Wild Embrace (Wilder Irish #11) - Mari Carr Page 0,49

it.”

“I disagree.”

Ryder shook his head slowly, but it felt like she was starting to wear him down.

At least until he grasped at his next straw. “It doesn’t matter. Because truthfully, me calling a halt has very little to do with my feelings for Denise.”

Darcy frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Saturday night…what we did…it wasn’t…me.” Ryder reached out and grasped her wrist. She thought he’d been aiming for her hand, so she tried to move to take it.

Ryder didn’t release her wrist. Instead, he tightened his hold. Given the way her body was reacting to his firm grip on her wrist, it was safe to say this was another area where they were well-suited. Her nipples budded, something that didn’t escape Ryder’s notice as his gaze drifted lower.

What he couldn’t see was the way her pussy was clenching, her panties wet.

This argument was worse than the previous one, which made her think perhaps there was something else driving him, something he wasn’t saying.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispered.

His brows furrowed, though she couldn’t tell if he was angry or frustrated or fighting the same heart-thumping, blood-pumping arousal she was.

“I’m not an easy lover.”

“I didn’t ask for easy,” she said. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I asked for exactly the opposite.”

He growled, the deep, guttural sound rumbling in his throat. He’d been the epitome of the gentle lover on Saturday, and while she’d loved every single moment of it, she would never be satisfied with just that.

“I’ll make demands,” he said harshly. “And I’ll exp—”

“Demand something,” she interjected. “Right now. What do you want?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You, on your knees.”

Darcy shifted, leaving the couch, dropping down in front of him, her eyes locked with his.

“Fuck. This isn’t…I’m trying… Get up, Darcy,” he muttered, his jaw clenched tightly. He ran a hand through his chestnut-colored hair in frustration, clearly wrestling some serious demons.

“No.”

His tone was pure exasperation when he said, “You gotta let me win one of these damn arguments.”

She didn’t mean to—and it certainly didn’t help his disposition—but she laughed as he reached for her upper arms, intent on lifting her up. She held her ground, refusing to rise. “No. I don’t.”

“Dammit, I mean it.”

She shook him off. “What else?” she asked. “What else do you want, Ryder? Tell me.”

Ryder stared at her as she remained on the floor at his feet, his expression hard, but she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her. It was directed at himself. He’d brought her in here with the intention of breaking things off. But there was no way in hell she was going down without a fight.

Her heart was racing, not out of fear, but excitement. This…this was what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped for from the beginning. If only she could make him loosen the noose he’d draped around his own neck and set himself free. She didn’t doubt for a moment she’d go wild in his embrace.

“Cursed,” he muttered.

This time, she knew better than to laugh or smile or even react. Though he had no clue what that word did to her. How it made her feel.

He unfastened his belt, his eyes never leaving hers. He didn’t say a word as he unzipped his pants, lifted his ass, and slid them and his boxers to his ankles.

Darcy’s gaze slid down as she licked her lips, but she didn’t move. He hadn’t told her to. This was a test, and there was no way in hell Darcy was going to fail.

“Fuck,” he muttered at last. Then he reached out and gripped her chin, drawing her eyes up to his. “I don’t remember blowjobs on your list of prior experience.”

She wasn’t about to back down. She wanted this. Him. God, she wanted everything. “Then you’d better make those demands very specific.”

“Open your mouth.”

This time, Darcy gave him just the barest hint of a smile, and his eyes narrowed briefly in response. He was struggling with what was happening, so she schooled her features. After all, she wasn’t the type to kick a dog when he was down.

Not that Ryder was down.

As she leaned forward, all she could see was how very, very up he was.

She opened her mouth when she was a mere inch from his dick.

“Lick my cock,” he said, his voice deep, either with arousal or anger. She didn’t know which and she definitely didn’t care. “From base to tip. Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Darcy rested her hands on his upper thighs, outstretched just for her. She did as he commanded,