“Don’t hold back,” Bella panted. She didn’t even realize she was going to say anything at all until the words were out. Rhett went rigid above her, but before he could do anything, she gripped his ass, digging her fingers into his skin and all that tight, glorious muscle. She shouldn’t have thought about how it was possible to have such a tight ass, but she did.
And then his hips moved under the force of her fingers and he pushed inside of her, stretching her, filling her with a single hard thrust, and all coherent thought, including thoughts about his ass, was virtually impossible.
Bella’s eyes slammed shut and her breath refused to do even the most basic in and out thing with her lungs. All she could think about was how damn good it felt to have Rhett inside of her.
“You’re so ridiculously tight,” Rhett groaned. “Do you do those crotch exercises all day or something?”
Bella felt herself clench around him as if her va-jay liked proving the point. Her hips started to pump harder, in time with Rhett’s, as he thrust in and out, filling her harder, faster, over and over again. And god, did he fill her. She’d never felt anything like what he was doing and as far as she knew, he wasn’t doing anything overly different. It was just that with him and his massive dong, even the missionary position felt like something wild and taboo. Not just vanilla, it was rocky road with bananas, chocolate chips, sprinkles, and butterscotch topping.
There weren’t any words or comparisons or bad ice cream metaphors to properly describe what Rhett was doing. He was thrusting. Hard. Losing himself. She was losing herself. It felt like one of those beams of sunlight slanting down, angels singing kind of moments.
The pressure built, harder and faster, with Rhett’s thrusts. The noises in the room were hot. Sex noises, their bodies slamming together, Rhett’s hot heavy breaths and groans of pleasure, her little pants and whimpers and more feminine style groans.
Right before everything went dark and tilted out of control, Bella realized it was the first time in her entire life that she’d ever felt truly connected to another person. Truly… safe. Altogether… right.
Rhett slammed into her one last time and it must have hit something like her G-spot or something associated with it, because her world imploded. Everything shattered and the lights turned off. Game fucking over.
The climax that ripped through Bella was white-hot. Raging like a wildfire, it ate up her limbs and turned her inside out. She shuddered and panted and tried to breathe through the most intense pleasure she’d ever felt in her lifetime. She’d never felt a climax like that before, where every tremor was stronger than the last, where it literally felt like her bones were melting. Her lady bits did a crazy clamping, unclamping, vice-like motion and Rhett thrust harder and harder, going a little wild himself, setting off another series of mini and not so mini explosions, before he did his own version of the shuddery dance and hit more places Bella didn’t know she had and half collapsed on top of her, all the while breathing like he was going into cardiac arrest.
God, it was wonderful.
Every. Single. Second.
She’d always thought guys coming was kind of… well… not so pretty. She’d learned a long time ago not to look at anyone’s face while they were in the throes of passion, because that shit was uncontrolled and scary, but not Rhett. She hadn’t watched his O-face, but it was probably beautiful. Like the rest of him. There was nothing gross or weird or unattractive about what he’d just done. To her. With her. For her. For him. Together. Not one thing.
That was also a first.
When he rolled away and tugged her into his arms, Bella went. Which she never did. She didn’t like to be held after sex. Sex was just sex for her. It wasn’t cuddling. Most of the time it was just scratching an itch and the whole aftermath thing only involved rolling away, grabbing up clothes and muttering excuses to get the hell out of there.
Rhett’s arms were solid and warm, just like the rest of him. Even caged in them, Bella didn’t feel panicked or trapped. She didn’t feel claustrophobic.
She sure as hell didn’t feel closure.
When Rhett began to stroke her hair gently, massaging her scalp with his fingertips in a motion that could have been absentminded, but she knew wasn’t, she was done. Just… done.
“I- did that feel like closure for you?” Rhett asked breathlessly.
Bella knew she could have lied. The words were right there on the tip of her tongue. She could have told him that it didn’t feel at all like her ovaries had just exploded or that she’d been ruined for any other guy because no guy on earth had a dick like that and could use it like Rhett just had, but it was more than that. It was… it was scarily more than that.