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.
“No.” My hands find my breasts of their own accord, body aching for release.
He sucks my clit into his mouth, grazing his teeth along my pussy.
“Take a walk on the wild side with a cowboy rather than your fancy city boys?” he murmurs, the sight of his head between my legs burning itself into my memory.
“No!” My response is more forceful this time.
He sucks harder, and my legs fall open wider. How I went from never having done this to devoured by the king of eating pussy, I’ll never truly know. But I’m definitely not going to complain about it. Especially not when I’m finally barreling toward release, pushing myself down on him, fingers wantonly pinching my nipples.
But he pulls away.
I let out a frustrated growl and push up on my elbows. He gives me a devilish grin and quirk of a brow, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Tell me why you want it, Summer.” His voice is gruff, with a bite that wasn’t there before.
It.
It hits me that he talks about himself like a commodity. Maybe this isn’t a game for him at all. Maybe he really is trying to figure out why a girl like me would want a man like him.
I pin him with my eyes as I sit up on the edge of the bed and reach for him. “I don’t want it, Rhett. I want you.”
My hands run over him, gently searching, but he stays quiet. Watching me like he always does. “I’m tired of doing what I should and ignoring what I want. And what I want is you. Inside me. All around me. I want you with me. And I want to be the only one.”
Out loud, it sounds so insecure. But my heart can’t take being broken again. It can’t withstand a man like Rhett treating me like I’m nothing more than a roll in the hay. I don’t know what it all means, but I know I want him to understand this isn’t casual for me. I may not know what it is, but it’s not that.
He stares at me, as though he’s processing what I’ve just told him, before he leans back over me, cupping my skull in his big hands with so much tenderness that my chest aches.
“You’ve got me, Princess. Only you, I promise,” he husks, before kissing me. A consuming kiss. I taste myself on his lips and feel his beard on my cheeks. His hair drops around us, closing us into an intimate bubble, and I smile against his mouth because he’s all around me right now.