“Ryder.” I chuckled. “I’m not even in the mood for—omigod.”
Without warning, my husband’s lips fastened on my clit, and he suckled on it until spasms of pleasure fluttered to life. I pressed my head back into the mattress and thrust my pelvis into Ryder’s face, causing him to groan against me. He hooked his arms around my thighs and kept my arse on the bed as he feasted on me.
“Ryder,” I moaned. “Circles, baby. Move your tongue in—Holy Christ!”
He rotated his tongue in lazy circles, and the sweet torture sent chills through my body. I badly wanted to reach down and fist his hair in my hands. Even though my bump wasn’t big, I didn’t want to have to bend forward to do it, so I settled on gripping the bed sheets for dear life. My moans became audible and so did my breathing. My chest began to hurt as I sucked air into my lungs. It wasn’t an agonising pain; it felt more like a stitch, but it was enough to take centre stage over my pleasure.
“Ryder.” I winced. “Stop.”
Almost instantly, Ryder was sitting up, resting back on his heels with his hands on my bent knees.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I whimpered. “I’ve a stitch in me side. It hurts.”
He quickly got up from the bed and helped me to sit upright then fully stand up off the bed. I closed my eyes and took slow, deep breaths while holding onto Ryder’s biceps, and then, out of nowhere, when the pain subsided, I began to cry.
“Bran?” Ryder said, alarmed.
“I’m the worst... partner... ever,” I sobbed. “I can’t even do se-sex good an-anymore.”
I thought I heard him chuckle as he folded his arms around my body and kissed the crown of my head. He held me, naked as a baby, and swayed me side to side until my sobs became sniffles and my sniffles became sighs.
“I love you,” I said to him, “but you have to be gettin’ sick of this. Because I am.”
“I’ll never get sick of you.”
I sat back on our bed while Ryder got dressed. I watched as he pulled on his boxer briefs, his socks, and then his grey trousers—that he insisted I called ‘sweats’. But I just couldn’t call them anything other than what they were—trousers.
“This should be your outfit every day,” I said, eyeing his body up with nothing but love, admiration and a hell of a lot of lust.
Ryder looked at me and saw me checking him out. His lips twitched, humour tracing his features.
“I’m not fully dressed yet,” he commented.
I locked my eyes on his torso.
“I’m very happy with you bein’ topless.”
Ryder laughed as he pulled on a plain white t-shirt.
“If we lived in Hawaii, I would, but we live in Ireland... and it’s winter.”
I smiled. “God loves a trier, and I had to try.”
My husband smiled, shaking his head before he rounded the bed and held his hand out to me.
“Let’s go get you fed, and then we can go for a walk.”
I saluted. “Yes, sir.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Say that again.”
His voice was husky, and his eyes were hooded.
I grinned and shook my head. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Your body is on my mind, and that is the furthest thing from the gutter.”
I took his extended hand. “Charmer.”
“If being honest makes me charming, then so be it,” Ryder teased.
We ventured off into the kitchen, and after forty minutes, both of our hungers were sated. We spent a further ten minutes arguing about my outfit choice. I aimed for comfort; Ryder aimed for temperature and weather-appropriate attire. He won by a landslide, simply because I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. When we both were suited and booted, we headed outside to the well-marked trail facing the cabin.
The trees over our heads folded over one another and almost formed a tunnel of sorts, making the path we were walking down hand in hand shaded and murky. It was beautiful and made it feel like we were going on a secret adventure. I had a little spring to my step with this thought, and my husband was quick to put me in line.
“Watch your step,” Ryder said, his hold tightening on me.
I did as asked, and made sure I placed my feet on solid ground and not slippery leaves. It was a little difficult since the leaves were everywhere. They were every shade of orange and red imaginable, but even their allure could not hide the fact that they were slippery little death traps. When I was sure of my footing, I lifted my head and looked at the natural beauty that surrounded me.
“It’s so beautiful here.”
Ryder squeezed my hand. “I agree... In fact, it’s so beautiful I want a picture of it.”
I stopped walking when he did, and shoved my hands into my pockets when he reached into his own for his phone. I raised my brows when he started to back up. I made a move to walk with him, but he held up his hands.