“Like what you see, little vampire?” Ryker raised a knowing brow, that smirk still dancing on his handsome lips.
“Very much so,” she replied honestly.
She wasn’t sure she could’ve lied now, even if she wanted to.
He flattened his hand on her stomach, his thumb achingly close to her clit.
His lips brushed hers, the kiss maddeningly brief. “Me, too.”
She didn’t have time to mourn the lack of Ryker’s mouth on hers because he kneeled at the edge of the bed and tugged on her top.
He asked, “Do you like this sweater?”
Such an odd question to ask at a moment like this. She frowned. “I mean, as much as I like most of my clothes.”
It was neither here nor there. She wasn’t all that involved in fashion. Not like Sarai had been.
“Good to know.” A twinkle entered his eyes. “Can I take it off?”
“Please.” She lifted her arms above her head, but he chuckled darkly.
Taking hold of the neckline with both hands, he shifted his weight so his legs straddled her on either side. He leaned over and kissed her, his firmness resting in the apex of her still-clothed thighs. She gasped as he pressed against her.
A low chuckle rumbled against her mouth, and a loudripfilled the room. Startled, she made a sound of protest, but he swallowed the noise with his mouth. He slid the scraps of her sweater out from beneath her and tossed them aside. He pulled off her leggings and panties, and his shorts quickly followed.
She didn’t have time to admire his naked moonlit figure before he returned to his position, his head dipping as he kissed her jaw. She gasped, pressing herself closer to him.
More. She needed more.
“I missed you.” Ryker kissed her neck. “Every night, I wanted you.” A trail of searing kisses went across her collarbone. “You haunted my dreams and my nightmares.” Kiss, kiss, kiss. “I’ve never stopped needing you.”
He covered her in kisses, tasting her as though he was starving and had never eaten in his life. Every time he lifted his lips from her flesh, he told her how much he wanted her. Needed her. Cared for her.
How he would take care of her from now until the end of their days. Again and again and again, he devoured her with kisses until she was a writhing mess beneath him.
When Brynleigh felt like she would die from the fire inside her, Ryker cupped her breasts. He rolled her nipples beneath her thumbs, his gaze dark as it met hers.
“You’re mine,” he told her before sucking a nipple into his mouth.
She arched her back, a strangled cry rising as he played with her other breast.
Oh gods.
When she didn’t reply, he released her nipple and rested his chin on her chest. His eyes flashed with that same possessiveness she’d glimpsed on their wedding day. “Whose are you?”
“Yours,” she gasped.
“Good girl.” He rewarded her by taking her other nipple in his mouth.
She moaned as he licked and sucked as though his life depended on it. On and on and on he went, tasting her.
Every gasp, every moan, every movement seemed to spur him on. He didn’t stop, though. Not until she was a desperate puddle beneath him, begging for more.
Ryker was playing with her. The audacity. She could sense his playfulness in every kiss, every nip, every time he ground his hips against hers, his cock just outside of where she desperately needed it.
He wasn’t the only one capable of playing games. There was no doubt he wanted her—but would he let her take control?
She’d find out.