Chapter 7 Emma #2
I slide my hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my palm—steady, strong, but faster now.
“You feel safe,” he murmurs against my skin.
I close my eyes. “With you… I do.”
His breath leaves him in a slow exhale, like that’s the thing he needed to hear. Like it anchors him too.
I’m trembling, not from cold—the fire’s been crackling low in the hearth for hours—but from the sheer size of him pressed so close.
Rhett’s body is a wall of heat and hard muscle, his flannel shirt long discarded, his skin rough with scars and dark hair that trails down his chest and disappears beneath the waistband of his sweats.
We’re lying on our sides in his big, creaky bed, facing each other, noses almost touching.
My heart is slamming so hard I’m sure he can feel it through my ribs.
His calloused palm cups my cheek, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth where he kissed me breathless only minutes ago. That kiss had been slow at first, careful, like he was afraid I’d break. Then it turned hungry. Now his dark eyes are nearly black in the firelight, pupils blown wide.
“You still with me, little one?” His voice is gravel dragged over stone, low and rough.
I nod, swallowing. “Yes.”
“Yes what?” He lifts one dark brow.
My cheeks burn. “Yes… Daddy.”
The word feels filthy and perfect on my tongue. His nostrils flare. A muscle jumps in his jaw.
“Good girl.” He leans in and kisses me again—deeper this time, tongue sliding against mine in a slow, claiming rhythm that makes my thighs clench.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
“I’m gonna take real good care of you tonight, Emma.
You just breathe and tell me if it’s too much. Promise?”
“I promise.”
He rolls me gently onto my back, coming over me like a storm cloud, caging me with thick forearms braced on either side of my head.
His weight stays on his elbows—he’s so careful not to crush me—but I still feel every solid inch of him pressing me into the mattress.
The coarse hair on his chest scrapes my sensitive nipples through the thin cotton of my borrowed shirt. I whimper.
Rhett’s mouth finds my throat, beard scratching deliciously as he kisses down the column of my neck, then lower, nosing the neckline of my shirt aside so he can suck a bruise into the soft swell of my breast. My back arches. He growls against my skin.
“These little tits are perfect,” he mutters, voice muffled. “Been dreamin’ about them since the first night you slept here.”
He drags the shirt up and over my head, tossing it somewhere in the dark.
Cool air hits my skin and I shiver. His big hands cover my breasts completely, thumbs circling my nipples until they’re tight, aching points.
Then his mouth is there—hot, wet suction—and I cry out, fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair.
He spends long minutes on my breasts, licking and sucking and scraping his teeth just enough to make me gasp, until I’m writhing beneath him, thighs rubbing together, slickness soaking through my panties.
When he finally lifts his head, his lips are swollen and shiny. “Need to see all of you, baby.”
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties and drags them down my legs in one slow pull. I instinctively try to close my thighs, suddenly shy, but he catches my knees and spreads them wide, settling his hips between them.
“Look at you,” he rasps, eyes fixed between my legs. “So pretty and wet already. This little pussy’s never had anything inside it, has it?”
I shake my head, biting my lip. “No.”
He groans, low and pained. “Gonna be the first. And the only.”
His hand slides down my belly, rough fingertips tracing the seam of me. I jolt at the contact. He parts me gently, middle finger circling my clit in slow, slippery loops until my hips are lifting, chasing the pressure.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let Daddy make you feel good first.”
He works one thick finger inside me—slow, so slow—watching my face the whole time. There’s a slight stretch, a delicious burn, but it’s nothing compared to the ache building low in my belly. He curls that finger, stroking a spot that makes my toes curl and a broken moan tear out of my throat.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growls. “Gonna need to open you up real careful.”
He adds a second finger, scissoring gently, stretching me while his thumb keeps working my clit in steady circles. I’m panting now, hips rocking, hands clutching the sheets. The wet sounds are obscene in the quiet cabin.
When he finally withdraws his fingers, I whine at the loss. He shushes me with a kiss, then sits back on his heels between my thighs. His hands go to his belt. The clink of the buckle makes my pulse spike.
He shoves his jeans and boxers down just enough. His cock springs free—heavy, thick, veined, the head flushed dark and already glistening. My eyes widen. It’s… huge. Much bigger than his fingers. The sight of it makes my inner walls flutter with equal parts nerves and want.
“Rhett…” My voice shakes. “I don’t—I don’t know if it’ll fit.”
He leans down, forearms bracketing my head again, and kisses me soft and slow. “It’ll fit, baby. I’ll make it fit. You were made for me.”
He notches the broad head at my entrance, rubbing it up and down my slit, coating himself in my wetness. Every pass over my clit makes me whimper.
“Eyes on me,” he orders, voice rough. “Wanna see your face when I take you.”
I lock my gaze with his. He pushes—just the tip—and my breath catches at the stretch. It burns, but it’s a good burn, the kind that promises more. He stops, letting me adjust, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle ticking.
“Breathe, little one. In… out…”
I do as he says. He sinks in another inch. Then another. The fullness is overwhelming—pressure, heat, the impossible thickness of him splitting me open. My nails dig into his shoulders.
“Too big,” I gasp.
“You’re takin’ me so good,” he growls, voice strained. “Look at you, stretchin’ around Daddy’s cock like you were born for it.”
He rocks gently, never forcing, just feeding me another inch at a time. Sweat beads on his brow, drips onto my collarbone. His arms tremble with restraint. When he’s finally buried to the hilt, hips flush with mine, he stills completely.
We’re both shaking.
“Feel that?” he rasps, voice wrecked. “That’s all of me inside you. You did that, baby. Took every inch.”
I can feel him throbbing deep inside me, the blunt head pressed against something that makes my toes curl. Tears prick my eyes—not from pain, but from how full, how claimed I feel.
He kisses them away. “You okay?”
I nod frantically. “Move. Please.”
He pulls back the tiniest bit, then slides back in—slow, deliberate. The drag of him against my walls is exquisite torture. Again. And again. Each stroke a little deeper, a little faster, until I’m moaning with every thrust, legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.
“That’s my girl,” he grits out. “Takin’ Daddy so perfect. Fuck, you’re grippin’ me so tight.”
His rhythm turns rougher—still controlled, but harder, hips snapping forward now, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the cabin. The headboard thumps against the wall. I’m climbing fast, pleasure coiling tight in my belly.
“Rhett—Daddy—I’m—”
“Come for me,” he growls against my ear. “Come all over my cock. Let me feel it.”
One more deep thrust, his pubic bone grinding against my clit, and I shatter—back arching, cry ripping out of my throat as I pulse around him, wave after wave of blinding pleasure. He fucks me through it, pace turning erratic, ragged breaths against my neck.
“Gonna fill you up,” he snarls. “Mark you inside where no one else will ever touch.”
He slams home one last time and stills, cock pulsing, flooding me with heat. I feel every thick spurt, feel him claiming me from the inside out. His groan is broken, almost pained, as he empties himself deep.
For long minutes we stay locked together, breathing hard, sweat-slick skin pressed tight. He kisses my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth.
“Mine,” he murmurs, voice soft now, reverent. “All mine.”
I smile against his beard, boneless and blissed-out. “Yours, Daddy.”
I’m shaking so hard the mattress creaks beneath us.
Rhett’s still buried to the hilt inside me, thick and throbbing, stretching me to the absolute limit.
Every tiny shift of his hips sends fresh sparks up my spine.
My thighs are already trembling around his waist, slick with sweat and my own arousal, but he doesn’t move yet—he just watches me with those dark, predatory eyes, letting me feel every brutal inch of him claiming space I didn’t know I had.
“Still with me, baby girl?” His voice is wrecked, gravel and smoke. One massive hand wraps around my throat—not squeezing, just holding, thumb pressed to the frantic pulse there like he’s counting my heartbeats.
I nod, lips parted, barely able to speak. “Y-yes, Daddy.”
His mouth crashes down on mine, devouring, teeth clashing, tongue fucking into me the same way his cock is about to. When he pulls back, a thin string of spit connects our lips for a heartbeat before it snaps.
“You’re gonna take everything I give you tonight,” he growls against my ear. “Every goddamn inch. Every thrust. Every drop I pump into this tight little virgin cunt. You hear me?”
“Yes—please—”
He rears back suddenly, big hands gripping the backs of my knees and folding me in half until my thighs are pinned against my chest. The new angle drives him impossibly deeper; I feel the blunt head kiss my cervix and cry out, half pain, half blinding pleasure.
“Fuck, look at that,” he rasps, eyes locked between us where we’re joined. “Stretched so wide around me. That pretty pink pussy’s sucking me in like it never wants to let go.”
He pulls out almost to the tip—slow, deliberate—letting me feel the drag of every thick vein, every ridge—then slams back in hard enough that the headboard cracks against the wall.
I scream, nails raking bloody trails down his shoulders.
He doesn’t flinch. Just does it again. And again.
Each brutal thrust bottoms out with a wet slap, balls smacking my ass, pubic bone grinding my swollen clit.
“Too much?” he snarls, but he doesn’t slow down. If anything, he goes harder, hips pistoning like a machine, sweat dripping from his brow onto my breasts.
“No—don’t stop—Daddy, please—”
“That’s my good fucking girl.” His hand leaves my throat to grab my jaw, forcing my eyes to stay on his. “You look at me while I ruin you. While I make this cunt mine forever.”
He shifts his angle just enough that the fat head of his cock drags relentlessly over that spot inside me—the one that makes my vision white out. I’m sobbing now, incoherent, thighs quivering uncontrollably. My orgasm is building too fast, too big, like a wave I can’t outrun.
“Gonna come already?” He laughs, low and filthy. “Haven’t even started yet.”
He reaches between us, rough thumb finding my clit and rubbing fast, merciless circles. The dual assault—his cock pounding deep, thumb working my clit—snaps something inside me.
I come so hard I nearly black out.
My whole body locks up, inner walls clamping down on him like a vise. I scream his name until my voice cracks. He fucks me through it without mercy, drawing the orgasm out until I’m shaking, tears streaming, begging him to stop and never stop at the same time.
When the worst of the spasms finally ease, he doesn’t let up.
“Not done with you yet,” he grits out. “Gonna fuck you raw till you can’t walk tomorrow.”
He flips me without warning—pulls out just long enough to manhandle me onto my stomach, yanks my hips up so my ass is in the air, face pressed into the pillow that still smells like him. One huge hand fists my hair, arching my back, while the other spreads me open.
“Look at this messy little hole,” he growls. “Dripping for more. Greedy thing.”
He slams back inside in one vicious thrust. I scream into the pillow, fists twisting in the sheets. This angle is deeper, meaner—he’s hitting places I didn’t know existed. Each stroke is punishing, hips snapping forward so hard my whole body jolts.
“Say it,” he demands, yanking my head back by the hair until my spine bows. “Say who this cunt belongs to.”
“You—Daddy—it’s yours—”
“Louder.”
“Yours! It’s yours—only yours—please—”
He roars, pace turning feral. The wet, filthy sounds of him fucking into me fill the cabin—slapping skin, my choked sobs, his guttural curses. I feel him swell even thicker inside me, impossibly harder.
“Gonna breed you,” he snarls against my ear. “Fill this tight virgin pussy so full you’ll be leaking me for days. Gonna mark you inside where no one else will ever reach.”
The words shove me over the edge again.
I come a second time—violent, shattering—clenching so hard around him he curses brokenly. My vision tunnels. I’m shaking, boneless, only his grip on my hips keeping me upright.
He slams in one last time burying himself to the root. His cock pulses, thick and hot, and I feel the first heavy spurt flood me. Then another. And another. He groans like he’s dying, hips jerking with each jet, pumping me so full I can feel the warmth spreading deep inside.
He keeps grinding against me even after he’s spent, milking every last drop, smearing it deeper, claiming every inch.
When he finally stills, he doesn’t pull out. Just collapses over me, caging me with his huge body, beard scratching my shoulder as he presses slow, reverent kisses along my neck.
“Mine,” he rasps, voice raw. “All fucking mine.”
I’m wrecked—sore, trembling, overflowing with him—but I turn my head just enough to meet his eyes.
“Yours, Daddy,” I whisper. “Always.”
He kisses me then—slow, deep, possessive—like he’s sealing a vow.
And I know he means every brutal, beautiful second of it.