Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
CARYS
Three hours later, I’m wedged between Rhett’s strong legs, his hands on my thighs and my head resting against his chest, a period romance playing on the large screen.
A blanket from my apartment is thrown over our outstretched legs.
Rhett’s movie room has a couch big enough to seat eight, but we’ve made a little pallet out of pillows just in front of it, my need to be in constant contact still riding me hard.
Rhett runs his nose over my shoulder, pushing my shirt aside, as I eat another piece of popcorn from the obscenely large bowl just to the left of our cocoon.
He lightly bites the sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder meet just as we watch the resistant couple on the screen finally admit they want each other, coming together in a hard, impulsive kiss. I perfume, and he chuckles.
“He could have picked a better spot to let it slip,” he murmurs. Goosebumps race down my throat. “They’re totally going to get walked in on before they can actually do anything with each other, and it’s his own damn fault.”
“It’s about the romance of it all!” I say with a smile, grabbing another piece of popcorn. “It’s raining, she’s flustered because of her mom being a jerk, and her best friend’s been gone for a week. She’s at a really low point, and he sees that. He’s trying to show her that she’s not alone.”
He sighs. “Doesn’t change the fact this is about to get awkward as fuck for everyone involved. He didn’t even bother to lock the door. That’s, like, the first rule you learn when you’re fooling around. Secure your border.”
I huff. “Isn’t that a war tactic?”
Rhett shrugs. “War, lust. They’re oddly similar at times.”
The guy on screen manages to get the woman’s dress pulled low enough to show off a really cute lace bra, their kiss still going strong, the camera focusing on the contrast between his tan, calloused fingers and the unblemished, creamy white swell of her breasts. I scent again, my cheeks flushing.
“That bra’s really cute,” I admit, trying to ignore how the sight of the woman’s breast has my stomach tightening. That’s new. Mostly. I’ve felt it a few times around Billie, too.
Rhett’s laugh is so warm, it’s infectious. It pulls me right out of the confusing jumble happening in my body.
“Enjoy it for another three seconds because that door’s about to fly open. My guess is it’ll be the older brother.”
Sure enough, the woman’s older brother storms into the room, pauses for a comically long minute, and then launches himself at the love interest. I flinch away from the violence and then twist entirely, wanting to kiss Rhett instead of see the third-act break up we both know is coming.
He doesn’t seem to mind, palming the side of my neck and taking the kiss deeper, his tongue dancing with mine.
Lemongrass surrounds us, intertwines with my own scent, and Rhett groans.
He fumbles for the remote, not pulling away from me, and then the entire screen turns off, plunging the room into almost darkness, only the small lamps just behind the sofa giving light.
He breaks away from me, trailing kisses across my jaw and then down my throat, just like that very first time.
And like that time, he wraps my hair around his hand and tilts my head back, giving him room to lightly lick the hollow of my throat.
My pussy clenches, slick drenching my panties and rushing onto my thighs. My whimper is echoed in his own moan.
He twists us faster than I can track, my own back pressing into the blankets, his knees wedging my own wider, and his arms braced just above my head, avoiding all of my hair that’s now fallen out of the ponytail. He trails his nose across the neckline of my shirt.
“This okay?” he asks. His gaze flicks up to me, and I quickly nod.
God, yes, it’s okay. Better than okay.
He pushes my shirt down, revealing my own lacy bra, a happy spring green that matches my eyes.
He grins and then nudges the edge of the cup aside, too, running his tongue over my nipple.
I whine and arch into him, the touch just enough to have need rushing through me like a fire across dried brush.
My orchid scent detonates like a bomb around us, the strongest it’s ever been.
Rhett groans, the sound nearly mournful, and then his movements become less controlled.
He undoes the front closure without missing a beat, his fingers warm against my skin as he slides both my shirt and bra up.
I sit up just enough that he slides them all the way off, tossing them into a corner of the room without looking away from me.
My nipples harden under his keen gaze, and he smirks.
“Yours, too,” I demand breathlessly.
He doesn’t argue, kneeling between my spread legs and pulling the Henley off with a single hand, tossing it the same direction as mine.
My hands are immediately on him as I sit up, needing to trace every inch of him, taste and feel him, have him plastered against me until there’s no way we can be separated.
He croons, a low, wordless sound in his throat as he cups my cheeks. My palms splay on his stomach, my fingers lightly tracing on the indents between his abs.
“You good?” he asks, his eyes bright but worried. “Your scent just…”
He trails off, and then in notice it, too, an edge to the floral that signals anxiety.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Girls just sometimes get nervous their first time.”
His eyes take in my face, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m lying to appease him. I run my hands up his body, circling his flat nipples with my thumbs. He sucks in a breath, and his lemongrass surrounds us anew. The entire room smells like a forest meadow.
“What?” I ask. “What’s bothering you?”
“I worried you had a bad experience with someone else and that’s why you were a virgin,” he admits against my lips, kissing between every couple words. “When your scent changed, I panicked.”
I quickly shake my head and pull him closer to me. “No, that’s not something that’s happened. It’s a good nervous, I promise.”
Tension falls away from his shoulders, and then he’s easing the skirt and lace panties I’d changed into at my apartment down my legs, trailing a palm all the way down to my ankle, keeping me from spreading them again.
His dick sits hard against his jeans, a clear outline of it pressing against the durable fabric.
My mouth waters, the desire to taste him, to give him pleasure the way he gave me, consuming me.
He shakes his head when I reach for the buckle and zipper, though.
“Not yet,” he says. “I want to savor you this time.”
His voice holds a wealth of promise. He presses a kiss to my ankle, and I swallow hard.
Then he guides it onto his shoulder before slowly sinking down, letting his nose trace up the inside of my thigh.
He presses a kiss to my clit, the bundle of nerves so sensitive already I can feel my heartbeat in it.
He palms my thigh, keeping me from canting my hips to silently beg for more.
His touch is just as consuming as the last time—the only time.
I sink my hands into his hair as an anchor, terrified of being swept away entirely.
Each stroke of his tongue and press of his fingers is perfect and not enough and everything I could ever dream of experiencing for the rest of my life.
I’m squirming in only a matter of minutes, completely overwhelmed.
My orgasm crests without being able to brace for it.
My back bows as I scream and my nails dig into his skin, drawing blood.
Rhett’s hand is tight on my leg, keeping me from grinding into his face.
He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t relent, until I’ve fallen all the way back down, my hands shaking from the overstimulation.
He lets my leg ease off his shoulder and then kneels, his chest heaving like he’s just had a two minute shift on the ice.
His face is covered in my slick. He wipes it away with his arm, not worried about it at all, as he works to catch his breath.
Stunningly, I perfume again, my pussy clenching around nothing.
I palm his legs, scratching my nails against the thick denim.
“I need to go grab a condom,” he says.
“Do you have to?” I blurt out the question. “I can’t get pregnant unless I’m in heat.”
“Condoms aren’t just for that,” he admonishes, squeezing my knee.
I swallow heavily. “I know.”
He arches an eyebrow.
I close my eyes, breathing through the intense need to have him and just him.
I know condoms are important. I know that it doesn’t change the way any of it feels.
I know he’s making sure I’m protected because he’s had other partners.
But the logic doesn’t touch that base desire that’s eating its way through my stomach and up my throat.
Rhett presses his face into the crook of my shoulder, lightly nipping at the skin. “Tell me, baby girl.”
“It’s stupid,” I whisper.
“Tell me anyway.”
“It makes me sad. The same way trying to let you go at the shop earlier today did.” I run my hand up his side, tracing a faint scar and the line of his hip as it disappears under the waistband of his jeans.
He takes in a long, shuddering breath, then holds it for several seconds.
“It’s ridiculous. Go get one,” I say as steadily as I can manage.
“I was tested right before Halloween, after my last hook up,” he whispers into my skin. Nervous anticipation replaces the strange primal panic. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, baby girl.”
He kisses the hollow of my throat as he pulls away.
All I can manage is to stare entirely unabashed as he strips in quick, graceful movements, kicking the pile of clothes out of the way.
His dick is long and hard, as impressive as I guessed it would be.
He cups his knot, and I swallow. His fingers don’t touch.
A thrill rockets through me. My fingers tingle in its wake, and my heart races in my ears.
He settles above me before I can reach for him, his body a wall of heat that has me trembling.
He braces one arm beside my head as he guides himself to my entrance.
His kiss distracts me as he pushes in, the invasion slow but unrelenting, taking my breath.
He twists his hand into my hair, running his thumb along my temple.
I grab at his shoulders on pure instinct, trying to process the mixed signals firing in my mind.
It hurts, but I don’t want him to stop. That basic, primal, Omega thing at the core of me writhes in happiness, absolutely loving that I’m finally experiencing this, finally letting an Alpha claim me like this.
“Okay, baby girl?” he asks.
I try and breathe, try and think around the mix of pleasure and pain. I squirm under him, and he slips farther inside, his hips nestling fully into mine. There’s a sudden pain, sharp as cut glass, there and gone in a matter of moments. I gasp, tears springing to my eyes.
“Fuck,” he whispers. His jaw whitens as he clenches it, a muscle feathering in his neck. “Oh, God. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head, blinking away the useless tears. “It’s… Just… Please—”
I cut off, not able to form a coherent thought.
The gasps make no sense, but that doesn’t stop Rhett from nodding, his eyes bright, a light sweat covering his body as he slowly pulls out and then pushes back in, the same relentless, inescapable invasion.
This time, there’s an ache but no true pain.
He repeats the motion, so incredibly controlled, his arms shaking, his jaw clenched.
This third time, when his hips wedge with mine, he brushes a spot I didn’t know existed.
Pleasure shoots down my spine and curls my toes.
“Oh,” I gasp.
“Fuck, you’re amazing.” The words are a rough gasp in their own right, and I clench around him. “Jesus fuck.”
I arch into him, trying to get him to move faster, to take me to the edge I know we’re climbing toward.
I want to throw myself off of it, hold his hand and go over with him.
He gives me one more kiss then pushes off his forearms. He trails one hand down my sternum as he moves inside me again, faster than before, his eyes taking in everything about me.
My flushed cheeks, my hardened nipples, my slick drenching his knot and my thighs.
He scents, the edge of it betraying his possessive satisfaction.
I do the same with him, taking in every muscle that ripples with his thrusts, every freckle that covers his torso and arms, the defined Adonis belt that I want to lick someday.
I cant my hips to take him deeper, and he groans.
“Fuck, this isn’t going to last long enough if you keep doing that,” he whispers.
He flattens his hand on my belly, holding me in place as he goes just a bit faster again, his gaze now rapt on where we join.
Small streaks of blood coat his thighs and hips, but the sight of them only makes me clench again, whimpering as his tempo stutters.
Pleasure builds, my clit pulsing with it. I’m right there.
“Rhett, please,” I gasp. “Please knot me.”
He nods. He grabs my ass, pulling my hips off the floor.
When he slides in again, my eyes unfocus, too much sensation rocketing through me.
His thumb circles my clit in short, hard movements, and the wave crashes through me.
I’m whimpering nonsense, the words desperate but pleasure-soaked to my own ears.
Rhett curses, low and vicious, and then I’m impossibly full, a third orgasm stealing my mind, my entire sense of self.
I scream again, my voice breaking. He pulls me into his arms, an arm tight around my waist. My legs lock around his hips and my hands around his neck on instinct.
His hand is solid on the nape of my neck, his lips demanding against mine, forcing the kiss hard and deep as my entire world shakes.
Slowly, the intense pleasure fades, only the feeling of being full and stretched left behind. My breathing settles, and he softens the kiss, pulling away. His eyes are bright, concern underlining the smug satisfaction in them.
“Wow.”
He smirks, the concern falling away.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs.
The words rocket straight through me, warming me all the way to my toes.