The Invitation by Adriana Locke

Georgia

The air shifts, growing hotter by the moment.

Ripley’s long-sleeved shirt is suddenly too warm against my skin. The cabin is too small. The look in Ripley’s eyes is so scorching, so electric that I might combust from it alone.

Now that I’m free from having to hate him, I want him so badly it hurts.

“You want kissed, huh?” he asks, as a bolt of lightning illuminates the cabin. “I don’t know …”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He acts like he’s weighing his options. “We’re just getting on the right track. After all these years, we might be able to be friends.”

“We might not, too. Choose carefully.”

The corner of his mouth tilts to the ceiling. “And, if I kiss you, that might screw it up.”

“And if you don’t, I might screw you up.”

He laughs, his face free of the usual stress lines that appear when he’s around me. If I ever thought he was handsome before, I was wrong because seeing him like this—like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders—is simply spectacular.

My thighs clench in a futile attempt to stop the aching between my legs.

“Well, I don’t want to be screwed up, do I?” he asks, stalking toward me.

“I hope not. You’ve come so far in such a short amount of time.”

The words are barely spoken before Ripley’s mouth finds mine.

His arm slips behind the small of my back, dragging me into his body. I throw my arms around his neck and palm the back of his head, pulling his face closer to mine, then I moan as I feel the hardness of his cock against my belly.

Wow.

The cabin spins as his tongue traces along my bottom lip. Shivers race down my spine as his free hand palms my ass. He parts my lips with his tongue before sweeping it across mine, sending shock waves through my entire body.

A decade’s worth of pent-up sexual tension hits a boiling point.

I need him.

Now.

“What do you want, Peaches?” He kisses across my jaw and down the side of my neck. “Tell me what you want.”

I tilt my head back and he places a kiss in the hollow of my throat.

“What do you think I want?” I ask, the sound raspy.

His chuckle vibrates against my cheek. “Knowing you? Probably carbs.”

“Asshole.” I laugh, pausing when he nips my bottom lip between his teeth. “Ah!”

He takes a step back, smiling mischievously.

I pant, my body pulsing from his touch … and craving more. Needing more. Dying for more.

“Are you stopping now?” I ask.

“Look, this has been one of the most unbelievable days of my life and I’m not about to ruin it by assuming I know what you want. You’re going to have to tell me.”

“What are my options?”

He licks his lips, grinning. “Option A: we get dressed and wait for the rain to stop.”

“Okay. Option B?”

“Option B is we get undressed and wait for the rain to stop.”

“Option B.”

“That’s an excellent choice. But that option has sub-options.”

I throw my hands up. “Can you just pick one that includes you inside me? That’s the one I want.”

He laughs, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, there you are. I wondered how long it would take.”

“Sadly, it took less time than it did for you to get me naked.” I grab the bottom of his shirt and rip it over my head, throwing it at him. “There. I did it for you.”

His gaze lazily drags down my body, taking in every inch not covered by my bra and panties.

“My God, Georgia. You are fucking stunning.”

My cheeks flush. “You’ve seen me in a bikini before. It’s not any different.”

His eyes find mine again. “It is different. I couldn’t touch you then.”

“Will you touch me now?”

He drops to his knees in front of me, and peers up at me through his thick lashes. His fingers loop the strip of fabric at my hips. Then he pulls them slowly down my legs, letting his knuckles drag against my skin behind them.

I force a swallow, stepping out of my panties, and he flicks them toward his backpack.

The sight of Ripley kneeling before me is almost more than I can handle. It’s something I never expected. I never dreamed this would happen, and I know I’ll wonder if it was real when I wake up in the morning … and every morning after that.

He grips my thighs, squeezing tightly until it borders on pain. He motions for me to spread them, so, I do.

Goose bumps dot my skin as his fingers drag up the insides of my legs, through the moisture coating them, until they reach the apex.

I gasp softly while my heart pounds so hard it’s the only thing I can hear.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he says, drawing a finger through my slit. I tremble at the touch. “You are so wet.”

“Well, you’ve been walking around here for the last half an hour with a hard cock. What do you expect?”

He grins. “Are you wanting my cock? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying—shit.” I bite my lip as he strums his thumb over my swollen clit. I buck my hips toward him. “Never mind. I don’t know what I was saying.”

He laughs, plunging his finger into me. “I never knew it was this easy to shut you up.”

“Now you know.” I moan as he adds another finger and strokes them in and out of me. “God, that feels good.”

“Take your bra off. Let me see your tits from this position.”

I whimper as his fingers twist before resuming their slow and steady pace.

I unhook my bra, letting the straps fall down my arms. Ripley’s gaze is pinned on my chest as he leisurely works my pussy. I’ve never felt so desired. It’s intoxicating.

It’s addicting.

His strokes grow faster and deeper, working me higher into a frenzy. I grind against his hand. My desperation for relief is nearly unbearable.

The front of my bra falls into my hands, letting my breasts hang free. A slow, shit-eating smile covers Ripley’s lips as he brings a hand to my chest.

“These are fucking perfect,” he says, palming one of the heavy globes.

I flex against him again.

“Do you want to come, Peaches?”

“Yes,” I hiss, straddling the edge of an orgasm.

He drops his hand to my hip … and his face to my mound.

“Oh, my God,” I mutter, my mind blowing into a million pieces. My hands fly into his hair, pulling him tighter to me, as I moan.

He fucks my pussy with his fingers relentlessly, and the sounds of my arousal rings through the air. He traces a figure eight against my clit and my breathing gets heavier. Harder. More desperate.

“Put your foot on that chair,” he says, before blowing against my clit and making me tremble.

I do as instructed—I’m in no position to argue—and as soon as my foot is in position and his tongue touches me, I scream in delight.

A hand on my breast. Two, maybe three, fingers inside me. His tongue licking back and forth over my sensitive nub.

The intensity is too much. The pressure almost painful. The sight of Ripley’s mouth on my pussy, his eyes trained on mine, is the icing on the cake.

“Don’t stop,” I warn him, my voice wobbling through the orgasm.

I pull his hair, drawing him into me, nearly smothering him—but I don’t care. He devours me like I’m his last meal on earth.

I ride out the climax on his face, milking it for every last shot of pleasure. My mind hosts a fireworks display that’s a burst of every color of the rainbow. My breasts bounce as I endure the heat of the moment and try not to shatter.

As my sounds lessen, and my shakes calm, Ripley slows and softens his touches.

I slump against the wall, my mind putting itself back together much faster than my body.

Holy shit. I just came on Ripley Brewer’s face.

He stands, a smile splitting his cheeks, and presses a long, hard kiss to my lips. I taste myself on his tongue and feel the lingering wetness from my body on his face. When he pulls back, he’s still grinning.

“That was worth the wait.” He winks at me, heading to his backpack.

My head spins. “That’s not all, right?”

“Why?” He grabs the shirt he wore today and wipes his face off. “Did you want something else?”

He can’t be serious. “Yeah. Your cock.”

He chuckles as he digs through his bag. “Oh, you’re going to get my cock, Peaches. But I need a condom first.”

“Tell me you have one.”

“I think I do.”

Is he freaking kidding me?

I sit on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Ripley watches me out of the corner of his eye, amused.

“If you don’t have a condom, you’re fucking me anyway,” I say. “I did a physical after I broke up with Donovan and I’m healthy.”

“I’m healthy too, but that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He rocks back on his heels and turns to me. “Do you really want to know?”

“I don’t know. Are you going to ruin this moment and tell me you have some fatal disease?”

His laugh is loud. “If I had a fatal disease, do you think we would’ve gotten this far? For fuck’s sake, Georgia.”

“Look, I need fucked, okay? I’m horny as hell. Help me, help you.”

He shakes his head. “Fine. The problem is that if I fuck you without a condom, I don’t trust myself not to pull out.”

“Why? Do you think I’ll be that tight and it’ll feel that good? Or do you have a breeding kink?”

I say it as a joke—to get an eye roll. To make him laugh. But that’s not what happens at all.

Ripley’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “There’s something remarkably hot about thinking about putting a baby inside you.”

I still, shocked by his admission. I’m more shocked that I’m not freaked out by it. I’m shocked even more that I agree. It is kind of hot.

“Condom,” I say emphatically, leaving no room for discussion. I can’t lose my mind completely in the sex haze. That would be a big regret later.

He retrieves a foil pack from his bag and stands. “I wasn’t going to do it without one anyway. No matter how much you begged.”

“We’re both lucky we don’t have to put that to the test.”

He grins, sheathing himself with the condom. “How do you want this?”

“Honestly? I want it fast and hard. I’m too amped to enjoy it slow. I’ll just run my mouth and we’ll both be mad.”

“At least you know yourself. Get on your hands and knees.”

I look around the room. “Where?”

He points at the coffee table. “It’s the perfect height.”

“Fine by me.”

I get situated with my ass in the air. The rough, wooden tabletop digs into my knees and palms while thunder rumbles through the dark sky outside.

A hand cracks against my ass, making me yelp. The sound isn’t fully formed before Ripley slides his swollen cock through my slit. I gasp, arching my back, unprepared to fully take him in.

“Do you still want it hard?” he asks through what I imagine is gritted teeth. “You’re so tight, Peaches.”

His fingertips trace my spine lightly, dancing in a straight line from the nape of my neck to the crack of my ass.

Being filled by him while feeling him caress me so sweetly awakens feelings in my chest that I can’t quite rectify. That I can’t name. That I’m afraid to even try to label.

“Fuck me, Ripley. Hard.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as he slides out and then slams into me. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Over and over, he gives me exactly what I asked for.

A fucking.

There’s no tenderness, no kindness—nothing to get sappy or tripped up about. He fucks me until my arms go weak and my legs threaten not to hold me up anymore. And just as I reach the point where I can’t hold back anymore, where I shout my pleasure into the air, he presses into me and moans my name.

I bite my lip as I’m flooded with an orgasm bigger and stronger than the first.

He grips my hips so hard that the skin burns beneath them, and then I feel him swell inside me. He grunts, his whole body shaking, as he loses himself alongside me.

My arms buckle. He scoops an arm under my stomach, and I think he presses a kiss to my shoulder. I close my eyes, relishing in the moment just in case I never experience it again.

He pulls out and then helps me to my feet. When I turn around, he’s removing the condom.

A blast of anxiety riddles me because I’m unsure what happens now. But when his gaze meets mine, and a soft smile graces his lips, my nerves melt away.

“Shower?” he asks.

I grin. “One at a time because that thing is tiny.”

“Thank God that’s the first time I’m hearing that today.”

I snort, shaking my head at the mischief on his face. And, suddenly, I think everything just might be okay.

Somehow.