Chapter 10
ELARA
Iroll over, bringing my knees to my chest, anxiety twisting me into knots.
It’s been a rollercoaster today. First, the heartwarming moment when Rhett gave me that wonderful book.
Then the lust in the gym, followed by the terror in the forest. Finally, more warmth as I watched Rhett and Mira together.
Rolling onto my back, I sigh. Sleep feels a long way off.
I push the sheets off myself. My body is covered in a thin layer of sweat.
My thoughts keep returning to the dojo, to that moment of crazy confidence when I bent over and met Rhett’s eyes. I can’t stop thinking about how his body seemed to harden, like he was going to rip off his clothes and go full savage on me.
I press my legs together just thinking about it. My wet folds rub achingly against my underwear. A warm flush spreads over my chest, making my nipples tingle and bead against my bra. I bite my lip. I haven’t felt like this in a long, long, long time.
Maybe never.
If I stubbornly keep my mind on the dojo, it’s like I can forget everything else. Forget what I saw, or what I thought I saw, in the forest.
Someone was there. A ghost didn’t smoke that cigarette.
But not him.
“Stop it,” I whisper, gripping a handful of sheets. “Stay in that dojo.”
I force myself back into that memory, looking in the mirror. Rhett fixated on me as if I’m the only woman he can imagine ever wanting.
Then, as if it has a mind of its own, my hand glides down my stomach. Tendrils of warm lust spread down my thighs. My underwear is sticky, my core pulsing temptingly. My clit has never been this sensitive.
I can’t remember the last time I touched myself like this, can’t remember the last time I even considered it.
But I want that feeling back: powerful, owning my body, owning the moment, owning Rhett’s attention.
I gasp as I gently glide my fingers over the outside of my underwear. My legs twitch. I rub slowly at first, then faster. In my head, I imagine Rhett walking up behind me, grinding his hips against my ass.
His hands claiming my hips, gripping me hard, pulling me tight against him.
“Feel what you do to me. Feel how wild you make me.”
I moan, turn my head, and bite down on the pillow.
I feel him swell in his shorts, his thick manhood pushing against me. His breath is hot against my throat.
I can so easily imagine his breathing coming fast and hungry, tinged with desire, his thick steel rubbing against me. I close my eyes tight, grind the heel of my palm against my clit. My pussy is fluttering, wetness flooding my underwear.
Any nerves drain away when I slip my hand inside my underwear, pressing my hand against my skin. I bite even harder on the pillow to stop the whimpers from escaping me. Part of me wants to scream and get him in here, but I know I wouldn’t be able to be this confident in real life.
In the fantasy, I’m moaning insistently, begging him to tear my leggings off.
“I don’t want you to mess around, Rhett. I know you need me. I’ve seen you looking. Take out your hard cock and drive it into me. Oh, fuck, Rhett. Bury it deep, squeeze my ass and grab my hips as hard as you fuck me…”
I gasp, rocking my hips in time with my hand, jerking them up and down as the friction becomes addictive and unstoppable. I can hardly take it anymore.
My toes curl, then the fantasy changes.
Suddenly, I’m sitting atop him, my hands buried in his hard chest, my fingernails bending against his firmness. His hands gliding over my hips, squeezing possessively, sinking his touch deep into my curves.
“I fucking love how thick you are,” his husky voice fills my mind. “Just for me. Only for me. Always for me…”
I bite my pillow as something hot and needy swells inside of me. The orgasm flows from my clit and spreads through my core, tickling and teasing my body, making my legs shake as I arch my back and imagine him sliding all the way inside of me, deep, deep, duh-duh-deep…
“Fuck.” I gasp, letting my hand fall, peeling my eyes open and staring at a shaft of moonlight on the ceiling.
I sit up, a sleepy, silly smile on my face, feeling drunk from what I’ve just done.
Outside, there’s a grunting noise?
Or what could be a grunting noise.
I snatch up my T-shirt, struggling to get my breathing under control. Maybe I imagined it. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s Lucian and somehow he’s out and he’s going to rush in here and finish what he started.
I tiptoe out of my bedroom, poke my head into Mira’s room.
She’s sleeping on her side, her thumb in her mouth, smiling around it. She looks far more peaceful than she has in a year. Rhett has changed her without a doubt, and even if I don’t understand how, I savor it, cherish it. It’s special. He’s special.
I shake my head, wondering if I can chalk this up to post-orgasm delirium. Great, now I’m diagnosing myself like some Victorian quack doctor.
I knock on Rhett’s door. “Rhett?” I whisper. “Are you awake? Rhett?”
I knock again, causing the door to slide open, the hinges whining softly. The guest bed is empty. A pit opens in my gut. He’s not here. It was a crazy scheme to begin with, this fake-boyfriend thing, but if he was going to leave, he could’ve at least told me.
Then, behind me comes a creak, another door.
I spin, panic tearing through me.
A man with a gun stands in the doorway, eyes gleaming.
I open my mouth to shout, then Rhett steps into the soft lamplight.
“Hey, hey, it’s me,” he says quickly. “I was keeping watch.”
“Were you outside?” I ask.
He nods. “Doing a circuit of the property. Should’ve bought the cameras and sensors today. It’s hard to sleep without them.”
He strides across the room, wearing a plaid shirt and cargo pants, with thick, chunky boots on his feet. He hasn’t shaved since I met him, and now he’s got a short beard, not just stubble, shot with silver through it.
I wonder what he’d say if I told him, your beard is like moonlight. Is that romantic or just plain weird?
“Are you okay?” he says, touching my hand and squeezing it softly. “You’re on the verge of hyperventilating.”
That’s because my body is still humming from what I just did… and from the fear.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
“It’s a warm night,” he says. “Care to join your boyfriend on the porch and watch the world go by?”
“Sure, Rhett. That sounds nice.”
He leads me to the door, holding his gun in the other hand, then places his gun down and takes a coat from the rack and drapes it over my shoulders. As he tightens it around me, making sure I’m warm, I can’t lie…
I feel like his girlfriend.