Chapter 45 Rhea
She’s right.
“Okay, but… I’m not very good at being bossy,” I admit, panic building that I won’t be what he needs.
“Just ask for what you want,” he says. “I’ll give it to you.” There’s something about the way he stares at me that warms a strange place in my chest—something I didn’t know existed. “Anything,” he says when I don’t answer.
“Okay,” I say, trying to find the courage to be demanding. Anything for you.
“Can I continue what I was doing now?” Brighton’s eyes are heavy, lust-filled, and searching mine for answers.
“Yeah,” I choke out, still trying to process all the information.
“Thank you,” he says, dipping back between my legs, and without warning, his tongue darts out over me.
“Fuck,” I groan, trying to maintain composure, but he’s unreasonably good at this.
His teeth nip at my clit, causing the pressure to build faster than anticipated.
I feel him smirk against me, pleased with the reaction.
His tongue circles me before he sucks it into his mouth, applying just the right amount of pressure.
One hand slides down to rub torturous circles at my entrance while the other holds my hip firmly against the bed.
“Keep going,” I breathe, and his body shudders.
Brighton does as he’s told, his tongue working faster as he slides one finger inside of me. I clamp around him, and his shoulders roll forward as he relieves some of the friction with the mattress, “Does that feel good?” he murmurs between licks.
“You’re way too good at—” My words die on my lips as he slips another inside.
Brighton smirks up at me as I squeeze around his long fingers. He curls them slightly, hitting a spot inside of me that causes my back to arch off the bed. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he loves every second of it.
He adds a another, stretching me gently as he continues to suck and lick at my clit. Everything feels overwhelming and sensitive as he works. His hand moves up to play with one of my breasts, pinching at the nipple with his fingers.
“I want you to come,” he says softly.
“That’ll make a mess,” I tease, already shaking.
“I’ll clean it up.” His eyes flicker up to mine as he bites down on my clit again. His fingers curl inside of me over and over as he hits that spot that makes my vision blur around the edges. “Please,” he adds in desperation.
My body responds to his needy plea, bucking gently as I come undone around him. I clench tightly, digging my fingers into the sheets as my arousal leaks down his palm and wrist, still pumping inside of me.
Brighton groans loudly as I come, his face buried between my legs as he laps up every drop. He doesn’t remove his fingers until I'm completely spent and desperately trying to catch my breath. He lifts them, eyes still on me, and brings them to his mouth to clean them.
“Lay down,” I say to him, trying to navigate being bossy, but it’s a learning curve I’m not sure I’m doing properly.
His eyes don’t break from mine as I continue to guide him.
I can tell he likes it because his body responds with a small twitch before he drops back to the bed without a word.
He’s hard, bobbing slightly against his stomach, and he spreads his legs slightly, putting himself entirely at my mercy.
Before, I hadn’t gotten a good look at him, and I have never been scared of a good time in my life, but Brighton Black was terrifying.
Thick, prominent veins run the expanse, almost mocking my hesitation, and I swallow nervously.
“I’ll go slow.” His hand reaches for me. “Touch me? Please.”
I climb over him, not worrying about anything else but the sound of his need as I kiss him gently.
He melts into it instantly, one hand automatically reaching up to tangle into my hair while the other slides around me to pull me closer.
His body relaxes finally as he parts his lips to deepen the kiss, but his hips shift restlessly beneath me.
“Slow?” I ask, pulling back to feel him brush against my sensitive core.
“So slow it hurts,” he admits, pressing his forehead against mine.
His icy blue gaze is heavy-lidded with desire as he inhales me.
“Take your time with me,” he demands gently, like he wants to be tortured by it, and it lights an uncomfortable fire in my chest that tingles at my skin and makes me short of breath.
I straddle him slowly, using his chest for balance.
I dig my fingers into his skin, and his body shivers beneath mine as I line him up.
His eyes flutter closed as his hands move to my hips, gripping tightly but not guiding me down yet.
I lick my bottom lip and nod before sinking down until the tip presses in—slow, deep, burning.
“Brighton,” I whisper with worry.
His eyes snap open, filled with concern and desire as his hands tighten on my hips, holding me in place as he inhales deeply. “Inch by inch, Hellcat,” he whispers. “Take it slow,” he bites his lip, fighting the urge to raise his hips.
I huff in response, feeling like an inexperienced idiot, but my body craves so much more of him, and it drives me to lower further with a small pained gasp. He nods quickly, understanding the need to go slow. His hands slide down to my thighs, spreading me wider as he helps me sink another inch.
“I wish you could see this,” he whispers, his eyes meeting mine. “It’s—”
“Use your words, Brighton,” I demand, needing to hear what he’s thinking as I slide lower, every inch should be the last, but there’s so much more.
“It’s too much,” he groans tightly. “Like you were made for me.” His words slur slightly as he struggles to maintain his control. “Give me more?” he asks, and the sound breaks me down.
I nod as his hands guide me down further, stretching me open so deeply I can feel him pressing against every wall, twitching with impatience.
“Beg me for it,” I say, finding the spark of courage to demand more of the needy, whiny Brighton from him. It turns me on more than I care to admit, and he knows it because he smiles up at me with pride.
“Please,” he whines, tilting his chin up to me. “I’ll be so good to you, but I need you to take it all.”
The sight of him begging is enough to break the strongest of women.
And I am weak. The weakest of all the women to ever roam the earth.
I sink lower, letting him fill me completely until I physically cannot take anymore.
He lets out a loud, guttural groan as I finally bottom out, his hands squeezing my thighs possessively.
When he sits up in the bed to hold me, cradling me in his lap tightly, it changes the angle and causes me to gasp loudly. I wrap around him tightly, digging my hands into his hair as his large hands splay out over my back and rib cage.
“Move, Brighton,” I demand, my voice muffled against his neck.
He starts moving immediately, lifting his hips to thrust upwards in slow, shallow movements that hit the perfect spots inside of me.
His arms stay firmly wrapped around me as he holds the gentle, rhythmic pace.
His face buries in my neck, muffling the sounds of pleasure escaping him with each deep thrust.
“Good,” I pant, digging my nails into the back of his neck. “That’s really good.”
His pace quickens slightly at the approval, his hips rolling higher and deeper.
He kisses along my jawline and neck, marking me with gentle bites and sucks that only add to the tingly high I’m riding.
His hands roam over my body possessively as he fucks me slowly in his lap, and I couldn’t ask for more even if I tried.
Tiny, delicious moans of praise spill from me as he massages around the sore entrance with his fingers, as he continues to thrust up inside me, steady and unrelenting.
He’s quick to swallow the sounds, watching me closely, studying every noise and twitch.
“You like that spot?” he groans against my lips, and I barely get the nod off as the desperate whine drips from me.
He spreads my ass with his hands, angling his hips to hit that spot over and over again, still watching my face with intent. “Right there?”
“Yeah,” I breathe out, unable to maintain control. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
His eyes light up at the praise, his movements becoming even more deliberate. He hits that spot over and over, dragging those breathy whimpers from my lips as his hands tighten on my ass. He moves slowly but intensely, making sure I feel every single thrust.
“Just a little longer,” I whisper against his mouth.
My own orgasm hits, and I tighten beneath his grip.
His eyes snap to my face as his length becomes slick, my body demanding whatever he has left, and Brighton delivers tenfold.
My toes curl tightly as he runs a hand up my sweaty spine and grips the back of my neck, pulling me back down on top of him as I try to retreat.
His hips roll up to meet my ass, and I scream out his name in a slew of curse words in the aftershocks.
I tug on his dark curls to angle his head back so I can see his face when he falls apart, buried inside of me. “Come for me?” I whisper, biting his tense jaw before soothing the spot with a gentle suck.
“Rhea, I’m not wearing—”
“I’m good. You’re good. Promise.” I kiss him again between breathless pants, soothing the worry. Brighton’s about as ready for another kid as I am for my first. His terror is palpable. Birth control is quite possibly a girl's best friend.
His eyes darken with a new hunger as he understands what I’m saying and exhales the breath he’s holding.
He nods, his movement becoming erratic as he chases his release and drags me to the edge with him.
He throbs inside of me, and it sends delicious shockwaves through me and into my stomach and toes.
“Mmm,” I moan, grabbing his jaw and rubbing my thumb over his bottom lip.
Brighton shivers hard, and his orgasm hits like a tidal wave.
He buries himself deep inside of me and comes with a deep groan that bubbles up from the base of his throat.
His hands dig into my skin hard enough to mark me with his fingertips for days to come, and he kisses me messily, swallowing my moans that follow.
We tangle together as we both rock through the rest of the pleasure.
Sloppy kisses are left against my throat, jaw, and sweaty temple as he rolls his hips up against me, slowly drawing out every single drop he can get from me until I’m nothing but a panting, boneless mess in his arms.
I pull on his hair again, harder this time, as his cock twitches inside of me, and he lets go of the most beautiful whimper.
“What was that for?” he growls and digs his fingers into my ass roughly.
“I needed to make sure you were real,” I whisper in a shallow breath.
Brighton chuckles, “You hair-pulling, aggressive little monster.” His fingers tickle my ribcage, and I start to laugh.
Just when I think he’s going to tell me that he doesn’t like it, his chin tilts up, and he pulls me against his chest tightly, “do it again,” he purrs in a tone that I didn’t even know he could make.
“We’re going to have to test out your boundaries,” I say, brushing my nose against his with a smile as he gives me another tiny thrust, his cock already hardening for more.
“Oh yeah?” His eyes flutter closed. “Why’s that, Miss I’m-not-very-good-at-bossy?” he asks with a small laugh, crackling an eye open as I kiss him.
I pull back just enough to speak, our lips brushing together as I do. “Because that was the hottest thing a man could ever do.”
Brighton’s eyes light up, and he nods eagerly, like I mean right this second, his hips rolling up against mine slowly.
He flips me over in the bed, warranting a tiny yelp as he hovers over me and kisses me gently.
“That was just the practice, Hellcat,” he warns, and crashes down on top of me. “You should see me come game time.”
“Please.” I laugh at how serious he is and tug him back for more kissing.
“I told you I’d be good to you,” he whispers against my mouth, and I think I might die.
What a damn good way to go.