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Don't Forget Me Tomorrow(54)

Author:A.L. Jackson

“Too much?” he asked, his voice so low.

“Not enough,” I admitted.

Surprise jutted out of me when he suddenly had me spun back around and was hoisting me up into his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist.

My arms flew around his neck, and I wanted to complain. Warn him I was too heavy. Or maybe just die of embarrassment.

Except Ryder strode across the floor like I didn’t weigh a thing, his hard cock covered by his jeans rubbing at my bare center. There were no words, nothing I could say, everything these incoherent, whimpering sounds as he carried me where he wanted me.

He propped me on the edge of the table.

And I was gasping again.

This man a whirlwind.

Whiplash.

“Ryder, no, I’m going to break it.”

A growl ripped from him, and his hands cinched down on the tops of my thighs. “You’re not going to fucking break it. And if it breaks, then we broke that shit together.”

He stepped back an inch, and I shifted my bare bottom in a needy discomfort. But that bit of apprehension evaporated when Ryder slowly dragged his gaze over me. Heat seared every spot his eyes touched.

“So gorgeous, Dakota.” His voice was hushed, dragging through the dense air. “Earth shatteringly beautiful. You make the world stop spinning every time I look at you.”

My stupid heart threatened to burst from the confines of my chest, pressing against my ribs in a way I couldn’t let it.

This was physical.

I knew it.

It’s all it could be. Still, his words glided through me like praise. Like he was finally seeing me for the first time. The way I’d wanted him to before I’d lost him somewhere along the way.

But I didn’t have time to contemplate all of that before that gruff voice was issuing another command. “Feet on the table, Cookie. Show me that pretty pussy.”

And I think I’d always known Ryder would be a demanding lover.

That he liked it rough.

That he would tear me apart if I ever got the chance.

But that didn’t mean I was equipped for it. That I could keep up.

That I wasn’t letting go of the most mortifying sound when I complied and hooked my heels on the edge of the table. The tulle of my dress was fully bunched around my waist, and my knees dropped wide and exposed me in a way I’d never been exposed before.

Ryder’s teeth snapped, and the words grated as he sat down in a chair in front of me. “Perfect, Dakota. Just like I knew you would be.”

He ran both hands up the insides of my thighs, spreading me even farther as he watched me with that unrelenting gaze.

Like he was watching for any sign of discomfort.

For any reservation to show.

If there had been any, he’d eradicated them in the path of flames he left behind, his palms inciting a fire as they rose higher and higher.

I lifted my hips toward him, urging him into the same fantasy I’d had about him two nights ago.

He didn’t hesitate.

He wrapped his arms under my legs and dragged me to the edge of the table and dove right in.

He suckled each of my lips before he drove his tongue deep. I shivered and shook as he angled up and swirled his tongue around my clit.

Pleasure sparked.

Tiny fireworks in the black-night sky.

“Is this what you needed, Cookie?” The reverberation of his words rolled through me. “You needed my mouth on you? Needed me to taste this sweet cunt?”

I barely wheezed a desperate, “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he mumbled against my engorged flesh.

He ate me like I was dessert, humming in rapture the way he always did when he ate something I’d baked for him.

Those sounds had always gotten me off, and tonight, they glided through me, that pleasure growing brighter and higher as he devoured me.

As he consumed me.

Drove me toward an ecstasy unlike anything else.

Because I might want to pretend like this was only physical, but I felt him like a life-beat speeding through my veins.

Like purpose.

Like reason.

All of it gathered and strengthened, and I began whimpering and jutting my hips, one hand holding me up on the table and the other going to the back of his head to keep him close, my nails digging into his scalp.

And if it was just one time, then I wanted it all, and the plea was raking up my throat as I yanked at his hair. “I want you to fuck me, Ryder. I want to feel you. All of you.”

He groaned as he stalled for a fraction of a moment before he turned that intense gaze on me. Remorse or maybe it was guilt filled his eyes. “No. You don’t want to go there. Not with me.”

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