Ella shifted, her lush ass brushing his engorged cock. He bit back the groan that wanted to escape. “You can’t want to do this again.”
“You look at me wrong and I want to do this again. And I know you want it, too. Your body doesn’t lie.” He nudged her shoulders. “Get on your hands and knees, babe.”
“W-what?” The quiver in her voice was unmistakable. She sounded nervous.
And hopelessly aroused.
“You heard me.” Something possessed him, turned him into some sort of demon hell-bent on breaking her. On making her completely and totally his.
She would have no doubt of it after tonight. The pretense grew wearisome. He might not be able to say it in flowery, romantic words, but he could show her.
And he would.
His mood had completely changed, had become dark, almost menacing. Not that she was scared, not precisely. Rhett was as tender and gentle a lover as any she’d ever experienced, maybe even more so. Skilled and precise, though never too precise, considering how out of control he usually became within moments of touching her.
A secret badge she wore with pride, that she could make the charming bad-boy Rhett Worth lose it. How she enjoyed that glimmer of imperfection. Of seeing the man fall completely apart, his expression one of agonized ecstasy, his head tossed back, his muscles in stark relief as he strained above her. Below her.
Always inside her.
He’d completely released her, pushing her into position, and she went on her hands and knees, embarrassed to be on such blatant display for him, what with her butt and everything else in his face. She’d never had a man take her from behind before.
There were many things she’d never done before Rhett.
He climbed off the bed. She watched in anticipation as he went to the dresser across the room and opened the top drawer, pulling out a fresh box of condoms. “We ran out,” he said, tearing into the box and pouring a handful of colorful wrapped squares into the palm of his hand.
Her heart racing, she released a trembling breath when he approached the bed. He tossed the condoms onto the bedside table, stopping so he stood before her, his erection directly in front of her face.
Poised and ready before her mouth.
She glanced up at him, her hair tumbling over her eyes, blurring her vision. He studied her, his lids heavy, his expression slumberous, belying the awareness that made his body taut. She saw it, the subtle tightening of his muscles, the way his hands were suddenly clenched into fists.
Knowing what he wanted, she sat up, kneeling on the mattress. She remained silent, reaching for him, curling her fingers around his thick length.
His sharp intake of breath the only indication he approved of her actions.
He was a talker, an endless spinner of words, but for now he remained quiet and there was something even more alluring, more exciting about that. She became attuned to the sound of the palm trees rattling outside. A breeze blew through the window and it washed over her, cooling her flesh. Arousing her senses. The scent of his skin, the scent of his cock, musky and pungent, remnants of their earlier lovemaking lingering there.
It was the smell of his semen and her moisture combined that she embarrassingly enough wanted to capture. A most unconventional quest it was, trying to create the true and distinct scent of sex. Not that she wanted the perfume to be solely based on that, oh no.
But making it an important factor of the scent, oh yes, indeed.
“Take me in your mouth,” he urged in that deceptively soft voice. Her easygoing, devil-may-care Rhett was gone tonight. Before her stood a man in absolute command, who wasn’t above demanding his satisfaction.
She thrilled at the potential.
Doing as he bid, she scooted closer, her gaze staying with his as she bent and slowly parted her lips, pressed them to the very tip of his cock. She delivered a kiss, sticky clear liquid clinging to her lips and she licked them, savoring the taste of him.
He didn’t so much as make a sound, though she detected a faint grimace marring his features. She played because he allowed her to. Sweet butterfly kisses all over the flared head, her tongue darting intermittently but never enough to completely satisfy. He gloried in teasing her, driving her crazy with it, and usually she was too rushed, too eager to return the favor.
His mood had affected her wicked mood as well, she realized as she reached for him. Wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, she drew him in deeper. Her lips tight, her tongue busy, her mouth so very, very wet…
“Jesus,” he gritted from between clenched teeth. He grasped either side of her head, his fingers tangling in the snarl of her hair. “You’re killing me.”
She let him take the lead. He moved, pushing in and out of her mouth, his expression ferocious, his hands tight in her hair. She welcomed the pain, had never found it arousing before but this act they were sharing between them made her feel.
It made the confusing emotions swirling within her terrifyingly real.
“I could come,” he practically growled. “Just like this. Right now if I let myself go.”