Soul Surrender Read Free Page B

just get a refund.” He peeled away, and the absence of his touch flamed on my skin.
    â€œNo.” I loathed that the word escaped my mouth as almost a whimper. I clamped his hand tighter in my fist and tugged him toward me once more. “It’s fine.”
    Fire danced in his eyes. I shivered, not quite understanding what this raw and exposed feeling was about. He made me feel—alive. Desired. Grasping at my hips, Ryan spun me and nudged my body onto the sofa that flanked the corner. The leather whined, cradling my weight.
    I stole a peek over my shoulder just as his pants dropped, and my mouth dried at the sight of his long, hard dick. Arousal was thick in the air around me, and it flooded any ounce of rational thought that might have been left.
    His fingers dove into my hair, and he jerked my head back so I could look up at him. The tight pull was deliciously rough, and my sex tightened with the act. His mouth moved over mine. His scent was fresh and clean, as though he’d just stepped out of the shower. Even his smell was similar to Drew’s
    From behind me, his thick erection cradled into my backside and he ran the head of it along the length of my sex. He tugged away my panties and with a palm between my shoulders pushed me onto my hands, bent over on all fours, exposed. Adrenaline swelled, and my pulse jumped into my throat.
    He caressed a path down my back with careful fingers and then curled one inside of me. Moisture gathered along my lips, my skin all too sensitive. Each touch flared my heated flesh. There was a shuffle from behind me, and his other hand trailed along my ass. I arced into his touch, nipples pressing into the cool leather couch with tortuous friction.
    The hand on my ass slid up my torso and palmed my breast, flicking and teasing the nipple. The fact that the actions were so focused on me—attending to my desires and my bodily needs—was an odd sensation here at the strip club. Most men don’t pay $450 to do the majority of the work. I closed my eyes and relished the pleasure.
    I was lost in a swirl of lust as his fingers nimbly tweaked and twisted my clit and nipple. His finger filled me, stretched me, before he withdrew entirely. I cried out, frustrated, my skin flaring impossibly hot.
    Tension swirled through me and I was lost in sensation. A deep inhalation came from between my legs, and I realized he’d dropped to his knees, his nose buried deep in my cunt. With a flick of his tongue, he claimed my pussy with his mouth, suckling and nibbling me to the very brink of orgasm. A trembling tightness tugged inside of me, my lips swollen and throbbing. Fisting the leather in my hands, my body clenched in result—just as he pulled back, blowing cool air on my sex instead. The orgasm faded, leaving me a panting mess in its wake. As my breathing returned to normal, his tongue darted out again, running along my entire length.
    He repeated this technique twice more—pushing me to the edge of climax before stopping. If women could have blue balls, mine would have been turquoise. On the third time, I darted a hand to his head, twining my fingers through his hair and squeezing his face into me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I rasped through ragged breath.
    His low rumble of laughter vibrated through the air and tingled a path into my sex. He nipped my clit, sliding away from my grasp. He was purposefully denying me, teasing me—torturing me. I both hated and loved him for it.
    His shaft pressed between my thighs and his hands gripped my hips, squeezing the flesh. His cock stroked my wet heat without yet entering, and my arms trembled, still bearing the weight of my body on all fours. “Please . . . oh, Hell, Ryan . . .”
    â€œTake it easy.” He chuckled. From between my legs, I could see his fist clenched around his shaft, directing it between my swollen flesh.
    He plunged deep inside of me, not giving my body the time to adjust to his