Stepping closer so my knees bump up against the mattress, I grip behind her knees and spread her legs wide. As I do, her panties slide over, exposing one of her bare lips.
“Fuck, Summer. Fucking look at you.”
She whimpers, hands falling to her tits like she’s trying to cover them. But I catch her rolling her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, clearly trying to avoid answering my question.
“Tell me. Tell me why you want me.”
Her lips roll together, her panting audible.
“You want this?”
She nods.
“Talk to me, Summer. You want me to fill this tight little cunt?”
“Fuck,” the word whooshes out of her as her eyes widen in surprise. Such a proper little princess.
“Have I got your attention now?”
“You’ve always had my attention, Rhett.” Her confession comes out quiet and soft. Like a secret shared between lovers. And like a balm to my deepest wounds.
I groan and reach forward, running my thumb over the seam of her pussy, feeling her pulse and clench against me. Feeling how wet the lace there is already. Nudging the strip of fabric aside, I push a finger in and revel in her, smooth and slick. Drenched.
“You’re soaked, Summer. Is that mess all for me?”
I swear I can see her cheeks flush pink, more of a purple in the blue glow.
“Yes,” she says meekly, sounding almost embarrassed. And, well, that’s just not going to do.
She needs to know how wild this makes me.
“I love it,” I growl, dropping to one knee, slinging her leg over my shoulder and tugging her ass to the edge of the bed. When I pull the scrap of lace to the side, I feast my eyes on what I’d only felt before.
“All this for me.” I rub her pussy again, feeling her leg clamp down on my shoulder as her head shyly flips to one side. “What a fucking treat.”
She tries to press closed her free leg, and I slide one finger into her wet heat while tutting her. “Nah, nah, nah. Don’t get all shy now. Legs wide open for me, Princess.”
I slide one hand up the back of her thigh to open her as she breathes out a quiet, “Okay.”
Pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, making sure she feels the rasp of my beard, I ask, “Should I keep going?”
She takes a beat to respond. So, I wait, bestowing more kisses up her inner thigh, grinning when her hips buck. “I’ve never . . . well, this is new.”
I freeze for a moment, looking over her outline from where I’m kneeling. “New? Like no one has tasted this?” I rub her again, and my cock jumps when I realize she’s even wetter than before.
She shakes her head no.
Doctor Douche really is the fucking worst. But I don’t say that. Instead, I reach for the lace underwear and drag them down her legs. If this is going to be her first time riding a man’s face, it’s going to be good. And there aren’t going to be any fancy panties in the way.
When they clear her ankles, I resume my position. “That’s a crime, Summer. A terrible shame.” I slide a finger in and feel her contract around me as she gasps. “It seems I have some wrongs to right.” I pump in and out, raptly watching her pussy take my finger, and then two. “And I’m not even sad about it. Do you know why?”
“Why?” she replies quickly, voice all raspy and thick.
“Because if this were my last moment on earth, that’s how I’d want to go.” I thrust in hard now, watching her body shake with the force, hearing her curse. “Head between these pretty little thighs, your pussy on my tongue.”
I hold her wide open, drop my head, and get to work.
22
Summer
My eyes roll back in my head, and I see stars. Bright and shiny, almost blinding. I’ve heard good sex compares to an out-of-body experience, and I never quite understood that sentiment.
But with Rhett Eaton’s face between my legs, I do.
Both his muscled arms loop around my legs, and one hand splays across my stomach, holding me down. The other is wrapped tight around my thigh, and his fingers dig in so hard that I feel like he might leave bruises right next to the ones from the saddle pinching me a few days earlier.
His tongue.
His. Tongue.
His goddamn tongue.
He’s licking me, almost the way he did at the whipped cream on my breasts, reverently, but with just enough pressure. Just enough suction.
Just the right amount of teeth. He slides his tongue right into me, and when I try to squirm, his calloused hand pushes me harder into the too-soft mattress beneath my back. His beard is prickly and rough against my pussy. Grating on my inner thighs. Increasing my pleasure tenfold. Partly because of the actual sensation, and partly because, well, because it’s Rhett.