Catching Bianca: A Dark Mafia Romance (Shadows of Obsession Book 4)
Catching Bianca: Chapter 20

The moment I wake up from my Ryder-filled dreams the next morning, soaking wet, I groan into the pillow.

Sex with Ryder was the most idiotic idea I’ve ever had.

The electric desire inside me demanded his touch and I caved. I asked. No, I demanded he fuck me.

And he delivered what I thought I needed. What I thought would cure me from walking around wet and needy.

I thought a hard fuck would be enough. That one orgasm on his cock was all I needed. That I’d move on with my life as soon as my legs stopped shaking.

Boy was I wrong.

Feeling him so close acted like the most addictive drug in the world. I knew as soon as he grabbed my wrists and spun me around that I was in trouble.

Instead of this inconvenient lust dissipating, I want Ryder that much more. I want his cock, his hands, and most of all, I want his lips.

He didn’t kiss me last night…

My mind compensated, filling my dreams with his kisses.

I flip onto my tummy and drown out another frustrated groan with the pillow.

Ryder made me come harder than I ever thought possible. I should be good for months, but here I am, slipping my fingers into my panties to circle my clit.

The walls in Ryder’s condo aren’t paper-thin. I couldn’t hear a thing once I closed the bedroom door behind me, not even the music playing in the living room.

Still, I don’t dare take any chances, sinking my teeth in my bottom lip, my face buried in the pillow. My touch has nothing on Ryder’s. It’s his fingers I crave, not mine, but we agreed we’d only allow ourselves one good fuck, so I’m left with my own questionable skills.

I close my eyes and imagine Ryder towering over me, caging me in, his warm breath on my cheek, that low voice demanding I beg for release. A minute later, I see stars.

The desired pleasure ripples across my nerve endings, nowhere near as potent as the orgasm Ryder coaxed out of me.

It’ll have to do.

With my makeup bag in hand, I exit the bedroom. As soon as I sneak past Ryder’s kitchen where he’s brewing coffee, shirtless, I’m back where I started… horny, needy, panties soaked, and head full of him.

Full of his kisses.

Maybe I wouldn’t be this frustrated if he’d kissed me last night. I’m dying to know what he tastes like. Whether his lips are as demanding and greedy as his cock.

He told me he’d push me away if I tried kissing him. He told me he doesn’t like me. Granted, he fucked me stupid, but not before highlighting that it’d only be once, so why the hell am I still daydreaming about him while brushing my teeth?

Why have I not slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt before leaving my bedroom?

Why am I wondering which of the six sexy dresses I packed I should wear for our ride home?

Because I want him. I want him to show me how he fucks. Last night he did what I wanted. Hard, fast. Is he always like that? What would his kisses on my neck feel like?

The mere warmth of his breath on my shoulder sent ripples of mind-blowing shudders down my spine. I bet one kiss would send me straight to the edge of an orgasm.

A knock on the bathroom door makes me jump. I accidentally shove the toothbrush down my throat, setting off my gag reflex, and my eyes water on cue.

“Just a minute,” I choke out around a mouthful of foam.

No more words are spoken. There’s a hard tug on the handle and the door swings wide open.

I spin around, coming face to face with Ryder.

He barges in, his hands replaceing my face, concern marring his features. His big body almost knocks me over when he pulls me into him. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.”

“Then what’s this?” Two wrinkles dent his forehead as he swipes a lone tear from under my left eye. “Tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you last night?”

“No!” The word flies past my foamy mouth, toothpaste splattering his black t-shirt. “Shit, sorry.” I wriggle out of his embrace and spin around to rinse my mouth before I ruin his t-shirt any further.

He’s still close, hovering, watching me in the mirror while my heart thuds. The worry etched into his expression pokes that neglected string in my body.

“You startled me when you knocked,” I say once I’m done. “I was brushing my teeth and the toothbrush went down my throat. I have the worst gag reflex ever. I wasn’t crying.”

His shoulders slump. Relief and something else, something darker, bleeds into his features. “Sorry I barged in like that.”

“It’s okay. What did you want?”

His gaze wanders down my body, the delicate fabric of my night dress not concealing how hard my nipples are. His nostrils flare at the sight, his pupils growing.

My heart picks up the rhythm. Does he… does he still want me? He said it would only be once, but now he’s here, two feet away, looking like he wants to eat me.

“To ask if you’re hungry or if you’re starting your day with coffee again.”

I am hungry, though not for food.

“Coffee’s fine, thank you.”

With one last intense look into my eyes, he spins around and leaves, the door falling shut with a click.

I slump against the vanity cabinet, every fiber of me vibrating with the loss of his proximity. I’m wet again. Every time I move, I feel the effects of last night.

I love how sore I am. I’ll feel him inside me for days.

“We’re leaving soon,” he says when I join him in the kitchen. “Hailey asked if I could bring you over for coffee before we get on the road. Is that okay?”

“Yes. Unless we’re in a rush?”

He shakes his head, eyes on a spot over my shoulder. I know what he’s looking at… the cupboard he fucked me against last night. The feral look crossing his face is a clear indication he’s reliving the moment.

“Should we talk about… it?” I ask, hiding behind my cup.

“No. Don’t make me regret it by making things awkward. You said it yourself, we’re adults. We fucked and now it’s over.”

I give him a curt nod, ignoring my stomach wringing itself out like a wet rag. Why did I agree to his one-time clause? What was I thinking? That one orgasm at his hands could ever be enough? That it’s a purely sexual attraction?

Yes. That’s exactly what I thought.

I never entertain feelings beyond lust.

I never date.

I never want more than sex.

Until now.

Just my luck that the one man I’d consider dating is the one man who doesn’t want me the same way.

Or any other.