wanted to run from it. She didn’t, though, not now. Because it felt essential to who she might become as a person.
Because it felt like a reclaiming of something she hadn’t even known she needed.
To have a man look at her like this. Like he was starving for her. Like he was so hungry he might devour her completely. And maybe that was the real issue. She had never had a man look at her like this before because she had never been ready for a man like this.
She had never been ready for the commitment that was required to feel these things, to give back what needed to be given in order to create a connection like this.
Because it was so big, so intense, and there wasn’t another man on the planet that she could’ve ever trusted to hold on to these feelings. Except she could trust him. Because he was Ryder, and he was wonderful. Because he had always taken care of her. And he would even now.
He hooked his finger into the waistband of her panties and started to pull them down her legs, revealing that last secret from him, even though he had tasted her intimately last night.
She knew he hadn’t seen her. Not like this.
He let out a curse. Short and sharp, and somehow, it sounded more like a prayer.
Especially when he whispered her name at the end like a hallelujah chorus. Especially then.
He pushed himself up then, on his knees in front of her, looming above her where she lay. And she could see him.
Her mouth went dry.
She had never, ever thought of herself as the kind of woman who cared much about things like that. The size of a man, when after all, weren’t there endless articles on the internet talking about how size didn’t matter anyway? And that whatever women thought they might feel they were wrong, because the scientific fact was you couldn’t tell, etc. etc.
But her whole body tensed with excitement looking at him. Hands down the biggest man she had ever seen.
Big all over. And on some level, she had figured that he must be proportionate, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it.
She was human.
She often pondered, in a passing sense, the penis size of the men around her.
She was curious by nature.
But this was visceral, and it was real, knowledge that hit her deeply and was extremely relevant to what would be happening to her soon. Very soon.
His body was so beautiful, sculpted, perfect, and she had the desire, almost overwhelming, to worship it.
So it was her turn to get up on her knees, and when she did she kissed his chest. His neck. Migrating along his hard-cut jaw until she captured his mouth. And when she slid her tongue against his he growled. She could feel the heavy length of him twitch against her hip bone. Reflexively, she reached between them, curling her fingers around that hardness.
So smooth and hot and heavy in her hand.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered. “Like art. Like art I want to lick.”
A growl rumbled in his chest as she kissed her way down his body, angling herself in front of his masculinity and flicking her tongue over the head of him.
Salty and musky and wonderfully him.
It was such an absurdly intimate thing to do to her best friend, and yet it never felt wrong.
He had been there for her all this time, this wonderful, incredibly beautiful man. And he had existed like this during all those years.
Just this beautiful. Just this incredible, and able to give her pleasure that no other man ever had.
And she felt nothing but wonder at that. And what was there to do but take him in deep and express that wonder with everything she had.
He pushed his fingers through her hair, holding on to her tight, and the hollow ache between her legs intensified. Grew. Expanded.
How was it that pleasuring him only increased the desire in her?
She didn’t understand how it worked.
And she wondered if he felt this last night, felt it and then had to leave without any kind of satisfaction.
It made her believe what he’d said about walking away.
That he’d really done it because of her.
Because he was worried that she was afraid. Because he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of her or the moment.
And that only made her want to pleasure him all the more. But she was feeling restless.
She pressed her own fingers down between her legs and tried to ease the