Chapter 16
ELARA
Pretending with him feels too good.
I study him through the camera lens, my body sparking as hotly as my artistic desire. He walks around the perimeter, motion sensors in his hands, a stern look on his face. Whenever he glances my way, his body flexes, abs going tight, chest bulging.
He shoots me longing looks, making me think he’s working hard not to run over here. I press my legs together, knowing this is a mess, that it might go wrong again. But the heat between my legs is volcanic. My bra rubs against my nipples as if he’s somehow using it to taunt me.
Finding the light is not at all difficult right now.
I snap another photo.
He leans down to plant a sensor, then looks at me over his shoulder, a knowing smirk on his face. It takes me a second to realize what he’s doing. When it hits me, I burst out laughing, then cover my mouth because I don’t want to wake Mira. He’s pulling the same pose I did in the gym.
He stands, raising his hands. “Was that a douchebag move? For the record, you looked about a hundred times hotter.”
The sun glistens and bounces off his abs. I know I shouldn’t be obsessing, should try to play it cool… whenever I’ve thought about a man, which is hardly ever, I’ve never imagined wanting to give anyone power over me.
But with Rhett, I want him to have it.
“The only douchebag move was not letting me get a picture.”
“Oh, sorry.”
He grins and returns to his position. I take the shot. When he returns to his work, I squeeze my legs together, a hot flush creeping over me. I want it, him, us. That’s the truth. Even after the bombshell he dropped on me.
My mind is a mess with everything apart from the raw physical hunger. But what if those awful intrusive thoughts happen again? And what if, just by thinking about them possibly happening, I’ve triggered something…
Get out of your head!
He steps back, shielding the sun with his hand, looking down at his work.
The muscles across his back are tight and hard looking.
I want to sink my hand into them, feel how firm he is, feel him aching with desire for me.
I let a smile touch my lips. This is such a rush.
Like a rollercoaster ride, and I don’t know when the drop’s coming.
He walks toward the porch, winking at me. “Get enough photos?”
“Is it done?” I ask.
He nods. “No one’s getting close without us knowing about it,” he says. “And if they do…”
I walk down the steps. His shoulders are trembling slightly, the muscles in his forearms pressing against his skin like he’s going to explode. He looks at me. When I see it, the bulge in his pants, I chew on my lip.
He nods and steps closer. “Look at what you do to me,” he snarls.
I sink my hands into his chest, feeling my fingernails bend. None of it matters when the heat of his firm body burns against me. He lied, and that is all tangled up with the worst day of my life, which should give me pause. But I’m seizing this moment.
“I love it,” I whisper. “How crazy I make you. I love the way you look at me. I know you joked about the gym, but that moment… it meant a lot.”
He sinks his hands into my hips as if his life depends on it. I’ve never imagined being this wanted, or allowing myself to want to be wanted. He leans in for a kiss. I think the only thing stopping him from crushing our bodies together is the camera resting between us.
Our lips collide and I caress his tongue, tasting him, feeling him moan and growl as he tastes me. He slides his hands around to my ass, then he leans back.
“We need to get out of here,” he growls. “I need you somewhere private.”
“All to yourself, huh?”
He nods, not joking, jaw clenched so hard like it might crack. “So badly.”
I turn and walk toward the house, taking his hand. I want to savor this, to relish in it. And I also want to rip off the Band-Aid so that I know we can have sex without me constantly having self-defeating thoughts.
“Meet me in there,” I murmur, nodding toward the bedroom. “I’ll just check on Mira.”
He walks by me, his hand gliding over my ass. He lingers, squeezing. I arch against him. He stares at me like he’s an addict and I’m his drug, and that makes me feel even hotter.
When he’s gone, I softly push Mira’s door open. She’s lying on her side, sleeping softly, curled up in a patch of sunlight like a little kitten.
We’ve got the sensors, the cameras. We’re safe.
I step into my bedroom. Rhett is standing facing the door, his hands at his sides. When I walk in, he sucks in a hungry breath, his eyes wide and full of desire. I softly shut the door, lay my camera down, then rush to him.
He wraps his arms around me as I throw myself against him. He lifts me up, groaning as his hands find my ass. I shift against him, my body aching so much it feels tight and sensitive, my entrance slick and tingly as we grind together.
He sits on the bed, and I ride him the whole way. I twitch my hips and grind against him, kissing him harder. I just want this so badly. Is there something wrong with that? Too fast to think, to fear, to doubt.
He grips my hips and lifts me slightly. My hands go to his belt and I untie it.
“Somebody’s in a rush,” he snarls, looking deep into my eyes.
“I just want you.” I breathe hard. “Are you going to shame me for that?”
“Maybe I want you to slow down, to savor every fucking second,” he growls, then he stands, lifting me as though I’m weightless. He lays me on my back on the bed. “Maybe I need to taste you first.”
My legs wriggle like they’ve got a mind of their own. Heat tickles between my thighs, my folds grinding against my underwear.
“Hmm?” He snarls.
“It sounds like somebody needs to be in control.”
“It sounds like somebody wants me to.”
He grabs my jeans and quickly undoes the button, then pulls them down to my ankles. He doesn’t pull them off all the way though. He’s fallen to his knees at the edge of the bed, staring at my sex.
“Fuck, you’re wet already.”
“What?” I ask, pushing up on my elbows.
He reaches forward, pushes against my underwear, rubbing my clit and my lips, causing mind-numbing pleasure. I writhe against him.
“Your underwear has got a big, beautiful fucking wet spot on it,” he groans. “Were you out there getting wet for me, Elle?”
He thumbs my clit through the thin layer of cotton, rubbing it harder, faster. I twitch against him, moving my hips up and down, chasing it.
“Elle?” He demands.
“Yes,” I pant.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he snarls. “Getting yourself all soaked and ready for me. I need to see your perfect pussy.”
He pulls my jeans off the rest of the way, then glides my underwear down my legs. He spreads my legs, hands buried in my thighs. I lean up on my elbows, staring down at him, the awe on his face, the sun catching the brown in his eyes, turning them green.
He kisses up my thigh, breath shuddering over me when he lets out a savage laugh. “How can you even fucking smell good, Sunshine?”
Before I can answer, he sucks my clit into his mouth, his finger circling my entrance. The suction is hard, but the most toe-curling bit is when he tongues me lightly, caressing my clit with gentle strokes.
I clutch the sheets, rocking against his face. I can’t scream like I want to, can’t throw my head back and cry out.
Everything else fades away. It’s just the pressure between my legs and his tongue lovingly lashing it.
He pushes against my entrance with his finger. “Fuck,” he groans, mouth still around my clit. “You feel so fucking hot. I can already imagine you stretched around my cock.”
“Do it,” I groan. “Just… do it.”
He looks up at me, shaking his head. “Not until you come just from this.” He slides his finger inside of me in one fluid motion. I gasp and arch my back as his tip finds a place inside me no one ever has.
“Like this,” he growls, moving his finger in soft circles.
I reach down and grab his wrist, twitching like he’s cast a spell on me. My thighs squeeze together as the orgasm suddenly hits, a bone-deep one that hits every part of me.
He leans forward and catches my scream against his shoulder. I bite down, tasting sweat, tasting him. He massages my back with his other hand, groaning in my ear. “Ride that fucking hand until you’ve got nothing left. Fucking soak my hand.”
I bite down on him again. Hard. I feel my teeth pierce flesh, but he doesn’t care.
When it’s over, I fall back, dazed, my vision blurring.
Don’t think. Don’t go there. Don’t let this slow down.
“I want you to take me from behind,” I whisper, staring at the red teeth marks on his flesh.
He looks into my eyes. “Elle…”
I climb onto the bed and bend over, looking over my shoulder at him. Just like at the gym. I’ve never felt sexier in my life than when he stumbles back, staring at me in awe.
“Are you going to say no?” I taunt.