How to Tame a Cat (ManxMan)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Welcome Home

I lift my head to watch as he sucks on the hollow of my navel, sucking in a breath when he meets and holds my gaze while continuing to play with my belly. One of his hands is playing with my waistband, but makes no move to take it off. Since I am not really in the mood to beg again, I wiggle around until I manage to free my hand, which is a lot easier in this position. Successful, I grab his shoulder and pull him back up so that our mouths are together again.

Now with him in reach, I fumble with the zipper of his jeans and slip a couple of fingers inside to slide over his hard-on behind the underwear. A shiver going down his spine forces the kiss to stop for a moment as he focuses on the feeling of my fingers in his jeans. It seems to do the trick, because he is suddenly shoving my pants and underwear down and pulling them off. They disappear over the edge of the bed.

I hiss when one of his warm hands finds my hard dick and starts palming it while the other comes between the sheets and my ass, gripping one cheek, but going no further. His tongue dips into the shallow indent at the base of my throat before he starts sucking on my Adam's apple, eliciting another moan from me. My fingers, which were freed of his pants when he started taking mine off, make quick work of the button on his jeans, making it possible for me to fit my entire hand into his pants now.

I shouldn't be the only one enjoying-

Ryland growls at me as he pulls my hand from his pants. "Not now," he rumbles. Nevertheless, he proceeds to take his jeans and shirt off, leaving only his underwear while I am completely naked.

A hand starts to slide between my ass cheeks when Ryland pauses and pulls away completely. Before I can stop the sound, a small whine leaves my throat when Ryland moves away. "What are you doing?" I demand, wondering if he just got cold feet. Because, if anyone should be getting cold feet, it is me, not him.

"Lubricant," he answers, already rummaging through the bedside table's drawers. I hear a lot of rattling objects, but remain in my position on my back, glaring at the ceiling. Suddenly, the drawer slams shut. "Merda."

Without explaining what is wrong, Ryland leaves the bed. I tilt my head a little so I can follow his movements as he crouches down at the foot of the bed to look for something over the drop-off. I should be angry that he left me lying here, but his ass looks too good in those perfectly-sized briefs. I roll onto my side, ignoring the pain caused by pressing my injury into the fabric, to get a better view of him as he bends over to grab something on the shelves next to the stairs.

Once Ryland straightens up with something gripped tightly in his hand, he pauses when he catches me watching him. His eyebrows rise, but otherwise he does not look all that surprised, which makes me wonder if he was intentionally giving me a view. For the third time tonight, I find myself unable to care as much as I should.

Ryland sits down at my feet and I can clearly see the object he retrieved now – the bottle of lube he was looking for. Determined to get this over with, I meet his gaze and nod, figuring that is what he is waiting for. It is the only confirmation he needs before he makes me roll onto my back again and scooting a little closer so he is between my spread legs.

"Tell me if it starts hurting," he says, popping the cap and squirting the lubricant on his fingers. While I am a little disappointed that he is not paying attention to my aching hard-on, it is probably a good idea, since I am already pretty close. It would be pretty embarrassing if I got off before he even got a finger in.

He only circles my entrance a couple of times before he slides most of his finger in. It has been less than a day since the last time he did this, making it a little easier to adjust, but it is still the most awkward feeling ever and I wiggle around a little while he moves his finger before he pulls out temporarily to add a second one.