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No man had ever offered to pleasure her without expecting anything in return. It had always been the other way round. She had planned to use him for sex originally and he had definitely used her, so maybe she was entitled to all this attention and she shouldn’t feel guilty about …
‘Maddy, relax.’ She opened her eyes to find him watching her, a rueful smile on his face. ‘Stop thinking so much.’
‘How can you tell I’m thinking too much?’ she asked. Could those penetrating blue eyes see right into her soul? She didn’t even know this guy.
He chuckled, discarded the sponge. His large hands settled on her shoulders, strong fingers massaging tight muscles.
‘You’re tensing up. Relax. Enjoy. We’ve got all night.’ His thumbs traced her collarbone then drifted under the water to circle her nipples.
She let the little moan out before she could stop herself.
‘That’s better,’ he said, like a teacher with a particularly bright pupil. ‘Are your breasts very sensitive, then?’
‘Yes.’ She gulped the word out, not sure she could breathe as he played with the swollen peaks. ‘Aren’t everyone’s?’
He laughed. ‘Not necessarily. Some women can come like this. Others can hardly feel it.’
Exactly how many women had he slept with? From the way his clever caresses were making her breasts ache and throb and fire shimmer down to her core, she suspected quite a few. Maddy pushed the thought away. It would only make her feel inadequate.
Her brow furrowed. And she wasn’t the one who should feel inadequate.
Tender lips touched her brow as his fingers stilled on her breasts. ‘You’re thinking again, Maddy.’
She opened her eyes. ‘I know; I can’t help it.’ She angled her head, took in the long fingers cradling her bobbing breasts, felt the aching response at her core. ‘I’m not used to this much attention. I feel a bit awkward.’
The minute she’d said it, she wished she could take it back.
Way to go, Mads. Why not make yourself sound like a charity case?
And, anyway, she didn’t feel awkward; she felt hot and achy and dangerously out of control. But what he was doing made her feel oddly exposed too.
He took his hands off her breasts, which immediately felt the loss, and brushed her hair back from her brow. ‘You know something, Maddy, I’ve never met a woman like you.’
He levered himself off the seat beside the tub before she could reply.
Was that a compliment or a criticism?
He took a fluffy white towel out of the cabinet and unfolded it.
Maddy’s heart sank. He’d got tired of her. She’d ruined her sexual adventure already—with her stupid overthinking. She’d had her chance to be seduced and she’d blown it.
But, when he turned towards her, she could see humour and seduction smiling in his eyes. ‘Out of the water, Madeleine.’ He held the towel up in front of him like a bullfighter. ‘I want to taste you and I can’t do that while you’re in the bath. Not without a snorkel.’
Fire rocketed to her core and she had to clasp her arms across her chest to stop the insistent throbbing.
He wanted to what?
The grin split his handsome features, those damn dimples winking again. ‘Damn, Maddy. Don’t tell me no guy’s ever tasted you before? What kind of morons have you been dating?’
She was beginning to wonder the same thing herself. Just the thought of those firm, sensual lips on certain very sensitive parts of her anatomy was making her feel dizzy.
‘I …’ she began.
His lips tilted some more. And she realised he was looking ever so slightly smug.
‘Of course they have,’ she lied smoothly, stepping out of the tub and shielding herself with her arms.
The man already had the upper hand. It was way past time she wrestled back a little control here. After all, she was supposed to be the one in charge, not him.
She dropped her arms to her sides as she let him wrap the bath sheet around her shoulders.
Stop behaving like a shy virgin. You’re not. You’re a strong,sexually powerful woman who is about to have the most thrilling night of her life.
He pulled the pins out of her hair, then drew the damp locks to one side and nipped the cord in her neck. She shuddered.
‘Great, so you like oral sex?’ The low murmured question shivered over her nape.
‘I love it,’ she said boldly, feeling like a lamb pretending to be a lion. And started as his arousal butted her bottom through the layers of denim and towelling.
He felt huge, bigger than she remembered.
She knew her sex life had always been fairly pedestrian. She’d only had two proper boyfriends and neither of them had been very inventive in bed—and she was beginning to realise they hadn’t been particularly well-endowed either. Which was why she’d wanted a wild, reckless, wanton fling in the first place. But why did she suddenly feel like a total novice? And why was heat flooding between her thighs like lava?
He swung her round to face him, rubbed his hands down her arms and placed them on her hips to draw her close. ‘Good,’ he said, touching her nose. ‘Because I love it too. And if you taste as delicious as you smell, we’re both in for a real treat.’
Oh, dear, Maddy thought as he guided her into the bedroom.
Exactly how wild and wanton and reckless was this fling going to get?
‘Please … Rye.’ The strangled moan finished with a long, slow groan. ‘I can’t. Not again. I’ll die.’
Maddy fisted her fingers into his shaggy hair as his head drifted lower. She wanted to haul him back to maintain her sanity, but instead her legs opened and her back bowed, arching her into his mouth instinctively.
Her breath panted out as he licked her belly button and probed at her core with knowing fingers to expose her to his gaze.
‘You’re beautiful.’ The whisper of hot breath across impossibly sensitized flesh made her jump as the heat pounded remorselessly back to life.
He swirled his tongue over the inside of her thighs.
‘Please.’ She gasped, not sure what she was begging for any more.
She couldn’t come. Not again. Surely it was a physical impossibility?
He hadn’t just tasted her. He’d devoured her. Feasted on every last naked inch of her skin. He’d discovered erogeneous zones she didn’t even know she had. Hell, she’d discovered ones she didn’t even know existed.
She’d come so many times she’d lost count. He would let her rest for a while, the lazy stroking never stopping, and then he’d start all over again.
Her body had become one raw, pulsating nerve that had surrendered totally to his will. Her flesh a slave to the rough, insistent strokes of his tongue, the knowing caress of callused, clever fingers.
‘Once more, Madeleine.’ He chuckled. ‘I insist.’
Then he found the hard, wet, swollen nub of her clitoris with his mouth and suckled.
Maddy sobbed, the sound elemental, desperate, as the coil of heat that had been building for an eternity ignited and burst into flames. The raging inferno seared through her body and she screamed, bucking under him, the raw pulsating nerve detonating into a mass of silvery shards that rocketed her over the edge and into the abyss.
‘Madeleine, are you okay?’
Maddy drifted back to consciousness, the warm fuzzy feeling of afterglow making it difficult for her to get annoyed by the wry humour in his tone.
She gave a long, slow sigh, her limbs finally reviving. ‘I’m dead,’ she murmured. ‘Of course I’m not okay.’
Her eyelids fluttered open and a satisfied smile curved her lips to match his. Wow, she’d never had a clue foreplay could be this amazing. And Rye King was a master at it. After the hour she’d spent in his arms she was beginning to realise her past sex life had been nothing short of pathetic.
He kissed her, the taste of her own essence on his lips unbearably erotic. ‘I think you’ll survive,’ he said as he banded his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace.
Resting her cheek against his naked chest, she could hear the pistoning beat of his heart, smell the musty scent of fresh male sweat—and feel the bulge of his erection still pulsing through faded denim. He’d refused point-blank to get completely naked with her, insisting that the rest of the evening was for her, not him. But the guilty flush crept up her neck again anyway.
That had to be painful. He’d been hard for close to an hour. As wonderful as it had been to be the focus of his attention, and on the receiving end of all his hard work, she couldn’t help feeling guilty and unbelievably selfish that he’d had no release.
Placing her palm on his chest, she moved back to peer into his face. ‘Rye, are you sure you don’t want me to …’ the silly blush got worse’ … do something for you? You’ve given me so much.’
He covered her hand, his pensive smile making her heart punch her chest. ‘Maddy, you’ve given me more. Believe me.’
Tenderness blind-sided her at the enigmatic comment. What could she possibly have given him that he hadn’t given her back ten-fold?
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, suddenly desperate to probe beneath the surface. ‘How could I have?’
He stiffened, drew his arm away as he sat up. ‘Forget it. It’s not important,’ he said, his expression shutting her out.
She understood instantly, she’d been dismissed. And struggled to ignore the silly little dart of pain.
She mustn’t start acting like a girl now. This was a purely sexual fling and absolutely nothing more. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything for this man. Nothing outside the physical. And he clearly felt nothing for her. That had been understood when they’d jumped into bed together without a thing between them except sexual attraction.
Pulling the sheet back, he got out of bed. ‘I’ll go stick your stuff in the dryer,’ he said, his back to her as he grabbed his T-shirt off the floor and put it on. ‘How about I cook us dinner before I drive you home?’
‘That would be nice. Thanks,’ Maddy said, disorientated by the abrupt change in his manner despite all her careful justifications. She clutched the sheet to her chest as he left the room.
The door closed behind him—and she slumped down into the pillows.
The problem was she had absolutely no experience with this kind of relationship and she didn’t know the rules. While they’d been making love … or, rather, having sex … it had been easy to concentrate on the physical and nothing else. But somehow the intimacy had crept up on her while she wasn’t looking. She absolutely mustn’t start reading things into this that weren’t there.
Ryan King was a handsome, exciting, superbly sexy enigma. And he had to stay that way. Tonight had been about sex. Incredible sex. And nothing else. The man was clearly a veteran of one-night flings. His comprehensive knowledge of female anatomy was proof of that.
She’d just have to take her cue from him. And not let her tendency to over-emotionalise and over-think every little nuance of a relationship get in the way. Clearly, personal, probing questions were not the way to go in this situation.
But, as Maddy walked into the bathroom to wash and then scouted the bedroom for her discarded clothing, all the questions she yearned to ask Rye King about his strangely barren home, about his past, about his present—and the reasons why he’d given her so much and taken so little—crowded into her head like corn kernels popping on a hot stove.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘COULD I ask you a question?’ Maddy kept her eyes on the simple meal of scrambled eggs on toast Rye had rustled up.
She heard the clink of his knife and fork and looked up to find him watching her. She tried not to fidget or feel intimidated. She’d waited a decent amount of time before giving in to her curiosity. But she simply wasn’t enough of a guy to let this one go.
‘Sure,’ he replied, but she could hear the slight edge in his voice. ‘What do you want to know?’
It was hardly a fulsome invitation. The question got caught in her throat.
Spit it out, Mads. You’re entitled to ask one stupid question.
The man had been inside her, for goodness’ sake. He’d licked her to orgasm. More than once. Maybe it was a girl thing, but curiosity didn’t have to be bad. And, frankly, after the silence that had stretched out between them ever since she’d ventured into the kitchen to find him cooking their meal, she wasn’t sure she could swallow another bite until she got at least one piece of popcorn out of her head.
‘Is this your house?’
His eyebrows lifted.
‘It’s just … it doesn’t seem to suit you,’ she rushed on, feeling foolish when his forehead creased. How would she know what suited him?
‘That’s the question?’ He gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Seriously?’
‘Well, yes.’ Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. ‘What did you think I was going to ask?’
He leaned back in his chair, stretched his long legs out and drummed the fingers of one hand on the table. The considering look he sent her made her cheeks heat a little. Why did she feel like a particularly rare amoeba under a microscope?
‘I thought you were going to ask what everyone asks,’ he said.
‘Which is?’
‘How I got to be a cripple.’
The blunt statement threw her for a moment. Until she remembered. Her gaze flicked to his thigh. ‘Oh, you mean your limp.’
He chuckled, but without bitterness. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on the table. ‘Don’t you want to know how I messed up my leg?’
‘Not particularly,’ she said staunchly. ‘It sounds like it’s a sore subject.’
He barked out a laugh. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
She winced, mortified, as she realised what she’d said. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make fun of your injury.’ She lurched up, began piling their plates. ‘Why don’t I wash up and get going?’
‘Sit down.’ His hand covered hers where it gripped the plate. ‘It’s okay.’ His thumb stroked the back of her hand. ‘You didn’t offend me. I’m far too sensitive about the stupid thing, anyway.’
She sat down, sighed, letting him link his fingers with hers. ‘I tend to speak before I think. Steve hated it.’
‘Who’s Steve?’ he asked, lifting her fingers and kissing the knuckles.
‘My ex.’ She tugged her hand away, surprised by the thump of her heartbeat at the absent gesture.
A slow suggestive smile curved his lips as he regarded her with an unwavering gaze. ‘Your ex, the moron?’
