Ryn sits up with me in his lap, and his own chuckles spill out of his mouth. He shakes his head at my mental state and brushes back the strands of wet hair that are plastered to my face. He cups my cheeks, his eyes and lips dancing with mirth, and that’s when it happens: he looks at me like Moro looks at Tysa.
The adoration and love suddenly pouring out of his eyes completely shocks me, and it takes me back to nights at Tysa’s house in the Eyrie and how her mate looked at her like she hung the fucking moon, and all the stars, and stitched the fabric of the sky itself by hand. I remember watching them and thinking to myself that I would never settle for anything less than the way Moro looks at Tysa. And now here it is, only it’s Ryn that I’m staring at, and he has those eyes for me.
I lean in and claim his lips, needing to taste the look on his face, to catalogue it with my tongue and every other sense I possess. I cup his cheeks. Run my fingers through his hair. I want to feel every part of him all at once, but I don’t have enough hands. So I press in against him, pulling at his shirt until it’s gone and I can feel his warm skin against mine.
His hands splay across my back, pressing me in even closer as he drinks me down like I’m the elixir that gives him life. The feeling is heady and overwhelming, but I’m not afraid to look it in the eye, to call it mine, to refuse to ever let it go.
We consume each other unhurriedly. We take our time trading passion and promises and desire back and forth with our mouths and hands and bodies. I’ve never experienced anything like it. The deep-seated need and the easy reverent exploration of each other’s bodies. The ache for one another is so staggering I can’t decide if I want slow devastating kisses all over my body for hours or him buried deep inside of me right now, lighting my body up with each thrust until we combust.
And the best part is, Ryn is mine, and I’m his, so I never have to truly choose just one or the other. I’m going to have a lifetime of learning his body and loving him hard and fast, or savoring the sweet slow consumption of each other. That thought settles in my soul, and something I haven’t felt for a long time takes root.
I stare at the steady thrum of happiness in my chest for a moment, and a smile breaks across my face until Ryn is tasting my rapture and I’m untying his pants. He starts to push them down his thighs, but I’m suddenly impatient. I stroke him once as I line him up with me, and then I waste no time filling myself with his thick hard length.
I throw my head back and moan at the feel of him, and Ryn’s passionate kisses trail down my neck and land on my breast. I pump my hips up and down his length as his hot mouth sucks on my nipples, and his hands knead my breasts and cup my throat, like he also wants to touch everything all at the same time.
As I roll my hips and ride him, our lips catch one another’s here and there, and then flit away to release moans and explore each other’s necks and shoulders and chests. I can’t get enough of him, his kisses and his hands on my body, his cock between my thighs.
“Mine,” I whisper against his ear before I nip on his lobe and suck at the spot on his neck just below his ear.
My pussy clenches around him like she’s staking her own claim, and he growls low and possessively and grabs my ass as he grinds up into me. He reaches down and circles my clit with his thumb, and seconds later an orgasm strikes through me. He kisses me soundly as I grind against him and ride out my release. And then he carefully spins me on his cock so that he’s still deep inside of me, but my back is to his chest instead.
He leans me back, sucking on my neck and squeezing and pinching my nipples until he has me exactly where he wants me, at the perfect angle to take over and thrust up into me hard and fast.
My moans turn into gasps and then quickly morph into cries as Ryn sets himself firmly in the driver’s seat and drives his cock so deep and so fast inside of me that I’m all at once overloaded with sensations and also never want him to stop. He fucks me right into another massive orgasm as he holds onto my hips and shows me who the fuck I belong to.
He nips at my neck and drops one of his hands back down to my clit, playing with me until I’m a mewling, writhing mess of a mate, only capable of screaming yes and right there, as he owns me body and soul.
I feel his muscles tense a second before he groans my name and bites down on my shoulder as he pumps his release into me. I’m still riding the tail end of another orgasm, and I’m half delirious as he relaxes beneath me, his hands now slowly and sensually caressing my body. We just lie like that for a while, not saying a word, but letting our hands stroke and caress and communicate everything our mouths aren’t. I’m suddenly with Pigeon on the whole napping thing.
