you,” he says. “I love you so much. I want to look after you and keep you safe. I wanted to do that with Dad too, but I screwed that up.”

I’m shocked he would think that. “You didn’t screw anything up. You’ve tried and tried to help him. And what happened to me wasn’t your fault.”

He strokes my shoulder under the covers. The feel of his large hand tenderly caressing my skin is magical. “I wish I could have been there for you. It’s hard, waking up every morning, wishing you were with me, Mia. There’s some days I’m so tired and I’ve got so much to do that I don’t think about you as much. Maybe only a hundred times that day instead of a thousand.”

My eyes tear. “I don’t want you to be thinking about me and not studying.”

He laughs huskily. “I worked hard. For you. But I just can’t figure out how to study.”