The locks of his hair have flopped over his face. He looks messy and delicious, and I think even a little bit self-conscious. I wonder what he wants me to say? What he’s trying to urge out of me?
I thought it was all dirty talk, but the way he’s watching me now as he rolls a condom over his steely length has me wondering if it’s something else.
“I want you on top of me,” I blurt out awkwardly as I sit up. My dirty talk needs work. His eyes narrow as he fists his cock, but I keep my gaze on his face as he advances on me, my heart thundering against my ribs. Like it wants to jump out of my body and give itself to this man.
Like it knows something I don’t.
With him finally hovering over me, I reach between us to grip his thick cock. And it is thick. “Jesus. I’m going to pay for this tomorrow, aren’t I?”
Rhett smirks. “If you’re not walking bow-legged tomorrow, I won’t have done my job tonight.”
Now he looks so playful, so delicious, so confident. His full attention is on me, and only me. He looks like the type of man I could easily get wrapped up in and be left standing with nothing but a broken heart at the end.
I swipe the head of his cock against my slick core, grinding on his tip, watching his eyes flutter shut.
He kisses me, a searing kiss that has my toes curling and my hips arching up to meet him. And then, he’s pushing into me—slow, and steady, and delicious—filling me up and giving my body the time it needs to adjust. I lift a leg and wrap it around his back, pulling him nearer. Wanting him closer.
“Fuck, Summer,” he growls against my lips. “Just fuck. How are you this fucking tight?”
My nails skate over his back as I let my hands roam in a way they never did while I massaged him. There is nothing remotely professional about the way I’m touching Rhett Eaton right now.
When he bottoms out, resting in the cradle of my hips, he groans. “Are you okay? Because I think this is about as long as I can handle being gentle.”
I nip at his chin. “I thought I told you to ruin me?”
He rears up above me, deadly serious and painfully handsome. “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”
He pulls all the way out before shoving himself back in. My body shakes and my head tips back. I feel every point of contact between us, every inch of skin, every hair. Even his gaze is heavy on me, like he’s pulling my soul up to my skin with the look in his eye alone.
He sets a slow but powerful rhythm, fucking me hard, watching my every movement, absorbing every noise.
On one hand, it’s borderline unnerving. On the other, I feel like a fucking goddess beneath Rhett Eaton. Like he can’t tear his eyes away from me, like he has all the time in the world, like he’ll never forget this.
Or get enough.
I know I never will.
My moans come at a higher pitch as he pushes my body taut, but he pulls out, drops to his knees, and feasts on me again.
The change in pressure, feel—the entire thing—it leaves my body reeling to catch up. A light sweat breaks out across my chest as he fucks me with his tongue like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.
“Rhett,” I gasp his name, completely lost to the sensation of him playing my body like an instrument he’s mastered.
“Yes, Princess? You going to tell me why you want this now?” He stands tall, gripping my ankles as he goes, folding me how he wants, which at this current juncture, has my feet up near his shoulders while he looms over me like some sort of wild god.
Then he’s lining himself up, sliding into me again. Going so deep. Filling me with every inch.
“I don’t know,” I pant, eyes lingering on the way his skin shimmers with perspiration.
“Try again.” He thrusts into me, setting a more punishing pace. His head tips back, highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. With every stroke, my moans grow louder, more frenzied—just like his movements. “I’ll keep you screaming all night until you tell me.”
Fuck, am I screaming?
Right when my nerve endings coil again, when I’m reaching for that spot that I so badly want to hit, he pulls out and drops to the floor. Leaving me empty and breathless.
“I’ll have you coming all night long, Summer. But not until you say it out loud. I want to hear it.” His fingers slowly—so slowly—rub my swollen clit. He pumps two fingers in, the sound of how wet I am for him enough to make me blush. But he just chuckles softly, deeply. “You want to fuck a bull rider, baby?”
His head drops and he laps at me again, tongue flat, his movements measured, dragging me back away from the edge.