Chapter Twenty-Eight
RHYLAND
M aybe it was my destiny to walk into situations where other men were trying to seduce Cosmos.
She and Tucker were standing there in the living room, with Gravity at their feet doing a puzzle.
Only I knew better than to think Dylan actually wanted him here.
“Tucker,” I greeted with a devil-may-care smirk, letting the door slam shut behind me for the full effect. “I didn’t realize you were in the mood for hospital food.”
“Why would you say that?” he sneered.
“You’re standing too close to my fiancée for my liking.”
He stepped back. Gravity shot up and ran toward me, and I picked her up midrun, tossing her in the air.
“Uncle Rhyrand!”
“Little stinker,” I greeted back.
She giggled, and I didn’t know why, but I wanted to rub it in his fucking face. So I hoisted her up on my shoulders and walked toward the kitchen. Her head nearly scraped the ceiling I was so tall. She shot her little hands up, laughing uncontrollably.
“Rhy, you’re going to give my kid a concussion,” Dylan warned.
I opened the fridge, making sure he knew I was right at home in this place. “Nah. I’m never gonna let anything bad happen to her. Right, little stinker?”
“Right!” Gravity hugged my neck from behind, resting her cheek on my head. “I’m sad I can’t pull your hair like a horsey now,” Grav murmured above me. She missed the man bun.
“Run your cheek over my hair. It’ll give you a fuzzy feeling.”
She did. My hair was buzzed and very straight, so the sensation was satisfying.
I grabbed orange juice from the fridge and gulped it straight from the carton.
“Me too!” Grav piped up from above my head. I reached to give her some, and she held the carton clumsily. Orange juice poured down my face and onto some of my Prada shirt, and for once, I didn’t care.
I turned around to Dylan and Tucker, chuckling. “Grav decided my shirt should be orange, not white.”
Dylan’s expression was whimsical, charmed, almost pained. “It suits you,” she croaked softly.
My eyes flashed to Tucker. I saw the stain of ketchup on his shirt and immediately understood.
“Tucker, it’s time for you to leave,” Dylan said.
He opened his mouth, about to argue, then glanced at me and groaned. “Fine. Gravity, come say goodbye,” he barked at her. Like she was his dog or something.
“Grav needs to go down for her nap,” I informed him unflappably. I knew her schedule by heart, thanks to our time together. “Bye, Tuckwad.”
That made Gravity giggle even though she didn’t get the reference.
I took her to her room to tuck her in and rolled down the blackout blinds. Kissed her forehead. Gave her some daily words of affirmation. “You’re cute. You’re smart. You keep Uncle Rhyland from saying bad words because he can’t afford your fees.” I winked.
“Oh, I wove you, Uncle Rhyrand.”
“I like you too, little stinker.” And as I left her room and closed the door behind me, I realized that wasn’t even a lie anymore.
Dylan was waiting for me in the living room with two tall glasses of white wine. I checked my watch. I’d already sold all my Patek Philippe, Rolex, and Cartier, and now I was sporting an embarrassing Michele Deco Madison. At this rate, I was going to show up to Bruce’s place with a fucking Apple Watch.
“It’s only two,” I pointed out.
She shrugged. “I needed something stronger than coffee.”
“I’d have volunteered my dick.” I sauntered over to her, grabbing a glass of wine from her outstretched hand and taking a sip. “Did you like my flowers today?”
She grinned. “I did. Mine hasn’t arrived yet, though.”
I waved her off. “You could be carrying the Spanish flu and I’d still tap that.”
She pressed her face to my shoulder, breathing me in, and I instinctively curled an arm around her, kissing the top of her head. “Was it that bad?”
“Oh, worse.” She kissed the exposed sliver of skin peeking through my shirt. It gave me a glimpse at who Dylan could’ve been if Tucker and her dad hadn’t collectively shat on her trust in men, and I was low-key mad at them for doing that.
She’d have made a great real fiancée. Not that I was looking for one.
“He tried to pitch me a restaurant idea and asked if he could send Row a proposal. Every time Grav tried to speak to him, he either ignored her or barked at her that he was speaking. And before you came in, I think he meant to kiss me, even though I flat out told him I’d rather die than give him another chance.”
“Hey, you gave it a try, and it turned out he is as much of a failure as a dad as he is as a partner and a human.” I hitched a shoulder up. “At least you tried.”
“It’s not that simple. He can obtain visitation rights with or without my consent. Especially in New York. I looked into it. It makes more sense for me to play along and give him supervised access to Grav. I’ve a feeling he’ll tire out once he realizes he won’t be able to get his hands on Row’s money or my ass.”
I tensed, the realization he was here to stay in their lives chilling me. “Well, I want you to call me every time he’s here so I can help you supervise him.”
She let out a chuckle. “Come on, Rhy. You have your own life. You can’t babysit me.”
“Life’s about priorities, Cosmos. And my priority is not to hear about you getting assaulted by that prick.”
We sipped our wine, and I let her vent about Tuckwad for a while before Dylan announced she needed to take a shower.
“I took one earlier today but got sweaty at the zoo,” she explained.
“Cool.” I looked around, searching for something to do. “Netflix and chill afterward?”
She gave me a weird look. “I was thinking more…mutual shower and porking?”
“Oh.” I tried to mask my pathetic delight. “Sure. Fuck Baby Reindeer. Let’s go.”
On our way to her en suite bathroom, we peered through Grav’s door. She was fast asleep, snoring softly after a long day at the zoo.
We kept the bedroom door open but locked the bathroom and undressed. I flicked on the rain shower and watched Dylan put her phone on the vanity to get undressed. It was the first time I’d seen her completely naked, and I couldn’t goddamn take it. This young, gorgeous woman needed to make up for the sexless time she’d lost during those years of hibernation. And I was happy to be of service.
I got rid of my underwear and socks until I was stark naked in front of her. She turned to me and whimpered, watching me stroke my already hard cock.
“Seriously, Rhy, how is it going to fit?”
“Trust the process.” I chuckled. “By the way. Ass play? Anal? Yes? No? Maybe?”
“I’m willing to do anything fun.” She gathered her hair into a high bun.
“Oh, it’s fun.” Pause. We both grinned at each other. “Get into the shower, and lather yourself in soap.” My tone turned businesslike.
She flushed with excitement, hurrying into the shower.
I leaned against the vanity, watching her squirt liquid soap into her palm. She cupped her tits and moved her hand all over her body sensually. It was like a slow striptease for me, and I used the opportunity to stroke my cock and get used to the glorious sight of her so that I wouldn’t come when I was halfway inside her. I usually lasted a long time. But I usually wasn’t fucking my absolute goddamn fantasy.
“Join me,” Dylan coaxed, smushing her tits together. Her body was insane. Long, lean legs, a round ass, and the faint outline of abs.
“Kneel in front of the granite bench.” I pushed off the vanity, opening the steamed glass door and stepping inside.
She did, the pearly cobblestones of the tiles digging into her knees.
I sat in front of her, my cock twitching in front of her face. She stared up at me with those dark, sexy, upturned eyes that had always symbolized power and strength to me. She went in to suck my cock but I tsked, reaching between her legs like I was fishing for something at the bottom of my bag, my fingers penetrating her pussy. She was already soaked, but not enough to take me.
“So wet. Good girl.” I gave her pussy a few degrading pats. “Now take this cock in your mouth, and show me how much you want it.”
She grabbed me by the base, flattening her tongue and taking not even a quarter of it in, using her hand to pump my length up and down with a swirl, before I put my hand on hers.
“Did I say you could use your hands?”
“Ah…”
“Masturbate with both hands while you suck me off. One hand on your clit, the other inside you.”
She complied, sucking my tip and masturbating. My dick swallowed her whimpers.
Because she had nothing to anchor my dick with, it kept swinging in her face, slapping her cute pink cheeks and slipping from her mouth. Her back arched, and she rolled her waist like a pro, and I knew—just knew—I had to come at least one time before I could fuck her properly and last. Through the noise of the pounding water, I heard the slurps of her pussy. I didn’t want her to come. Not like this. And I was close.
“Use your hands on my cock,” I instructed. “I want to come on your face. May I?”
She nodded eagerly.
My balls were already throbbing, tightening up, my muscles flexing, abs contracting.
“God, you’re so big and thick,” she moaned, holding me like an ice cream cone, licking me hungrily, sucking me, kissing the tip.
“Faster,” I rasped gruffly.
She picked up the pace.
And then I felt the tickly butterfly sensation starting from the base of my cock.
“I’m coming,” I grunted, grabbing my cock and aiming for her eyes, her mouth, her cheeks. White strings of cum covered her face. She opened her mouth, taking in as much as she could.
When I was done, I used the tip of my cock to drag a smear of cum from her cheek into her mouth. She closed her mouth over the tip immediately, sucking it clean with an innocent smile.
Our eyes met.
“Thank you.” She kissed the slit of my penis.
Oh god. I was going to marry her for real if she continued this way.
This gave me the few minutes I needed to recoup. I scooted to the edge of the bench, lifted her by the ass, and hoisted her over me so her legs were slung over my shoulders and she was sitting on my face. I leaned against the quartz wall, internally acknowledging that I had the audacity to fuck my best friend’s sister in his own shower, in which he’d probably screwed his own wife countless times, and still I was beyond shame. Past redemption. The crux of my existence, it seemed these days, was to fuck Dylan as much as I could for as long as I could. And I wasn’t even inside her yet.
“I’m unsteady.” Her palms flattened against the wall as I nuzzled her clit, rubbing it in circles with the tip of my nose. “What if I fa—ahhh.”
I licked her, butt crack to clit, gathering a fair helping of pussy juice to coat my tongue with. Fuck, she was delicious. Earthy, musky, sweet, and a little salty. Generally speaking, pussy tasted like a penny, but Dylan’s pussy tasted like the four hundred million I was going to make from Bruce Marshall.
“Ohhhh…” She began to ride my face shamelessly, no longer worried about falling off my shoulders.
I grabbed her ass in a death grip to keep her balanced, my pinkie traveling into her ass every now and then for a tease. I used my nose to swirl her clit, fucking her with my tongue. Nature had been kind to me and given me a long, strong tongue—one that could reach the tip of my nose…and serve as a good cock substitute. My tongue mercilessly thrust in and out of her as she cupped the back of my head and rode me like a cowgirl. I was already at half-mast again.
This woman was either going to be the death of me or the love of my life. No in-between about it.
“I’m coming.” She squirmed, trying to dodge my tongue, the sensation too much, too acute, for her.
“Yeah, baby. Come all over my face.”
I felt her muscles spasm around my tongue, her legs shaking along my back, toes curling against my skin, and I knew that sex with her was going to be like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
I brought her down gently after she came, holding her by the waist and setting her on my lap while I was still on the bench, her legs spread open on either side of me. She looked drunk on lust. I kissed her hard, claiming her sweet mouth, tasting my salty jizz on her plump lips.
“I cannot wait to claim that ass, sweetheart.” I reached between us to check how wet her pussy was. She was ready now. But I still needed a few minutes. “First, we’ll get your pussy adjusted to my size. Then we’re claiming this.” I pushed my middle finger gently into her tight hole.
She writhed and groaned, sinking her ass into my touch. The water grew colder around us.
“Ugh. The boiler’s a mess,” Dylan said apologetically. My finger was halfway inside her ass, and she was moving around to give it space, letting it stretch her out. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” I kissed the side of her neck. “Let’s move it outside. It’s probably better that we turn off the water in case Grav wakes up.”
She stilled in my arms, haunted eyes searching mine.
I frowned. “What?”
“You care.”
“Of course I care. I’m not a fucking monster.”
“I never said you were, but a few weeks ago, you were adamant you hated children.”
“Listen, Cosmos, I’d love to have this conversation with you, but maybe when I don’t have my finger up your ass and my dick begging to be inside you.”
She laughed, swatting my chest.
We hobbled outside, and I bent her over the vanity. Her fingers curled around the edges of the copper vessel sink.
“Are you sure I’m ready for it?”
“You gave birth,” I chuckled, taking my dick in my hand and guiding the fat, thick crown into her pussy from behind. I was counting on hitting her G-spot and making her forget about how big it was.
“I had a C-section,” she said. “I still have an ugly scar as a souvenir.”
“Nothing about you is ugly.” I pressed into her, and she hissed, arching toward me nonetheless.
“This okay?” I groaned. She was probably the tightest partner I’d ever been with.
She nodded swiftly. “Yup. Yeah.”
But I could tell she wasn’t breathing. Still, I pushed in some more, until I was halfway through.
She clenched around me, and my eyes rolled over.
“I need you to relax before I come my entire body weight into you,” I warned softly.
She laughed, her entire body trembling, which made her pussy unclench a little and allowed me to slide the rest of my cock into her.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Full,” she croaked.
“Can I start pumping?” I moved her hair across one shoulder, bending down to kiss the side of her neck.
“Yes.”
I grabbed her by the waist with one hand and started pumping lazily, watching myself in the mirror in front of us. My abs flexed with each thrust, and it was the most satisfying thing I’d ever fucking done in my life.
“You look like you want to high-five yourself,” Dylan moaned from underneath me.
“True story,” I chuckled.
I withdrew, slamming into her again. Nothing should feel this good in life. I hoisted one of her feet up off the floor by tugging at her waist, turning her slightly sideways for deeper penetration, and when I pressed in again, I knew I was hitting her G-spot from the shuddering and uncontrollable whimpers of pleasure coming from her.
“Oh, Rhy—”
I spat onto the tip of my forefinger and slid it into her ass. It slipped in so effortlessly I could tell I’d already managed to stretch her a little. “You are doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it all in like the perfect girl that you are. Grab your tits and lick them for me, okay?”
She did just that, and it was a miracle each time I drove into her without coming.
Suddenly, her phone started dancing on the counter in front of us. She grabbed it, letting go of her tits.
“Oh, shit. It’s Tuckwad.” Dylan’s eyes met mine in the vanity mirror, and we both shared a private laugh. I liked that the nickname had stuck.
“Answer him.”
“Are you kidding me? What if—”
“That’s the point.” I smashed into her from behind again, the slap of our flesh meeting making my balls tingle. “I want him to hear me fucking you into submission.”
Her blush deepened, and she slid her finger across the screen, clearing her throat. “Yes?”
Thrust.
“Tucker?”
“Hi. Uh, it’s me.” His little bitchy, sulking tone filled the bathroom as I rode Dylan’s pussy like it was a carousel. “I was going to check when’s the next time I can see my daughter.”
Thrust.
“Anytime during a weekday next week.”
Thrust.
“We’re flying out to Texas for the weekend from Friday to Sunday,” Dylan explained.
“Are you…are you jogging?” He sounded confused.
Dylan slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle as I picked up speed, gathering those ass cheeks and giving them gentle slaps of appreciation.
“Stick to the point,” Dylan managed to moan breathlessly. “What day do you want to see her?”
Thrust.
“You know, actually, I didn’t authorize this little trip of yours.” Tucker sounded butt-hurt.
“Oh, please.” Dylan’s temper flared, but she also sounded like she was about to come. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve been—”
Thrust.
“—MIA—”
Thrust.
“—for four years—”
Thrust.
“—and I managed to keep her alive.”
Thrust.
“She doesn’t—”
Thrust.
“—even—”
Thrust.
“—like you.”
The other side of the line went deathly still to the point I thought the call had disconnected. I was almost there, on the cliff of a mind-blowing orgasm, and with the way Dylan was panting with abandon, gripping the sink for dear life, I knew I wasn’t the only one.
“Are you fucking him as we speak?” Tucker asked finally after a long pause. Disgust dripped from each and every one of his syllables, and I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. But I let Dylan have the honor. She never disappointed when it came to put-downs.
“No.” She was done trying to be quiet, moaning loudly, like in a porno. The thwack of our skin slapping together rang in the air. So did the wet sounds of her pussy and the soft thud of my balls hitting her lower ass cheeks. “For your information, he’s fucking me.”
More silence. My chest rumbled with a chuckle.
“His finger is up my ass now,” Dylan reported, crying louder. “God, he is so good, Tuck. I thought what we had going was great. I was so wrong. I’ve had four mini orgasms in the past three minutes alone, and I’m about to ride the really big one.”
More silence. I started to laugh, still fucking her from behind. We both came together, moaning and grunting and panting in unison.
Throughout the entire thing, the other end of the line was quiet.
After Dylan gathered herself, she cleared her throat and asked, “So Wednesday okay? Around three p.m.? I have an opening. Are you still there?”
“Whatever,” Tucker bit out and killed the call.
She fell into my arms, both of us laughing.