Chapter 2: Basic Chemistry
At the top of the stairs, Ridge followed Rebecca into a quaint apartment. The front room felt homey, and Ridge momentarily entertained taking the opportunity to examine the vast array of books on the shelves. But before he could act on it, Rebecca pushed him into an overstuffed leather armchair, then deposited herself in his lap. Her fingers returned to the short hairs on his neck, and her mouth crashed into his as she straddled him in the light of a single desk lamp.
For a few moments there was only the sound of their kisses and their breathing, sometimes mingling with the sound of traffic moving on the street below. Eventually, Rebecca drew back and, while keeping an eye on him, reached behind herself and unzipped her dress. With a simple movement, it came off completely, and Ridge found himself with a frolicsome blonde completely naked on his lap but for a pair of heels that matched the dress now on the floor.
Rebecca somehow chewed on he lower lip as she smiled lopsidedly at him. She took his hand between hers and placed it on her sex. "Finish what you started, you evil selfish man," she whispered. Her hips moved against his fingers, as if providing an example of what she meant.
Ridge chuckled low, the sound rumbling in his chest, his palm cupping her possessively. “You’re not making this easy,” he murmured, his voice thick.
Rebecca’s smile turned wicked as she shifted her weight, guiding his fingers deeper. “Who said anything about easy?”
The single desk lamp cast long shadows across the walls, framing them in soft amber. Outside, the distant wail of a siren cut through the night, but neither paid it any mind. The air smelled of old books, warm skin, and the faintest trace of vanilla from a candle Ridge hadn’t noticed until now.
Rebecca’s breath hit his collarbone in quick, impatient bursts, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles against his palm. Her skin was impossibly soft, the heat of her pooling beneath his fingers as if she were molten wax, shaping herself to his touch.
Ridge exhaled through his nose, his thumb circling just once—slow, teasing—before pressing deeper. Rebecca gasped, her nails digging into the back of his neck hard enough to make him hiss. “Fuck—” she breathed, her voice breaking. Her thighs clenched around his waist, knees pressing into the arms of the chair as if she needed leverage to stay upright.
He smirked, low and rough. His fingers moved slow and deep, quickly finding her most sensitive spot and ensuring that it got ample attention. Rebecca's breathing change to gasps as she quivered at his ministrations. Ridge notice Rebecca's breast rise as her hardening nipples pulled them up. Rebecca's teeth nipped on his collarbone, and he breathed in her ear, "Fuck, they are magnificent. *You're* magnificent." Ridge's voice came out as a rough growl against her collarbone before he leaned in to pull a pert nipple into his mouth, sucking hungrily as his fingers never stilled between her legs. Rebecca's back arched sharply, a broken moan spilling from her lips as the dual sensations sent her spiraling.
She clutched at his hair, her thighs trembling where they bracketed his sides. "Ridge—fuck—" she gasped, her voice raw. Her hips stuttered in jerky movements, chasing the release only he could give her. The desk lamp flickered, shadows dancing wildly across the walls as her breath came in ragged bursts.
Her back arched further, pressing her breast deeper into Ridge’s mouth, her nipple hard and sensitive beneath his tongue. His free hand slid up her spine, fingers splaying wide as he dragged her closer, her skin slick with sweat.
Rebecca’s hips rolled erratically now, her movements desperate, her thighs trembling against his sides. “Give it to me,” she stuttered, her voice breaking. Her nails scraped down his back, sharp enough to sting but not enough to draw blood—just enough to make him groan against her skin.
Ridge pulled back just enough to murmur, “Take it!” before his fingers inside her curled just right, his thumb working in tight, relentless circles. Her hands pulled his mouth against her breast, and Rebecca’s breath hitched, her back bowing so sharply he thought she might shatter right there in his lap. Her thighs clamped around his waist, knees digging into the chair, her heels digging into the floor like anchors holding her to the storm.
“Oh—fuck—Ridge—” Her voice cracked, her free hand slamming against the back of the chair for leverage. The muscles in her thighs quivered, her whole body tensing like a bowstring pulled too tight. He felt the first flutter of her orgasm before it even fully formed, her inner walls clenching around his fingers in desperate little pulses.
He didn’t let up. Not for a second. Ridge watched as her body shattered, her mouth falling open in a silent scream, her back arching so sharply he thought she might crack her spine. But she held on—held on to him, to the chair, to the fraying thread of control that kept her from collapsing into a trembling, gasping mess.
Her nails raked down his back again, less controlled this time, more needy. "Fuck—*fuck*—" she gasped, her voice raw and broken. Her hips jerked uncontrollably, her clit grinding against his thumb as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body.
Ridge felt every tremor, every shuddering breath she took, heard every broken sound that spilled from her lips. He didn’t let up, didn’t stop—just kept driving her higher, pushing her past the point of coherence.
Her head fell forward, forehead resting against his, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Too much—fuck—too much," she stuttered, but her hips didn’t slow, her body still chasing the release he was determined to give her.
Rebecca's head tipped back with a broken moan, her fingers tangling in his hair so tightly it bordered on pain.
The desk lamp flickered again, the bulb dying a slow death, plunging them into near-darkness save for the neon glow bleeding through the blinds. Rebecca's breath came in sharp bursts, her body trembling violently as she rode out the waves crashing over her.
"You're evil," she panted, her nails raking down his back. "Absolutely evil."
Ridge chuckled darkly, his free hand sliding up to grip her throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to feel the pulse thrumming beneath his palm. "You like it," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
Rebecca's breath shuddered against his cheek as her body continued to convulse around his fingers. She made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob, her hips still jerking in uneven rhythm against his palm.
Ridge's hand on her throat held firm but gentle, his thumb resting just below her jaw where he could feel every erratic beat of her pulse. He worked his fingers inside her with deliberate precision, his wrist twisting just enough to make her gasp.
Rebecca's nails scraped down his back again, her breathing coming in sharp, staccato bursts. "Fuck—Ridge—stop—" she begged, but her hips rolled against him in direct contradiction. Then she just collapsed against him, head held up by his hand around her throat. Her entire body trembled at her pulse, and she whimpered as he withdrew his fingers. As he licked them clean again before her eyes, he released her neck. But she caught his hand and kissed each fingertip before sagging completely against him.
Ridge startled and tilted her head up. "Hey, Rebecca, are you okay?" She smiled languorously and nodded. "Never better. Give me a few minutes before we move on to the next round."
Ridge pulled her head against his shoulder and carded her hair as he softly kissed her forehead.
The single desk lamp flickered one last time before dying completely, leaving them in near darkness except for the faint neon glow from the street outside. Rebecca’s breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm, her body relaxed against his chest like a cat in a sunbeam.
“You’re full of surprises,” Ridge murmured, his voice still rough from exertion. His fingers traced idle patterns along her spine, feeling the warmth of her skin and the faintest sheen of sweat.
Rebecca let out a contented sigh, her lips brushing the hollow of his throat. “Only for people who deserve them.” She shifted slightly, her bare breasts pressing against his chest as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Unable to bear it any longer, Ridge slid his hands under her buttocks and stood. She wrapped her leg automatically around his waist before he followed reflections of the outside lights to what appeared to be a bedroom.
He lay her on the tousled sheets and pulled off his shoes, shirt, and pants before laying somewhere between beside and atop her. Then, starting at her shoulders, he began exploring her with his lips and tongue, moving inexorably and so terribly slowly downward.
He tasted the salt of her sweat on her collarbone, licked the faint freckles scattered over her chest, and finally drew her aching nipple into his mouth with a slow, deep pull. Rebecca gasped, her fingers tangling in the sheets as her hips lifted involuntarily off the mattress.
"You've got the patience of a saint," she breathed, her voice still thick with lingering pleasure.
Ridge chuckled darkly against her skin, his free hand sliding down to spread possessively over her stomach. "Or the obsession of a sinner who's found exactly what he wants," he countered, his lips trailing a path of fire down her torso.
His hands followed, mapping the dips and curves of her body with reverent precision. He paused at her waist, fingers flexing against the soft flesh there before continuing lower, tracing the delicate bones of her hips.
Rebecca arched into his touch, her breath hitching as his mouth found the sensitive skin just below her navel. She tasted like salt and something uniquely her - warm and citrusy with an undercurrent of something darker that he was determined to identify.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as he moved lower, but he took his time, exploring every inch of her. Rebecca writhed under his patient traverse of her body, seemingly without any hurry.
Her breath comes in sharp, shallow inhalations as Ridge's mouth moves down her torso, his hands mapping every curve and dip with slow reverence. She lets out a frustrated groan, her nails scraping against the sheets as her hips lift slightly off the mattress, seeking more of his touch.
Ridge smiles against her skin, the vibration of his amusement eliciting a shiver from her. He pauses at the apex of her thighs, his breath ghosting over her slick, swollen flesh. Rebecca's breath catches in her throat, her body tensing in anticipation.
"Ridge..." His name falls from her lips like a prayer, a plea. Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling gently in silent encouragement.
He exhales against her, warm breath making her shiver before he finally dips his head between her thighs. The first touch of his tongue is slow, deliberate—tracing a path from entrance to clit with torturous precision.
Rebecca’s back arches off the bed with a sharp gasp, her thighs trembling as they fall open wider to give him better access. The sheets beneath her twist in her clenched fists, knuckles whitening as her breath comes in ragged bursts. "Oh God—*oh fuck*—" she chokes out, her voice breaking.
Ridge groans in response, the vibration sending fresh waves of pleasure surging through her. Ridge pauses, then looks up at her hooded eyes. He murmurs, “You sure you want me to keep going?” His grin is playful.
When Rebecca doesn’t respond, he slides his hands under her thighs, lifting them to give him a better angle. Then he gives her slippery core a slow tonguing kiss.
Rebecca's head lifts off the pillow, neck arching as a desperate sound leaves her mouth. Ridge settles in, determined to savor this—her taste, her scent, the way she trembles under his touch. His tongue flicks over her clit, slow and deliberate, before tracing a path down to her entrance. He teases her, dipping just the tip inside before pulling back to drag his tongue up again, making her whimper.
Rebecca's hands fly to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as she grinds herself against his face. "Fuck—*fuck*—" she gasps, her voice raw and desperate.
Ridge places soft kisses on her folds and on her clit, but other kisses fall on the insides of her thighs. All the while, his fingers knead the backs of her thighs.
Giving up on forcing Ridge to give her what her body is pleading for, Rebecca works her fingernails into his shoulders like a kitten making biscuits. Her body trembles with barely contained desire as Ridge’s warm mouth plays over her most sensitive regions. Each slow wet kiss makes her both tremble and ache, her hips rising to meet his caress. Ridge just mmms softly and moves on to another sensitive place.
Rebecca growls hungrily and squeezes her hands on his shoulders, finding firm muscles flexing under her touch. "Ridge, what are you doing to me?" Ridge's response is a long wet kiss on her clit. Her mouth falls open and his eyes lock on hers as he begins a slow trek back up her body, mouth moving just as slowly, just as *warmly*until his mouth is even with hers. Rebecca's arms cross behind his neck as he kisses her mouth and slides over just a bit and then begins gravity's slow pull into her warm wet pussy. Rebecca's entire body arches against him . When he bottoms out and their hips are pressed together, she opens her eye with a hungry moan, finding his eyes studying her face, cataloging every shift.
Rebecca blinks and smiles lopsidedly at him. "Nope, that's not creepy at all." She squeezes his length buried inside her, pulsating around him.
"Stay just like this," she whispers, eyes locked onto his. "Don't move." Her hips begin rolling in slow, deliberate circles, testing how much they can take. "Fuck you're big inside me," she murmurs, her voice thick with need. She tries to lift herself off him slightly, but Ridge's hands slide to her hips and hold her firmly in place.
"Oh no you don't," he murmurs against her lips. "You wanted this, remember? You said to stay just like this." His hands tighten their grip, refusing to let her set the pace.
Rebecca's breath hitches as she feels the full length of him pressed against her deepest point.
She lets out a soft, needy whimper and tries again to lift herself, but Ridge's grip remains unyielding, his fingers digging just enough into her hips to let her know he's in control for now. The room dissolves around them, the only thing in focus the sharp, hungry look in his eyes and the overwhelming presence of Ridge himself.
"You're enjoying this way too much," she accuses, her voice a breathy whisper that betrays the truth in her statement. Her hips make another slow, torturous circle around him, her inner muscles clenching involuntarily as she tests the stretch, the fullness.
The effect sends a shudder through Ridge’s entire body, his grip on her hips tightening reflexively. Rebecca notices the way his jaw clenches, the way his breath hitches when she does it again, and she grins, slow and wicked.
“You like that, don’t you?” she teases, her voice a low purr that dances along the edge of mockery. “Being trapped like this, under me, just *taking* what you’re given.”
Ridge exhales through his nose, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of her hips. “See, I *know* the steps in this dance," he counters, his voice rough but steady. "I'm just gauging how talented my partner is. Will she blindly follow? Will she attempt to lead? Or will she magnifies my moves, elaborating on the dance itself?" His mouth briefly passes over hers. "I'm wagering on the last...".
Rebecca’s mouth falls open, halfway between a laugh and a gasp as his teeth graze her lower lip. The rawness of his words sends a thrill through her, making her ache in places that have little to do with the physical. Her hips roll once more, a deliberate torture, testing the boundaries of his control—because if he’s going to be a dominant bastard about it, she’ll be a greedy one right back.
She props herself up on one elbow, the other hand still tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to angle his mouth where she wants it. Her voice drops to a whisper, all pretense of teasing evaporated.
"I'll be whatever it takes to make your torment end most quickly," she breathes against his lips.