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.
“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.
After a cool down moment, my body heats again for him so easily. Like I have a switch, and he’s the only one who knows where it’s located.
We exchange no more words as he gently lies me back down, keeping our bodies close as he does, kissing me as we go, dragging his mouth—his beard—until I’m a squirming, whimpering mess beneath him. His face hovers over mine, his elbows drop onto the bed beside my head, and he stares into my eyes.
Always staring. Like if he blinks, I might disappear.
The pad of his thumb swipes across my temple reverently, brushing a wispy lock of hair from my cheek. The blunt end of his cock nudges my thigh as we bask in this moment. This anticipation. Because suddenly, this night feels different.
“I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my life,” I confess to him. His responding smile is soft, one I’m not sure I’ve ever seen on him.
His thumb still strokes at my temple with heart-aching gentleness as he slides himself into me. We sigh in unison, and then he says, “Me neither, Princess. Me neither.”
We kiss, we touch, he rocks into me, he fucks me until I shake beneath him. On every surface we can find. He spends the entire night proving just how badly he wants me, pulling me apart at every seam, watching me crumble for him over and over again.
I think he crumbles a bit for me too though.
When we’re both boneless and exhausted, he pulls me into the cradle of his body and holds me like he’ll never let go.
And when he feels how cold my feet are, he tangles his warm legs against them.
23
Rhett
Kip: Is everything okay? Neither of you have answered my texts about your meeting with the Ariat guys.
Rhett: Yes, Daddy. Everything is fine. Some of us sleep at night.
Kip: I was worried she might have killed you. Just looking out for you, son.
Rhett: She almost did.
I sleep more comfortably than I have in, well, ever. Summer fits against me like she was made for me. I don’t even mind her cold-ass feet.
I wake up to pull her closer, or to thumb a piece of her silky hair, or to brush a featherlight kiss against those puffy lips. But it never really feels like waking up, just an extension of my blissful comfort. We smell like soap and minty toothpaste, because truthfully, we haven’t been asleep for that long.
It’s the sensation of being watched that finally draws my eyes open in the already light room. Summer is wedged under my arm, hair a tangled mess, lips all swollen and pink, bare face sprinkled with freckles like sugar on top of a cupcake.
When I meet her gaze, she doesn’t look away.
“Is this when you kill me in my sleep? You mentioned that at one point.” My morning voice is raspy, and so is her soft chuckle as I squeeze her tighter. “You’ve been playing the long game this entire time, haven’t you? You didn’t have a teenaged crush on me at all. You’ve been plotting my murder for over a decade.”
She nuzzles her face into my chest. “Shut up.”
Her eyelashes sweep against my skin as her fingers swirl in my chest hair.
“Are you hiding from me, Summer?” I fist her hair and give it a tug, forcing her chin up.
“I’m just working things out in my head.”
Yeah, well, I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. I knew she’d take off in the morning. All the people who I want to stay never do. It’s the ones I can’t get away from fast enough that hang around. The ones who want something from me.
I grunt noncommittally, feeling irrationally attached to Summer after getting naked for one night. Which is brand spanking new for someone who only ever wants one night.
“Don’t grunt at me, Rhett Eaton.”
I sigh and scrub at my face, wanting to fall back into the quiet, happy lull before this conversation started. “What are you working out?”
She peeks up at me. “Well, for starters, how to convince you to go again.”
My brows raise. “Yeah?”
She grins. “Yeah, but look at the time. You need to be at the arena for another interview and a meeting with a sponsor in one hour.”