20. Anastasia
Anastasia
S urviving until fall break is the first checkpoint of accomplishment in every college student’s year.
I’m up long past midnight trying to finish a damn paper due for our last day tomorrow. I’ve left it until the very last minute, as I always do. But this time it’s been from spending many days at the hospital over the past few weeks.
After grabbing a late-night snack to push me through another hour so I can read over what I’ve written, I head back to my room. I’m about to go inside when a quiet mumble comes from Rhett’s door. He said he was off to bed more than two hours ago.
I shouldn’t be nosy, but I can’t help inching closer to his door. It’s silent again. Then my heart speeds up at the next disruption. Hardly coherent, but I think I hear “stop,” which is enough to raise my concern.
Tapping his door quietly, I say his name. No answer, but every now and then I’m sure his voice strains some words. Throwing all calls for privacy to the wind, I open his door a fraction, but I can hardly see in the dark.
“Rhett,” I whisper again.
This time, when he doesn’t answer, I enter fully. My eyes adjust to the dark as I close the door behind me and creep toward the bed. I shouldn’t be here. This is certainly stalker-type stuff. But something presses me forward.
He’s asleep, the duvet slung over his lower half and his toned chest stretched out, looking godly. One hand fists the sheets while his other arm is folded over his face.
Is he having a nightmare?
“Don’t hurt ...” he murmurs with a jerk.
My chest drums wildly. “Rhett, wake up,” I say a little louder, but not wanting to scare the shit out of him.
I reach over to touch his forearm, but it’s me who ends up frightened beyond belief at his sudden movement when he grabs me, and before I can process how the fuck anyone can move like that I’m pinned to the mattress, hands locked above my head in one of his hands while the other wraps around my neck.
Lucky for me, he seems to register I’m not the monster of his nightmare before he crushes my throat.
He seethes down at me with such vengeance and fury I’m terrified at what he’s capable of. Not that he’d do it to me. It only lasts for seconds before he comes around through long, labored breaths and his face relaxes.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says.
Instead of letting me go, Rhett leans his forehead to mine, shifting his weight until his body is between my legs instead. Desire runs through me as it brings our skin closer to being flush.
“It’s okay,” I get out, still racing with adrenaline, and this position certainly isn’t helping. “I just ... I heard you and I came in. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me,” he says. “You saved me.”
I don’t want to imagine the scene he’s met in his nightmares many times. His fiancée’s death.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask carefully.
Rhett shakes his head. My pulse skips.
“I want to forget about it.”
“Okay,” I breathe, on a razor’s edge of anticipation.
“What are you doing to me, Ana?” he whispers.
Rhett kisses the edge of my jaw, then he trails his mouth down my neck, still holding me helpless against him. The hand that was around my neck slips down the side of my body, and I curve into him with a soft moan.
“Fuck,” he breathes, bringing his head back up to crash his lips to mine, and then I’m done for.
Rhett’s knee hooks beneath mine, pressing his hard length to my core, and the thin fabric between us becomes torturous with his slow friction. His hand explores my ribs, stopping under the curve of my breast, and I’m so damn close to begging for him to touch me.
“I want to fuck you, Ana,” he growls against my lips. “So badly it’s been driving me insane.”
“I want it too,” I say, near desperate with my skin on fire against his.
It’s all he needs, and when he finally squeezes my breast I moan into his mouth, pushing into him.
“You’re a needy girl,” he groans.
“Stop treating me like glass, Rhett. I won’t break.”
He gives a low noise of approval before his assault intensifies.
Slipping my top higher, his tongue flicks over my nipple, and I writhe beneath him.
He finally lets my hands go, and I fold out of my top before diving my hands into his silvery-blond hair as he descends.
Shit, I’m so embarrassingly wet for him.
Rhett hooks my shorts down without his lips ever leaving my skin. Lower and lower. Cool air breezes across my slickness, which is practically dripping out of me. Instinctively my knees try to pull together, but Rhett forces them apart.
“Keep these legs spread for me, little bird.”
Looking at him between my legs, kissing along the insides of my thighs, I’m so worked up with need it’s bliss and torture.
“Rhett, please.”
“Please what, baby?”
“I need to come,” I beg.
Rhett’s tongue slides through my folds and I cry out, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets on either side of me.
“So sweet,” he says, teasing a finger at my entrance. “So damn tight.”
He sinks in slowly, sucking at my clit, and I’m already rapidly chasing a climax.
“Are you always this needy for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
After a few torturous strokes he adds a second finger, playing me like a fucking fiddle, and I lose my damn mind.
My hand threads through his hair while my hips lift, chasing more when he’s already teasing me beyond sanity. He chuckles darkly against me.
“I knew you would be sinfully greedy,” he says huskily.
Then he devours me.
My thighs want to clamp tight with the orgasm forming in my lower belly, but Rhett growls, pushing my thighs open in warning with one hand while the other pumps two fingers in and out of me in a faster rhythm when he feels my walls tightening.
“Come on my tongue,” he orders, dipped in such sin it’s my unraveling.
My back bows off the bed, head thrown back, and I have to clamp one hand over my mouth out of fear I might wake the damn household with the crash that erupts from every part of me.
I start to get dizzy when he doesn’t stop, continuing his assault to stretch out my climax to the point of overstimulation.
He retreats all at once and I pant hard to collect my damn mind.
I moan when he trails kisses over my stomach, climbing my body, and when his cock slides along my pussy I can think of nothing else but taking him inside me.
“You taste better than I imagined,” he says, kissing my mouth hard.
My hand reaches between us, gripping his cock and pumping a couple of times until I find the right pressure that has him jerking into my palm.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says, ready to leave this at foreplay, but I’m not.
“I’m on birth control and I’m clear. Unless you want to confess to your string of affairs without being tested ...”
I line him up at my entrance, and his answer comes in the slow sinking of his cock into me. My brow pulls together at the fullness that creates a pinch with the size of him.
“It’s been a while, and I’ve certainly been tested and cleared since,” he confirms in a thick, raspy voice as he stares down between us.
He stretches me until his hips meet mine and we share a ragged breath.
“It’s as if you were fucking made for me,” he grinds out, beginning a gentle pace so I can adjust.
“You take your job very seriously, Agent Kaiser,” I breathe, so euphoric and full with him inside me.
Even in the low moonlight I can make out his wicked smirk.
“Protecting your body is my greatest damn privilege, Miss Kinsley.” He pulls nearly all the way out only to slam back in, and I cry out his name.
Something about the title and the sinful way he speaks it makes my body sing.
Like this is wrong, forbidden, but it’s unstoppable.
This magnet between us we’ve resisted for too long.
Rhett fucks me hard, hooking my thigh around him to sink in deeper.
“Touch yourself for me, baby,” he says, flicking his tongue across my nipple. It skitters sparks right down to where he wants my hand.
I circle my clit, and what was slow-building speeds up in a sprint. I feel his cock sliding in and out of me between my fingers when they pass down lower, and it’s so erotic my climax is right. Fucking. There.
“Right there,” I rasp when he’s hitting a certain spot inside me that draws out unchecked sounds.
“Good girl,” he praises, slipping his arm under my arched back to pound into me tighter. “Always tell me what feels good.”
Pleasure explodes with every thrust, like small climaxes building toward something earth-shattering.
“Rhett, I’m going to—” I lose my own words under a wave of pleasure.
“I know, baby. You’re squeezing the damn life out of me.”
He sucks on my nipple and I come apart. My fingers dig into his forearm and then claw his chest. He growls with it, driving into me harder as he reaches his own orgasm. He pulls out right before, pumping his dick as hot cum ropes over my stomach where I lie quivering with the aftershocks.
Holy fucking shit.
I knew sex with Rhett would be incredible, but that was mind-blowing, unlike anything I’ve experienced before. I’m still coming down from it when he kneels between my open legs, catching his breath.
“Are you okay?” he asks carefully.
Is that a trick question?
“More than okay,” I say. He gets off the bed and I watch his perfect ass head to the en suite, flipping on the light before he disappears inside.
A few seconds later the water is running. It’s too heavy to be the shower. He comes back and tenderly cleans my stomach with a wet towel while the bath fills.
I don’t know if he wants me to leave and bathe alone. I’ll shower in my own room ...
His hand hooks under my bent knee, and I squeal when he pulls me around before hooking his hand under the other knee and dragging me to the edge of the bed. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Rhett leans over me, kissing me firmly once before slipping his arms under my back. My legs tighten around his waist as he lifts.
“I’m not ready to let you go tonight, if that’s okay with you,” he says, carrying me to the bathroom.
“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
His smile is so content—a kind I rarely see that makes him appear so much softer.
Rhett gets in first, then he helps me, and I settle with my back against his chest. I scoop bubbles while his fingers idly trace my arm and his lips occasionally press to my shoulder.
The silence is peaceful, but I can’t settle my anxiety that this is only one night and he’ll put distance between us tomorrow.
“Do I get to know your secret yet?” I ask quietly.
His fingers stop moving. “Have you always been attracted to dangerous things?”
“You can stop trying to scare me away.”
“I’m not. Because even if I were, I don’t think I’m capable of truly letting you get away from me anymore.”
Something in that is threatening. In a way that makes my stomach coil like the thrill of a chase. And the forever promise of being found. Never lost again.
My head tips back against his shoulder. “I think you opened the door to my cage,” I say, reflecting.
“No, little bird. I might have shown you there was a door, but opening it was all you, and I think you’re yet to fully fly free.”
Perhaps I’m too afraid he’ll leave me. That he’ll think I don’t need him anymore if I do. Needing Rhett doesn’t feel like dependency; it feels like security. Like we can take on anything together.