21
Rhett
Idrop the can of cream on the carpet right as the heavy door clicks shut behind us, and all bets are off. My entire body hums with need. For her.
Ruin me.
She’d told me to ruin her. The only thing I’m going to ruin her for is any other man. I’m going to give her a night she’ll never get over. A night that will keep her coming back for more.
I push her against the closed door, the brim of my hat on her head brushing against my face as I swoop in to taste her lips. But this time it’s not for show. This time it’s because she told me this is how she’d want to go out. Kissing me.
And fuck, a statement like that is a powerful drug.
I kiss her like my life depends on it, like hers does too. We latch onto each other, her arms curling around my neck while mine roam her body.
It’s a desperate sort of kiss, full of angst and longing. She seems rushed. Like she thinks this might end. Like there’s a time limit on this thing we’re doing.
I pull back just a little, cupping the base of her head, her hair silky beneath my hand, her breathing labored, her breath sweet like sugary cream, hands still feverishly tugging at me. “Stop rushing, Princess. We’ve got all night. Save your energy, you’re going to need it.”
“Fuck,” she whispers as she sucks in a sharp breath.
“Let me show you. I’m going to take my time with you,” I murmur before taking her lips slowly, swallowing the sweet little humming noise she makes, feeling her arms soften, hands tracing across my shoulders. Her nails drag and a shiver races down my spine.
I don’t know what this is between Summer and me, but I want to worship at her throne. I want to give her the best of everything. The best of me.
She slides her tongue against mine, and I taste the whipped cream I just made her swallow. Even with my eyes closed, I can see the way her throat worked, the way she swallowed it the way I told her to. It’s burned on the back of my eyelids.
Didn’t think my cock could get any harder than it already is, but it pushes painfully at the zipper of my jeans at the memory.
I slide my hand down the curve of her body. My thumb flicks at her nipple through the thin cotton shirt as I clear her breast, and she whines into my mouth, trying to rush the leisurely pace I’ve set.
“Greedy girl,” I growl as I pull back and press a kiss to the bottom line of her jaw.
I kiss just beside her mouth.
“Rhett.” My name on her lips. Fuck. It’s a prayer. It’s a plea. It’s my goddamn undoing.
I kiss her cheek.
“I thought I got off on hearing fans scream my name from the stands.”
I kiss her temple.
“But hearing you moan it?”
She tilts her head, giving me more access. Asking for more.
“Hearing you moan it is so much more satisfying.”
I kiss the spot just below her ear, and she squirms against me. She goes all breathy and moans my name again. “Rhett.”
“You like that?” I nip at her ear.
“It’s the beard. It feels so good. I...I’ve never had that before.” The girl who is usually so put together and well-spoken is a puddle, all because of my beard.
And I get off on it. I get off on being the first man to give her beard burn. Her neck isn’t safe tonight, neither are her inner thighs.
I chuckle and drag my teeth down the side of her throat, fueled by her moans. By her hips rocking toward me. By her fingers in the back of my hair.