The Wrong Room II

My hand moved from his shirt to his shoulder. His hand also tightened slightly around my waist. We stood from the sofa still close to each other. My back touched the edge of the bed. Ryan stopped. He looked into my eyes. “You sure?” My heart was pounding. I wanted it so I nodded anyways.

Ryan leaned in again, and I closed my eyes as he kissed me again. I pulled him closer, just as a loud knock suddenly came from the door. We both froze. “Mr. Ryan?” a man's voice called from outside.

I opened my eyes. Ryan stared toward the door. “Who is that?”

Then the handle began to turn. And neither of us had time to move. The door was locked so the handle stopped moving. I held my breath.

Ryan looked at the door, then back at me.

“Mr. Ryan?” the voice called again.

Ryan lowered his voice.

“Give me a second.”

He took one step toward the door.

I caught his hand. “Wait.”

He looked at me. I didn't know why I stopped him. Maybe because I didn't want the moment to end or because I was suddenly afraid that if he opened that door, everything between us would disappear.

Another knock sounded. “Mr. Ryan?”

Ryan glanced at the door again.

“I'm here.”

“Sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to remind you about tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.”

“Your brother asked me to make sure you're up early.”

Ryan sighed. “I'll be up.”

“Alright. Good night, sir.”

“Good night.”

We heard footsteps moving away. I finally breathed. Ryan turned back toward me. For a second, neither of us spoke. Then he smiled. “You're still holding my hand.”

I looked down. I was. I quickly let go. “Sorry.”

“Why do you keep apologizing?”

“I don't know.”

He stepped closer. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Apologizing.”

His voice was really soft. I smiled. “Okay.” He was standing close enough that I could feel his warmth again. The interruption should have made things awkward. Instead, somehow, it made everything feel more intense.

I looked at him. “Who was that?”

“Someone helping with the wedding. He brought a message from my brother”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded. “You haven't told me much about him.”

“I'll tell you tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow?”

“Because right now, I'm trying very hard to concentrate on something else.”

My heart skipped. “What's that?”

He didn't answer. He simply reached for my shirt. His fingers brushed the soft fabric right over my chest. Slow and carefully. Like he was afraid I might stop him. I didn’t stop him. I leaned in closer instead. My breath hit his neck. Warm and a little shaky. “Go on” I whispered.

He nodded. His dark eyes stayed on mine, looking so hungry. “Yeah. You’ve been so sure for a while.” I smiled. That small, knowing smile I save for moments like this. The kind that says I already know how this ends.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re so warm.” I reached for him too. I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in. Our mouths met hard. No soft testing this time. It was open, wet, tongues sliding. Teeth clicking once before we found the rhythm.

I pushed him back against the couch cushions. I climbed into his lap and sat on him. My knees pressed into the soft fabric on either side of his hips. His hands went straight to my ass. He squeezed it hard, like he owned it already.

I rolled my hips once. It was slow and deliberate. I felt his cock already hard under me, really thick and pressing up against the spot that made my breath catch. “Shit,” I breathed against his mouth. “You’re ready.”

“I’ve been so ready,” he said. His voice rough. “Since you walked in looking like that.”

I laughed softly. The sound turned into a quiet moan when his hands slid higher under my shirt. His fingers found my nipples and brushed them. He circled and also pinched it just enough to sting in the best way. I arched into his touch. Head tipping back. Eyes half closed. “Yeah, more.” I said.

He pulled my shirt up and off in one smooth move. He then tossed it somewhere behind the couch. His mouth was on my boob a second later. Hot and wet. His tongue flicking over one nipple while his hand worked the other. I moaned. Louder this time. The sound filled the quiet room. “Ahh… fuck yes.”

His teeth scraped gently. Then he sucked more hard. The pull went straight down between my legs. I felt myself get wetter and hotter. My hips rolled again without me telling them to. He groaned against my skin. The vibration made me shiver. I reached between us. I found the button of his jeans and popped it open. His zipper went down. Then I slid my hand inside. 

His cock was thick, hard. Already leaking a little at the tip. I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked once. Slow from base to tip. His head dropped back against the couch. A deep, broken sound left his throat. “Mmm… damn.”

I did it again, twisting my wrist on the upstroke, the way I knew felt good. His hips jerked up into my hand. “Take these off,” I said. My voice was steady even though my heart was racing. He lifted his hips. I shoved the jeans and boxers down together. He kicked them off the rest of the way. Now he was bare under me. Hot skin against the thin fabric of my shorts. I stood just long enough to shove my own shorts and underwear down. I stepped out of them and climbed back on. Skin to skin now. Nothing between us.

I reached down and lined him up. I rubbed the head of his cock through my wet pussy. Back and forth, coating him. Teasing us both. He hissed through his teeth. “Don’t play. Put it in.”

I looked him in the eyes. Smiled that same knowing smile. “Say please.”

His hands tightened on my hips. Fingers digging in. “Please fuck. Please.”