Page 112 of The Risk Taker
“They haven’t forgotten about you. Things might have changed, but I promise you, they still think about you, I know it.”
“What if they don’t? What if me coming back is going to ruin everything good they have going?”
“You can’t stay in New York and not tell them you’re here.”
He looks away from me, his jaw tightening.
“Slade?” I press. “That’s not going to work.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I sit up and slide a leg over his hips to straddle him.
He arches a brow. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” I smile, rubbing myself up and down over him. I let out a breathy moan as his piercings glide between my wet pussy lips.
His dick hardens immediately, and he sucks in a breath as my pussy presses against the head of it.
“Enough talking for now. Unless it’s sex talk,” I tease, holding the base of his cock and angling the tip of him where I need to feel him.
I know what he needs. And it’s not for me to push the subject. At least, not yet. He’s come all the way back here after three years. It’s going to take more than a few days for him to get his head around what he needs to do. Plus, I’m terrified about this all going wrong and losing him again.
But I can’t add more pressure by telling him that right now.
What Icando is be here for him.
And make him feel good.
After he saved me from drowning, I needed him. I didn’t know it at the time, but Slade did. And now he needs me. It’s my turn to hold him together. Even if that means by distracting him with so much pleasure that he has no time to think or worry—or consider disappearing without a trace again.
I need him to know he isn’t alone.
“I want you inside me. Do you want that too?”
“Hell yes, Baby. Put me in,” he practically begs.
I sink down onto him, arousal pulsing between my thighs as his pupils blow wide. He groans long and deep, bringing his hands to my hips and holding me still as our skin meets.
He uses his grip on my hips to grind me over his cock, biting his lower lip as he looks at me like I’m the sexiest woman he’s ever seen.
“Jude, fuck….” He frowns, his concentration going to where our bodies meet as I rise and sink back down onto him slowly, keeping a slow, teasing pace.
“Like this?” I murmur, widening my thighs so I can take him deeper.
“Yeah, just like that.”
The tendons in his neck strain as he digs his fingers into my hips, allowing me to keep a steady pace. I know he’s thinkingabout flipping me beneath him and fucking me hard and rough, the way he’s so good at. The way that has me clawing his shoulders and coming so hard I see stars. I can tell by the way his eyes pinch at the corners, glittering with a touch of controlling darkness that’s itching to be unleashed.
But I want this time to be different.
I ride him slowly, our eyes locked in a moment so charged with emotion that I have to remind myself to breathe.
“Slade,” I murmur, placing a hand over his heart, on top of his tattoo.
He threads his fingers through mine, holding them against his skin, and the deep thud of his heart pulses into our combined hands. Reaching up with his other hand, he dusts the backs of his fingers over my cheek and the rapidly forming bruise from where I fell in the alleyway.
His expression hardens as I wince.
