Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2) (14 page)

That thought spoken out loud was a jolt to her senses. She wasn’t sure if she should be turned on or offended. This wasn’t a game—not to her, anyway—and she didn’t want him seeing her as just another conquest. Yet, that was what she was, right? Just another notch on his jujitsu black belt? But then, that was all this could ever be, wasn’t it?—a fling. Neither of them was in any position to have a relationship.

Don’t over think it, Ryann, just go with it . . .
Her inner conscience seemed to have no qualms about leading her astray. If she knew the score, he couldn’t hurt her, right? This was a purely physical, no-strings-attached thing. A part of her really wanted to experience what this fighter was offering. If her prior experiences were anything to judge by, this was something she might not ever experience again. “Well, you’d be the first . . .”

He froze as the confession passed her lips. Oh, shit, did she really just say that out loud? A look of total shock briefly crossed his face before it was quickly replaced by a cocky Disco grin. If she didn’t want him seeing her as a game, that had certainly been the wrong thing to say to a man whose life was built around competition and being the best. But before she could tap out and tell him to get off her, that she’d changed her mind, his arrogant smile was replaced by one of genuine interest. Unguarded, his walls down, it was a glimpse of Aiden she’d briefly seen and one she wasn’t so ready to dismiss.

“Really?” he asked her, sounding a bit skeptical and disbelieving. “You’ve never had an—”

She cut him off before she had to hear him say it out loud. It was too embarrassing. For crying out loud, she was twenty-six years old and she’d never had an orgasm with a man. Sure, Aiden had brought her close the first time that they’d gotten hot and heavy, but close was no O. Just like the others, he’d yet to seal the deal. Maybe there was something wrong with her. None of her friends had ever seemed to have any trouble.

“Of course I have,” she snapped. “Just not . . . with anyone.” Oh, cripes, it didn’t sound any better coming from her mouth than his.

He looked at her as if she were a circus oddity. Okay, sharing time was over. Embarrassment was an excellent mood killer. “You know what, I don’t want to do this anymore. Let me up.” She tried to sit up but Aiden didn’t move, nor did he release his grip on her breasts.

“Hey, what are you getting so defensive about?”

“Let me up, Aiden.” That determined furrow of his tawny brows told her she was fighting a losing battle here. Still, she wasn’t a quitter. Ryann attempted again. Fail.

“Not letting you go, darlin’. Not until you tell me why you’re so upset.”

He really didn’t get it, did he? Of course not. Exhaling a sigh, she dropped her head back onto the pillow, refusing to meet his penetrating stare. What should she tell him? After a brief moment of deliberation, she opted for the truth. It was her best chance at getting him to let her go. “I’m not mad, Aiden. It’s . . . embarrassing. I don’t even know why I told you in the first place. I certainly didn’t mean to.”

Now his handsome face contorted into a confused scowl. “I still don’t get it. What’s there to be embarrassed about? If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be the guys that failed to do their job.”

Well, that was definitely a different way of looking at things. “What if . . .”
Oh, hell . . .
“What if the problem wasn’t them? What if it’s me?”

He laughed—the asshole actually had the nerve to laugh at her!

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” she snapped, renewing her efforts to get away.

But he held her firm, amusement playing on his low husky voice when he said, “Sweetheart, I can guarantee the problem is most definitely not you.” All trace of humor left him when those heart-stopping amber eyes locked on her. Reaching up, he tenderly brushed his thumb over her cheek. “It would be my honor to prove it to you.”

The sincerity in his husky voice, the unguarded honesty reflecting in his eyes . . . This man right here, right now, was the male she’d sensed behind all those walls, behind all that show. And the culmination of it shattered the last vestiges of her control. In that moment, something inside Ryann shifted, connecting to Aiden on a whole other level that scared the ever-loving hell out of her. She so did not want this man getting under her skin, burrowing inside her heart. And she knew if he did, most assuredly, Aiden Kruze was going to break her heart—some things were just inevitable truths. Yet, despite all her head knowledge and the internal warnings sounding off, her body was past the point of caring. Throwing caution to the wind, she found herself saying, “All right, then. Prove it.”

CHAPTER

 14 

H
oly hell . . . She actually said yes, and the power behind those words, the vulnerability and trust in her eyes, hit him in the solar plexus like one of Del Toro’s sucker punches. If he let himself think on it too long, he’d read more into her response than was there. He’d made that mistake with Ryann before—multiple times, actually—misinterpreting her thoughts, her intentions, and he wouldn’t be played the fool again. This was just sex. She hadn’t given him any indication she wanted or expected this to be something more. Why that sent a pang of disappointment rocketing through him, he didn’t even want to know.

He did casual sex all the time. Shit, he was the grand master of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, so why was his head getting so fucked over this fiery ginger? Just because he was about to give Ryann the first male-induced orgasm of her life, he had no doubt he was up to the task. It wasn’t performance anxiety tightening that invisible band around his chest—was it? No, it was something much worse . . .

God help me, I think I might actually care for her.

Oh, this was bad. This was really, really, bad . . . Perhaps it wasn’t too late to rescind the offer. He tried to reerect his walls that, fuck him, lay in a heap of crumbled rock at her feet. How had this woman so swiftly and so thoroughly laid siege to the impenetrable fortress around his heart? He didn’t want to like her, and he sure as hell didn’t want to care about her. But there was something about Ryann that got to him. Perhaps it was the vulnerability hidden behind her tough exterior that he knew was nothing more than window dressing. Maybe it was the fresh-faced “girl next door” innocence that stirred his protective instincts to life. Could it be the intelligent and clever, albeit manipulative, mind of hers that intrigued him so? In every way, body, mind and soul, she was so unlike any woman he’d ever met, and she was about to give herself to him. Her first release . . . The thought shot an unwelcome arrow of warmth into his defenseless heart.

Yeah . . . this was definitely a mistake. He needed to get away from her and clear his head, despite the tantrum his body was throwing at the prospect of not having her. His cock was already weeping like a baby. Without a doubt he’d never wanted a woman more than the one beneath him right now, looking up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, shadowed with a hint of nervousness and doubt that he’d be able to deliver all he’d promised.
Fuck.

He must have hesitated too long, let his mask of confidence slip, because her shy smile faltered and with bravado he knew she didn’t feel, she purred, “What’s the matter, Disco? Not up for the job, after all? Does the cocky ‘Disco Stick’ Kruze doubt his ability to make good on his promises?”

Her sassy comment hit him below the belt on so many levels it wasn’t even funny. She didn’t want
him
, he suddenly realized with a blow that knocked the air from his lungs. She wanted “Disco Stick,” the MMA fighter and notorious playboy. And she’d taken a cheap shot at his ego by baiting him with doubts about his prowess. As much as this was a bad idea and as harsh a beating as his heart was going to take for it later, he could not, would not, back down from a challenge. If she wanted Disco so fucking bad, then she could have him.

If Ryann could have turned back time and recanted those words, she would have done it in a heartbeat. She’d only wanted to protect her heart by trying to convince herself this was just sex and nothing more. Her attempt to disguise her fear, which was mounting with each passing second as he hovered over her, staring at her with those entrancing eyes that she would swear could see into her soul, just blew up in her face.

Something flashed across his handsome face a moment before that famous Disco mask slipped into place. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was pain, but the emotion was gone so fast, surely she’d imagined it. Ryann knew a profound feeling of regret, and then loss as their connection flickered out like a candle in the wind. She almost stopped him to apologize and attempt to rekindle that spark—almost—but in that next moment Aiden was on her and Ryann’s mind went blank to anything other than the feeling of this powerful male whose sole purpose suddenly became her pleasure.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as his mouth claimed hers—hard and fierce. His tongue, intrusive and dominating, as aggressive as the fighter himself. It stole her breath to be kissed so thoroughly, the only oxygen that gifted her lungs was given by him. The air was marked with his scent, rich and masculine . . . intoxicating.

Before she knew it, she was stripped bare. There was no pause this time for admiration, no sense that Aiden truly
saw
her. Not like before. And despite how amazing it felt to be in is arms, how pleasurable his touch was—and it did feel amazing—something was missing. It was Aiden, she realized with a sharp pang of regret. He was with her, but he wasn’t
with
her. And she didn’t know how to reach him, how to get him back. Her thoughts were a quagmire of
Let’s talk about this. Whoa, wait, slow down!
And
Oh, yes! Right there! Please, don’t stop!

His mouth sucked greedily at her breast, teeth nipping and tongue teasing away the pain. It had been over a year since she’d been intimate with anyone, and her poor, neglected breasts were overly sensitive. They felt swollen and heavy in Aiden’s grip, and a direct current of energy seemed to radiate from them right into her core. She was like a live wire, and Aiden was her power source. Every place his hands touched sparks of white-hot desire shot beneath her skin, and when his hand slipped between her legs, his deft fingers parting the slick folds of her flesh, a needy whimper escaped her throat. Her hips shamelessly lifted, encouraging his penetrating touch. The tension knotting low in her stomach was nearly too much to bear.

He played her like a pro, knowing her body better than she did. Stroking, toying, torturing . . . he touched her without seeming hesitation or thought, instinctively knowing how to bring her maximum pleasure, while defiantly denying her ardent, unspoken request to enter her and finally bring relief to this sweet torment. Her core ached so badly, her channel clenched impatiently, begging to be filled. Why wouldn’t he take her? It was almost as if he knew he was torturing her—punishing her.

Oh, mercy, was he punishing her? Was he mad at her?—sweet, merciful heaven, if this was Aiden mad, then she had to make a note-to-self to piss him off more often.

She was close! So close! If he’d just . . .

His thumb found the small bundle of nerves at the top of her sex.
Yes!
Her breaths quickened, muscles tensed, hips arching . . .
Almost there!
She wanted him inside her, needed him inside her now.

Unable to put thought to voice and impatient to finally experience release, she reached between them to grab his erection and guide him home. What the hell? Aiden was still wearing his underwear. She’d assumed he’d divested himself of that cumbersome cotton back when he’d stripped her of hers. Was he not planning to have sex with her?—and if no, why the hell not? She knew he had a condom, had seen it when the officer had sent it flying out of his wallet earlier tonight, so that couldn’t be what was holding him back.

Not that he would know, but she was on the pill, and being an MMA fighter, she knew they underwent rigorous health screenings all the time, so commando was a-okay with her. Anything to ease this sensual agony.

Seeking to rectify Aiden’s oversight and grab the bull by the horn, so to speak, Ryann shed his boxer briefs and hooked the waistband with her toe, dragging them down his impossibly long legs. When she gripped the steel length of his shaft and stroked him a couple of times before guiding him forward, he snarled a surprisingly foul curse and none too gently removed her hand from his very large, very impressive manhood.

“You come on my terms, sweetheart, not yours.” There was nothing soft or caring in his term of endearment, and his eyes had long lost their warm amber glow, turning him 100 percent Disco Prick. What was she doing? This wasn’t what she wanted. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, she wanted him—badly—but she wanted Aiden, not this . . . cocky, arrogant ass who thought he was God’s gift to women, even if it probably was true.

Before she could respond, he dipped his head and nipped the fleshy swell of her breast. “Stop.” Her command was breathy and lacked authority, but no was still no, right?

His mouth moved lower . . . His hands grabbed her inner thighs, spreading her farther to accommodate the wide breadth of his shoulder as he kissed, licked, and nipped his way down her stomach. Oh, no, he wasn’t going to . . . Oh, he was! When Aiden dipped his head and parted her folds with his tongue, a hoarse cry tore from her throat and her hips bucked off the bed. Aiden’s hands circled her waist, anchoring her in place as he set in to a full feast of her flesh.

The coil of hot, burning need searing her core was back with a vengeance, wound tighter than before and growing stronger by the second. Not like this! She didn’t want to come like this, not with this unspoken rift of tension between them.

“Aiden, wait . . .” she panted, struggling to claw through the haze of drunken lust addling her brain, making it nearly impossible to put two words together.

“Oh, now it’s ‘Aiden,’ is it?” he growled against her sex. “First you want Disco, then it’s Aiden. You can’t have them both, baby girl, so which is it? What do you want?” The heat of his breath, the rumble of his voice against her sex, made her breath catch in her throat and a whimper pass her lips. The delay in answering, her mewled response that wasn’t really a response at all, was all it took for him to draw his own conclusion, which was wrong. His top lip curled in that lopsided grin she was quickly learning was the equivalent to a snarl. “That’s what I thought.”

No! Wait!

Lowering his head those scant few inches, Aiden’s hands slid beneath her ass, gripping her so hard she’d surely be bruised from his touch. Ryann briefly registered the pain before his tongue plunged inside her, blurring the lines of pain and heightening her pleasure until all was lost—all thought, all breath . . . all control.

The hard metal ball of his tongue piercing dragged against the top of her opening, then centered on the bead of her sex as he plunged two fingers deep inside her. That was all it took. She couldn’t take anymore, and with a broken cry, she shattered. Her core milked his touch, the euphoria crashing over her in rhythmic waves of pure bliss.

Her hands fisted into his hair, holding him against her as she rode out this incredible high. As the last few tremors racked her body, she was mindless with awe. Nothing had ever felt this good. No one had ever kissed her like that, which starkly reminded her how incredibly inexperienced she was—and sadly, inadequate, compared to this magnificent man between her legs.

As she lay there in the afterglow of
Wow, I can’t believe that really happened . . .
She reluctantly uncurled her fingers knotted in his hair and mumbled the first thing that came to her lust-drunk mind. “That was . . . that was . . . amazing.”