Hope people are heeding the M rating, as this and other chapters contain some smut. Don't know how many chapters left, exactly...but again, the patience is appreciated. Again, please heed the M rating for this story. It is not all smut, but there is sexual content meant for grown folks...and R/N and E/C.
Pliant
Fourteen
"Uncle Ryan, where's Natalia?"
That was the first question Billy had asked him when he came to stay over for the weekend. A couple of days after the argument he and Natalia had, she came over with her sisters to drop his things off and to pack up hers. They didn't speak, just spared a few passing glances as she and her sisters packed up her clothes, books, and other items. Anya had been quite sad during the task, and Christina only gently patted Ryan's shoulder, assuring him that there's a hope that they'll work it out before they all left, just like that.
When Billy came over to stay last weekend, he clearly noticed how empty it'd become, the lack of that feminine smell that was there before and the absence of that softer touch that Natalia had added to the place. It was then that Ryan realized how much just seeing her belongings meant to him. Even when she didn't come over, those rare nights they spent apart, just seeing the book she brought over from a few nights before, or a pair of her heels in front of the door, or the faint, lingering smell of her perfume in the air was comforting. Now he had nothing but the vacant spaces she left behind to remind him of just how badly he'd managed to ruin his chances of a life with Natalia.
Valentine's Day came and went, and now here he is.
It all ended just as quickly as it'd began.
At work, they are civil, professional, they both automatically knew that. No matter what's happened, they still have respect for one another. He still loves Natalia deeply, and he supposes that maybe this is what they need, to slow it all down. He hopes that this isn't permanent, that they will have the opportunity to talk through this and give them a second chance. It hurts him every time he comes into contact with Natalia at work, every time he thinks about her. He's never wanted and loved any woman in his life as much as he does Natalia; he let that be the motivation he needed to propose to her on that Christmas morning. He was hesitant about it, though, thinking that perhaps it would be too soon after they'd just admitted feelings of love to each other, but the impulsive part of him was already ahead of him. Before he knew it, he was buying Natalia a ring that definitely set him back, but he didn't care. She deserved a beautiful ring, and he gave that to her.
All he could think was that he couldn't even think of going any further without the prospect of making her his wife. For once, he'd thought then, I did something productive with my impulsive side. He didn't want to think, didn't want to wait a year or more to propose to her. He was ready, together they seemed ready. Or maybe it was just him.
He doesn't know now, doesn't care to know because it doesn't matter.
Ryan walks into the garage, pulling on his lab coat.
"Hey Jesse."
Jesse looks up.
"Hey. Well, this is the car from the robbery. It's already a piece of shit, I don't know what H wants us to look for."
"H thinks that there might be another casing," Ryan says, snapping on a pair of gloves. "So I guess we've got to turn this piece of shit into...several pieces."
Jesse sighs. "You saw, I'll separate."
Ryan nods as he picks up the saw.
"So uh...I'm sorry, man."
"About what?" Ryan asks.
"You and Natalia," Jesse says.
"I don't want to talk about that," Ryan says. "Let's just...get to this."
Jesse nods.
O-o-O
Natalia walks around to the back patio of her parents' home in Loma Vista, an old, predominately Spanish neighborhood. Her father worked hard enough to earn quite a modest retirement, and now he and her mother travel often, and visit their grandbabies. Natalia is proud of her father, and she likes to think that she got her business sense and work ethic from him. It is in striking opposition to how Natalia and her sisters grew up though. With Lydia being a home maker, she spoiled her daughters.
For herself, Natalia recalls never having to lift a finger at home, and that is where her lax cleaning habits hail from. Her father bought her whatever she wanted, whether it be riding lessons, new outfits, or a car...Christina was spoiled, but in a different way. She was always an overachiever and expected some reward for her hard work, and Anya was just naturally spoiled rotten, as she was the baby. Still, she and her sisters all have their own lives and are productive and never ask their parents for a dime.
"My beauty," Raul says as he stands up and comes over to his daughter.
"Hi Papa," she says, hugging her father tightly.
They pull away, and Raul gestures over to the table.
Natalia sits down, pushing her hair behind her ears.
"Where's Mommy?"
"She had some errands to run," Raul says. "But she made your favorite coffee cakes."
He opens up the container and Natalia smiles, taking one and biting into it.
"How have you been?" Raul asks. "I have not spoken with you in a few weeks."
"I'm okay, Papa," she grins. "Just...working, trying to get my mind off of everything."
"And Ryan?"
She shrugs. "We haven't really talked."
Raul sips at his coffee before he sits back into the patio chair, lacing his fingers together as he rests his elbows onto the arms of the chair. He looks pensive now, and Natalia braces herself for a lecture. Unlike Eric's father, who really is a man of few words, her father is a man of many words.
"My beauty," he begins. "When I first met Ryan, I liked him."
She raises her eyebrows. "Daddy, you stared a hole through his head during dinner."
"He was nervous," Raul recalls. "He was trying to impress me for you. The way he looked at you, the way he held your hand, and the way you smiled at him...I knew that you were happy, happier than I've seen you in a long time. Since..."
He pauses, and Natalia knows what he's about to say.
"Nick?"
Her father visibly tenses at just the mention of Nick.
"Yes. Since he died, you have not been as open as you used to. Not with your sister, not with your mother and I. It was bad enough what Nick put you through-"
"Papa, please don't bring it all up," Natalia whines. "Please..."
"Natalia, I am only saying this because it needs to be said," Raul insists. "Nick was a horrible man, God rest his soul. After the divorce, you were all alone in that big house..."
Natalia closes her eyes and shakes her head.
"Papa-"
"Be quiet," he commands sternly, but gently, and she obeys. "Even when he went to prison after he hurt you the worst, you couldn't sleep for days, you could barely leave the house. You almost lost your job, the job that you love because you would nearly panic if you left. Your sisters watched you and stayed with you day and night for a week to get you to eat and to sleep..."
She wipes a tear that escapes, her heart pounding in her chest at the memories that she has tried so hard to push out of her mind forever.
"You lost twenty pounds," Raul continues. "You had to cut your hair because it was falling out from all the stress..."
"Papa, please stop," she cries
"The woman you became, she was not my daughter. Your mother and I were scared for you. we didn't think that you would ever be the same. I was proud when you finally got some help, but...you still changed."
"How did I change?"
"You've stopped trusting everyone. You hold everyone, even your family, at arms' length. When I call you 'My beauty,' instead of owning it, you-you downcast your eyes, as if you don't believe it's true. You always look so ashamed. I don't see that light you used to have when I called you that. Do you remember why I call you that?"
She sniffles, smiling a bit. "You still remember that? From when I was seven?"
Raul laughs. "Yes, you were seven. You were playing in your Mama's makeup, you had on her favorite dress, and a pair of her shoes. I was watching you, but you did not see me. You were sitting so primly at the vanity, smiling, making faces. I came in and you started crying because you thought you would be in trouble..."
She smiles through tears. "You didn't get mad. You just picked me up and held me..." She keenly remembers the warmth she felt being wrapped up in her father's arms.
"And I wiped your tears, and you looked up at me and said that you just wanted to be beautiful for me like your mother always was when I got home. Then you asked me, 'Papa, am I beautiful?' and I said 'Of course...'"
"My beauty," father and daughter say in unison.
"What are you saying, Papa?"
"Even though Nicholas has been gone for three years, he took something away from you. You need to get it back, Natalia. No matter what you may have done, or what Ryan has done to cause you to separate, I know for sure that he is in love with you. I have never seen you more happy, more...sure about anything in a long time. It's the first time you've let anyone in for many years. Unfortunately, Ryan got too close, didn't he?"
She shakes her head. "Y-you don't know what he did, Papa. I had my reasons, okay? You don't know his past-"
"His past," Raul waves off. "Everyone has a past. You have a past. Every man has a past. In the early years of being with your mother, I did things that I am not proud of, but your Mama has never held those mistakes against me. We had too much to lose, and because I loved her, because I myself wanted to be a better man, a better husband and father, I changed. I changed because I didn't want to be the man I was. I knew I was better than that. Not every man is perfect, Natalia. You can't expect perfection in anyone. That is impossible. People can change-a man can change."
She crosses her arms over her chest.
"My beauty, you already know in your heart how you feel about Ryan," he says. "You also know who he is in your heart."
"What if I'm not so sure?" She asks.
Raul leans forward. "Weigh the good against the bad, and if one outweighs the other, then you have your answer."
Natalia tilts her head to the side, sighing as she takes another bite of her coffee cake.
"I shouldn't eat this when I'm depressed," she jokes.
Raul only chuckles, and leans back into his chair.
O-o-O
Ryan checks his phone when it buzzes in his jacket pocket for about the sixth time in an hour. He stops in the hallway on the way to trace, and he inspects the number. He sees that it is his mother that has been calling him. He calls her and she picks up.
"About time, boy," Joy huffs. "I've been callin' ya, leaving messages..."
"Ma, I'm at work," he explains, going to the break room. "I promise I'm not avoiding you."
"We need to talk, Ryan."
"I know," he sighs, sitting on the couch. He pinches the bridge of his nose before he starts. "I'm not mad at you for telling Natalia about me and Zoe...especially if she asked. I know that you're not one for lying, but...Ma, just this once..."
"I'm sorry, son," she apologizes sincerely. "I-I thought I was helping, like any other nosy, hopeful mother would."
Ryan called his mother soon after the argument he had with Natalia. He hadn't really been angry then, knowing that his mother didn't divulge that information out of spite or malice. She was being a mother, trying to protect both he and Natalia from what was coming, what has happened.
"Have you two at least been talking?"
"No," he says. "But Ma, it wasn't your fault. Please don't think that it was your fault."
"Well, you know I do," she sighs.
"Mom, what's wrong?" He asks, hearing the melancholy in her voice. "I know you didn't call six times for that."
There is a long pause, and Ryan sits up, now concerned. "Mom, what is it? Are you okay?"
"Ryan..."
"What?" He asks, almost impatiently. "Tell me."
"I called because it's about your father."
"Harry?"
"No, your father."
Ryan combs his fingers through his hair.
"What about him?" He asks indifferently.
Conversations about his father are few and far between, especially between he and his mother, because she has never said a cross word about him to he nor to Ever. The subject of Norman the Donor never really comes up because it only brings bad memories and anger to him. In many ways, he supposes he's kept his mother from ever really facing her own feelings about his father because he has always walked away, not wanting to hear her trying to defend him, or trying to show him and Ever that he wasn't all bad.
For Ryan, talking about his father will remind him too much of what he went through with Zoe.
"You need to see him."
He shakes his head. "Mom, I can't do that. I don't have any vacation time."
"I'm not askin' ya," she says firmly. "You don't have vacation time, find some."
"Why, Ma?"
"'Cause your father has been having some health problems," Joy explains. "He's real sick. He don't have good insurance, so...I've been paying a premium. Harry doesn't know."
"Mom-"
"I know what you're thinking," she interrupts. "But better me paying for his insurance than you or Ever. The doctors say that he has months, if that, left."
"You didn't even tell me he was sick."
"He didn't want me to. But he called yesterday, and he said he wanted to see you. Ever doesn't want anything to do with him, but...I wouldn't ask you if I didn't have a reason."
He hears her sniffle, and his heart immediately begins to clench and he caves.
"Mom," he sighs. "Ma...don't cry."
"I-I'm sorry," she says softly. "I'm sorry my boy, I really am, but...maybe you and your father will be able to make peace. Dyin' folk are always trying to make things right, you know?"
Ryan rubs a hand over his face.
"Alright, I-I'll think about it," he concedes. "I'll think about it and I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
"I love you, Ma."
"Love you too, Ryan. Bye."
"Bye."
He hangs up and puts his cell phone back into his inside jacket pocket.
He leans back against the couch, resting his head back. He stares up at the ceiling, thinking about the news and the command his mother has given him. He didn't even know his father was sick, didn't know that he was knocking on Death's door and now wants to make peace. He wants to make peace after how many years? How many years of missed child support payments? Now he wants to make peace, after spending his whole, miserable life beating the hell out of his wife and kids, being a crap father, and leaving?
Any of this ringing a bell? He thinks to himself. Look what you did to Zoe. Like father, like son.
Ryan shakes his head of that thought.
He nothing like his father, not anymore. His hatred for the man kept him going, kept him motivated to change his life and to treat women the way his mother raised him to. He is not his father, doesn't want to ever be like his father, not ever again. Those years ago, he was lost, and unsure of himself, but now he has a career, a life, and an understanding of how to live it with boundaries and how to resist those urges he gets every once in a while.
It is situations like this, the stress, the worry, the uncertainty that is his trigger. When he feels like he's climbing the walls, that is when he breaks and gives in and finds the nearest gambling ring or Casino he can find. It's a powerful urge, that is something that he doesn't think people-those who don't have the addiction-will never understand. It's not the money that drives gambling addicts, it's the compulsion, the need to do it. When the compulsion intensifies, it doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's about satisfying that urge, that craving for the thrill, the counting, the cheating, and the strategy. There's highs and lows, just like any other addiction. His mother understood because she'd had first hand experience with his father, but it pains him to realize that she had to watch her son also sink into that pit, taking Zoe with him. But even still, his mother didn't shun him, she didn't yell at him, only told him that he had to make it right.
He is proof that people do change, and for the better.
Ryan looks up when the door opens, and he sees that it is Natalia.
She steps inside then she stops just short of the couch, arms crossed over her chest.
"Hey," she offers him quietly.
"Hi," he responds.
She tilts her head to the side. "You look worried. What's going on?"
He sighs. "My mother just called me. My dad is terminally ill."
Her eyes widen as she drops her arms to the side and plops onto the couch next to him, shocked.
"Your step-dad, Harry?" She asks, her eyes beginning to glisten with moisture. "Oh God...h-how-"
"Not Harry," he explains. "My biological father, Norman."
The news is no better.
"God, Ry I'm sorry," she says softly. "H-how long?"
"My mom said he's got months," he says, leaning forward and resting his elbows onto his knees.
"How is Joy taking it?"
"She's sad," he shrugs. "Even after what my dad put her through, she still cares. Turns out she's been paying for insurance so that he can get the care he needs."
She puts her hand on his back and caresses gently, soothingly. "That's awful...do you think you might go see your father?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen my father since I was twelve, thirteen."
Natalia pushes her hair behind her ears.
"Well, he's dying, Ryan. That's no way for someone to die...alone, without seeing his kids. What about your sister?"
"She doesn't want to see him," he says, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face. "I feel like I don't really have a choice. My mother's paying for his insurance behind Harry's back...she shouldn't have to. He's been out of our lives for years, and now he expects us to do backflips for him because he's dying?"
She gently nibbles at her bottom lip, and before she can say anything else, Aaron walks into the break room.
"Hey."
They both wave, acknowledging that he is there.
"Listen, why don't we talk later?" She asks quietly.
Ryan looks at her, a slight grin on his face.
"We haven't really talked to each other in weeks," he says. "I'm sorry I put all that on you..."
"It's okay," she says. "Let's...just call me later, okay?"
He nods before Natalia gets up and heads out.
O-o-O
Natalia carries another box into the living room and sets it onto the floor. There are several boxes, and she sighs, sitting down and opening up one. She doesn't want to do this, but, after speaking with her father, she knows that she has to do it.
Ryan had been right.
She has been hanging on to Nick's things, and things from their marriage because she's still holding on to him. She didn't think that was ever possible, especially after what he put her through the last three years of their six year marriage. All she can see is the perverted glint in his eyes now, how he treated her like a piece of property, an object to be used and abused at will. When he got out of prison, he looked at her like she hadn't meant anything at all to him, not even during their marriage. His eyes changed, his demeanor changed, and he became a man that she feared, hated. She did want to kill him; how many fantasies did she entertain? She always thought about just doing it and putting him out of his fucking misery because he was a miserable person who was going to torture her for as long as she walked this goddamn earth.
As she thinks about it, all the anger and fury she'd felt toward him comes back in full force. She thinks about that day she hit his chest as hard as she could, forcing him back, away from her because he was nothing but a harbinger, an inchoate mass of terror swirling around him. She didn't want that life again, she didn't want to be dragged back into that indescribable hell. Yes, hell fucking yes, she wanted to kill him, but slowly-she wanted him to suffer the cruelty and indignity that he put her through. She wanted him to bleed, to scream, to fall, just as he'd made her do. She wanted him to feel the years of pent up pain and hate she'd built up for him, feel the sharp kick into his stomach like he'd done her...she wanted him to suffer. She wanted him to feel the warm grossness of spit on his face, the sound of her yells ringing in his ears...
The memories and the fantasy become so real, so vivid in her head, that Natalia gasps and backs away from the boxes, getting up and shaking her head, crying.
"I can't do this," she cries to herself. "I-I can't do this..."
She is not ready, the memories are too strong, too painful, and she can't do it feeling like this.
She misses Ryan now; she is suddenly craving his touch, his strong arms around her, his soft kisses to her cheek...his love.
She goes and sits down on the couch, feeling confused and scared.
If he decided to go see his father, stay up there until he dies, will he come back?
How does she know that Ryan won't decide to stay up north with his family? She knows how much he loves and cares for Ever and Joy. Being the only son and firstborn son, he naturally protects his mother and sister. That's just who he is. He is protective over Calleigh, he is protective over her...all of this in stark contrast to how he treated Zoe. She can't reconcile the two images she has of him in her head, yet her heart yearns for him, her heart is telling her that out of love, she will not fall. She could never because he is the man that she has always wanted to share her life with. She will be thirty-five in this month, and she has nothing to show for it. She wants to get married, have a family, have a life with Ryan, and she fears that they will never get the chance again.
Her phone rings, and she wipes her tears and gathers herself before answering.
"Hello?"
"Hey, 'Lia, it's me."
"Hey," she says, hoping that her voice sounds normal, not like she'd been crying. "You alright?"
"Yeah," he says. "Are you okay? You sound like you're upset."
She shakes her head. "No...it's nothing. So um, have you made a decision about your dad?"
"Yeah, but, can I come over?" He asks. "I want to talk to you in person."
She smiles a bit. "Sure."
"Okay, I'll be over in a little bit."
"Have you eaten yet?" She asks quickly. "Because I can make you some dinner..."
"How 'bout I pick up something?" He suggests.
"That sounds good," she agrees a little too enthusiastically. "I'll see you soon."
"Bye."
"Bye."
She hangs up and she gets up and she begins to move the boxes out of the way once again back to where they were.
She frowns when she takes in her attire: navy blue yoga pants, an old, oversized tee shirt with a few holes in it here and there, and hair pulled up into a sloppy bun like ponytail. She looks a mess, only because she'd been gearing up for an emotional evening of going through the boxes. She groans and begins to head back to her bedroom to change clothes, only the doorbell rings, and she furrows her eyebrows.
"Dammit!" She hisses.
She whips off her tee shirt and goes into her closet and grabs one of her casual shirts then she lets down her hair. The doorbell rings again.
She quickly runs her fingers through her hair before she goes out and heads to the front door.
Natalia opens it up when she sees that it is Ryan with the takeout, as promised.
She grins a bit, and he smiles.
"What took you so long?" He asks, coming in.
"Oh, I was just uh..." She shrugs as she closes the door. "Sitting."
What a pathetic excuse for a lie that was, and they both know it. He looks at her, the doubt about her answer written all over his face.
"I was..." She begins. "Changing."
That makes him raise an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes.
"I was in my night clothes," she explains, and he smirks. "The ugly ones."
O-o-O
After eating dinner, they both sit on the couch with cups of coffee.
Natalia sighs, tucking her feet under her and resting her head onto her fist.
"So...your dad...h-he beat you too?"
Ryan nods slowly. "Yeah."
Natalia has a wonderful, loving father, and she can't imagine what a childhood marked by abuse must have felt like. It's bad enough for a man to beat his wife, but for a man to beat his own children...that is...just incomprehensible to her. What could a child, a child, possibly do to provoke such anger and violence? Children are innocent, and it hurts her deeply, so deeply to know that Ryan had been abused by his father as a child. The more he reveals to her, the more she begins to understand the setbacks he's had here in Miami with his gambling. He is filling in the gaps, creating a complete version of the events of his life. He inherited his father's predilection for gambling, his low impulse control, his anger...and he overcame that.
"No matter what that bastard did to her," he continues. "My mother still loved him, supported him. I can't tell you how many times she would take the abuse from him for me. I would always feel so guilty whenever I did something, and my mother would step in front of me..."
His jaw clenches at the memory, and Natalia feels tears gathering in her eyes.
"'Not my boy,' she always said," he recalls. "And I would get mad at her. I didn't want my father hitting my mother or my sister. Ever was so fragile already...and you've seen my mom. She's always been tiny, thin as a reed. I almost couldn't live with seeing my mother and sister getting hurt like that. So when I did the same thing to Zoe, I...I felt like a hypocrite, a failure. I went from protecting the women I love to hurting them. When I look back on it, I just...it's shameful, what I did, 'Lia. I couldn't tell you the truth because I never wanted you to know that that part of myself ever existed. It's hard enough for me to know that part of me did exist, but I couldn't stand it if you knew. Sure enough, you looked at me differently, and...I just hurt you anyway, so there was no point, really."
Natalia sets down her coffee and she sighs, taking his words in.
"I'm sorry," is all she can manage.
"Don't be," he says, putting his hand on her knee. "It all had to catch up to me at some point. But...that doesn't change how I feel about you. I love you so much, honey. I'm still in love with you, 'Lia. That'll never change."
She grins a bit. "I love you too..."
"But?" He asks.
She shakes her head and looks away. "I-I don't know, Ry. Y-you tell me all these things about you, your past, and the more I hear, the more everything I've known about you changes. I mean...it explains a lot, and I'm just trying to figure out who you are."
He chuckles bitterly as he gets up. "You know who I am."
"I beg to differ," she huffs. "There you go again acting like I'm the one that has the fucking problem. You know damn well that from minute one, you should've been honest with me about all this."
"And we would have gone nowhere," he sighs. "Look, I didn't come over here to invite another argument with you..."
She stands up and walks over to him, standing close.
"What did you come over here for, then?" She asks, her breath shaky from the sudden shot of need coursing through her.
He gently puts his hand on her arm.
"I thought I was sure about my decision about my dad," he begins. "But, I'm not sure...'Lia...you're confused, I'm confused."
Her eyes sting with tears, and one escapes quickly and he puts his hand on her cheek.
"I-I've been thinking about what you said," she sniffles. "And you're right. You're absolutely right...I am hanging on to Nick, and I don't know why. God, Ryan. You have no idea how-how confused, angry, and lost I've been. Nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing-"
He interrupts her with a soft kiss, and her body shakes a bit with the quickly rising level of need and want inside her. She feels his tongue gently licking over her lips, tentatively requesting access, and she parts her lips and as soon as his tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her for the first time in weeks, they both give up the fight, and let their weak, crumbling emotions get the better of them. Suppressed passion and lust come forth as they embrace each other.
She moans, and hearing her, feeling the vibration of it in his mouth just drives him fucking insane.
He pulls away, kissing along her jaw and over her neck, nipping and sucking at her favorite spot, and sure enough, she whimpers, and then purrs, melting against him as he licks and sucks and adds a little more pressure with his teeth. She is panting now, her thighs clenching so tight, it hurts; she feels the throbbing in her center, feels the wetness pooling already.
"God, Ryan," comes a moan mixed with a sob. "Please...oh, stop it...stop."
She tangles her fingers into his hair and brings him back up to her lips and she kisses him hard, frantic, nipping and sucking, teeth clashing as his hands caress down her lower back, over the curve of her ass and down the back of her thighs and back up again.
This woman has managed to make him hunger for her like never before, the stirring in his dick becoming more intense as he caresses over her body, kisses her hungrily, needfully, and the need to breathe is becoming a hinderance to their activity.
He pulls away, and she licks her lips, both of them panting, taking in as much oxygen as they can.
While they do this, Natalia grabs the hem of his tee shirt and quickly, urgently pulls it up, and he raises his arms and pulls it the rest of the way off and drops it to the floor. Her hands caress over his chest, familiarizing her hands to his skin again before she crosses her arms and grabs the hem of her shirt and peels it off quickly, dropping it on the floor so that it joins his on the floor.
The sight of her full, violet lace covered breasts makes his dick immediately turn to granite and he pulls her back to him, his lips capturing hers in a passionate, lustful kiss. He picks her up and she wraps her arms and legs around him and he carries her into the hallway and presses her up against the wall near her bedroom.
She moans as he grinds into her center through layers of fabric, but it doesn't fail to make her desire him more.
"Mm," she moans. "Ryan...bed..."
He carries her into her bedroom and he lies her onto the bed, and then he takes her pants off, along with her panties and slides them both down and off before he caresses his hands over her thighs, up over her abdomen and around her back and he unhooks her bra and she slips it off and tosses it over the side of the bed. She leans up and kisses him quickly before he pulls away and kneels before her, and she spreads her thighs for him. He grips her hips and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed, and she giggles a bit at the short ride. She sits up and she puts her hands on his cheeks, kissing him hotly, messily, before he pulls away and kisses his way down her neck, then he leaves hot, sucking kisses down over her breasts, sucking each nipple before he kisses over her abdomen, his warm hands caressing over her silky thighs.
Natalia finds her breathing deepening the closer Ryan gets to her scorching core. Her breathing quickens as she watches him descend upon her and when he gives her a gentle lick, she moans sultrily.
"Unh..."
He'd almost forgotten how sweet she tasted.
She leans back but a bit, planting one hand onto the bed, and the other tangles through his hair, watching him intently.
Another gentle lick, when she wants him to pleasure her more.
"Ryan...please..."
She need not say anything further.
He opens her folds and begins to ravage her center and she moans loudly, trying to keep her eyes on him as he swirls, licks, tastes, and sucks hungrily. She grips his hair, becoming dizzy with the consuming, intense inferno of pleasure. He sucks her clit and she gasps, panting as she finds herself rushing toward the brilliant end. She feels the coil of pleasure forming in her lower belly, drawing tighter, growing hotter as he moans against her, feeling the vibrations of it against her clit.
Her eyes roll back, and she takes her hand out of his hair and slides it up her moisture-dampened skin, over her abdomen up over her neck, over her face and into her hair as she feels him slide two fingers into her canal, fingering her as he sucks her clit again and she shudders as she now supports her weight on her elbow, head tilted back, moaning in amazing, passionate, ardor, her fingers gripping her own locks tightly.
"Ryan, Ryan, Ryan," she pants. "Oh God...I'm close..."
He adds a third finger and increases the motion, circling his tongue around her clit before he looks up at her. Her eyes are closed, her hair is tussled, and she is panting.
"Open your eyes," he whispers.
She opens her eyes, and he sucks her clit, circling his tongue around the tortured bit of flesh.
"Oh...oh," comes her shuddering moans. She hisses, then moans. "Mm..."
She gasps and arches up, tangling her fingers into his hair again.
"RYAN YES! OH!" She screams as she comes hard around his fingers. "OH!"
Her eyes close tightly, seeing stars and feeling breathless and lightheaded as her inner muscles spasm hard, making her arch and shudder and twitch.
Finally, ever so slowly, he brings her down, withdrawing his fingers one by one, before he gives her one last gentle lick as she collapses onto the bed, motionless, dizzy, and floating. It's been too many weeks since she's felt this good.
Ryan kisses his way up her body and she somehow manages to lift her arms so they can wrap around his neck as he kisses her softly.
He takes his jeans off and they get pushed to the floor. She rolls them over so that she is on top of him and she kisses him deeply, her tongue stroking his before she breaks the kiss and caresses her hands over his abdomen before she leans down and leaves hot kisses down, down until she reaches his erection. She strokes him and he groans, closing his eyes.
"'Lia..."
She leans down and takes him into her mouth, putting her hands on his chest, gently raking her fingernails over his flesh as she bobs, her tongue stroking him. She grips the base of him and she releases him, kissing his tip before she takes him back in again.
"Mm," she moans.
"'Lia," he moans, gently tangling his fingers into her hair.
He feels himself getting impossibly harder, and he closes his eyes.
"Natalia..." He strangles out. "I need you..."
She releases him and he rolls them over, engaging her in a soul-stirring, passionate kiss.
"Ryan," she pants against his lips. "Inside me...I want you inside me now..."
He complies with her request and he thrusts into her swiftly, easily, making her gasp and then moan.
He thrusts slowly, grunting at how amazing she feels, how wet and tight her first orgasm made her as she fits snugly around him. He punctuates each torturously slow thrust with a kiss, and she is gently pulling at his hips, gently arching hers into him, urging him deeper.
"Ryan, more," she requests.
He pulls almost completely out, and thrusts back in, steadily increasing the pace until they adopt a frenzied rhythm, their hips crashing against each other, bodies in frenetic motion, the friction mounting at their joining as their sexes meet over and over again.
"Yes, yes, yes," Natalia pants, bucking against him as she puts one hand on the pillar of his strong arm, and the other on his hip. "Yes..."
"'Lia, you feel so damn good," he growls as he grinds his hips into hers, gripping her hips. "Yeah...uh, yes..."
"I want you closer," she whispers, bringing her hands to his shoulders. "I need you closer."
She gently brings him down to her, and she kisses him deeply before their bodies mold together, her legs draping over the back of his thighs.
"God, 'Lia," he moans into her neck, feeling that familiar tingle at the base of his spine and that surge of electric pleasure spark and travel through every part of his body. "So tight..."
"Yes," she moans hotly against his mouth when he kisses her, her hand caressing his sweaty cheek and an arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Unh!"
He thrusts hard, jolting her body and hitting that delicate spot inside her that begins the tingle of prickly heat that spreads through her body. He does it again, and she gasps, hooking her arms under his. He does it again and again, over and over, a steady staccato rhythm closing his eyes tightly.
Her eyes are closed as well, her mouth agape as she gasps with each hard thrust, her body jolting, breasts bouncing, and he opens his eyes and catches sight of her. She is gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, head tilted back, with her hair tussled, strands of it plastered to her sweaty neck and forehead, her skin slipping smoothly against his, her exquisitely full, buxom breasts bouncing with his thrusts.
He feels her tightening around him, arching up as her fingernails dig into his flesh.
"Yes...unh...yes," she moans with each deliciously hard thrust.
He brings his hand down and he presses his thumb to her clit, flicking over it as thrusts.
She bites at her bottom lip, feeling all of the tingling pleasure into a searing epicenter, and with one, two, three more jolting thrusts, and one more press to her clit and she arches up, moaning as she rakes her nails down his sweaty back, the waves of pleasure rippling outward as she comes hard once more.
"Ryan!" She cries out her inner muscles out of control with spasms. "Oh! Ryan, yes!"
He thrusts into her canal, the spasms gripping him like a vice with each thrust.
One, two, three, four more hard thrusts, Ryan grunting with each one, and he comes into her.
"Ohh," he groans as he sinks onto her body. "'Lia..."
She kisses his cheek as she caresses over his sweaty back, reveling in his release, feeling the hot spurts of his fluids deep inside her.
The trembles and flutters seem to last for ages, and when their bodies finally relax, Ryan lifts his eyes to Natalia's, and she caresses over his cheek as she brings him into languid, loving kiss.
"I love you," he says against her lips.
"I love you too," she whispers, licking his lips before he kisses her fully.
He goes limp, and he rises up and gently withdraws, lying beside her on the bed, sweaty, fatigued, and sated. They both lie next to each other, motionlessly, too exhausted and euphoric for any kind of movement.
"I've missed you," she whispers, still catching her breath.
"I've missed you too," he says.
She turns onto her side and snuggles to him, kissing his chest, and he wraps his arms around her as sleep begins to take hold of them.