Page 72 of Kane

I love him.

“My record is also spotless. I am meticulous about keeping up with such things.”

It’s the truth. I haven’t had sex with a lot of people, but enough to know I have made mistakes once or twice, and didn’t want there to be any surprises.

“Do you have condoms?” I ask.

Ryder nods. “I do, yes.”

There’s a heated pause before he nods and says, “Okay then.” He clears his throat. The sight is somewhat adorable, but also strangely arousing.

He looks at me from underneath his lashes, his cheeks scarlet again.

“You are so beautiful when you do that,” I say, kissing the flesh of his cheek. He moans.

“Do what?”

“When the blood rushes to your cheeks.”

“It’s not just rushing to my cheeks,” he says, and I have to refrain from laughing.

And then I feel his hand on mine, and a moment later I feel his heavy erection against my palm.

“Yes, we will have to tend to that, soon enough won’t we?”

Ryder moans as I gently cup his erection and squeeze.

Ryder leads me back into his bedroom, kissing me and pulling at my shirt as we go.

“Prepare your rope and undress yourself,” I tell him, removing my shirt for him. I don’t miss the way his gaze roves over my chest, my arms, and a flood of panic hits me.

Because I realize he’s looking at me in a way no one has in years.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, unbuckling his belt.

I focus on doing the same, getting down to my underwear, at least for the moment. I need to take my time. For the both of us.

I watch as he hurriedly undresses himself and then digs into his bedside table. I look around, his room oddly familiar in a way I can’t describe. I have the strangest sense of deja vu.

Ryder presents me with bright purple nylon rope, his eyes full of hope and excitement. My gaze drifts to his cock, taking in the sight of him.

I’ve thought about it many times, but nothing compares to the real thing. His cock bounces back and forth, gleaming in the bedroom night

“Get on the bed. On your knees. Hands behind your back.”

He doesn’t waste a second, nearly jumping onto the bed.

The sight is hotter than it should be—Ryder on his knees, precum dripping from his swollen pink cockhead onto the dark blue comforter beneath him as he places his hands behind his back.

“You are so fucking perfect,” I growl as I walk over to the bed with the rope. Ryder looks up at me, and I know nothing will ever be the same. Because no one has ever looked at me like this; like I am everything they’ve ever wanted.

And I fear no one will ever look at me like this again.

Because I don’t want anyone else.

I will never want anyone else, not after tonight.

I take my time, tracing his skin with my fingertips, warming him up to my touch. He needs to know he can trust it. His body knows this, but he needs to know it, too.