Page 29 of The Fox

She grinds down, pushing her hips against my hands in an effort to prove me wrong, lips returning to my stubble.

“Amelia.” Her lips trace along my jaw, her nose grazing as she nips and soothes.

“Rhodes.”

My hand raises to drag my knuckles down the center of her; from the meeting of her clavicles, along the soft fabric covering the valley dipping between her breasts, until they reach her waistband. I circle her hips once again, my face dipping to meet hers before capturing those plush lips in my teeth. I pull, tugging and nipping, until her flesh is swollen from my sting.

The slightest moan falls into the silent room, and the sound is an explosion. I want more, I need every piece of her that she is willing to offer me, even if it means her clothes stay on. I want Amelia Conte like I want my next breath. I’m fighting a losing battle, despite the training pounded into my head, and I will gladly accept defeat if it means I win her. She’s hesitant in so many aspects of what we are. I know this has to be on her terms.

If I can’t fully consume her, I’ll bask in her pleasure.

“Ride me, Amelia.” The words are commanding. Testing. Curious. Her hips stutter as she lifts up, and I tsk. “Put your full fucking weight on me, and grind that pussy on my lap.”

“But I’ll squish you.”

“Squish me. I want all of you sitting on all of me. Full. Fucking. Weight.” I catch her eyes, and I see all the doubts there. She’s hovering, and I refuse to allow that. I want her full weight pushed against me. I want her to consume me. I know what society says about a woman of her size. I’ve sensed it since we went to the Italian restaurant; women with curves and rolls and body fat are deemed inferior. It takes a confident man to navigate those luscious valleys and soft peaks. I will not back down from this goddess on my lap.

I firmly plant her across my lap, pushing her hips until I feel her settle, her pussy nestled against my erection.

“I said ride me, Amelia. Don’t think, just listen. I want you to rub yourself against my lap until you squirm.” I move her against me, firmly grinding the heat between her thick thighs along my length.

Her eyes flutter closed as those wide hips continue to move in a rocking motion.

“Atta girl. Chase it, baby.” I watch as her head falls back, lips parting on a sigh. “Such a good girl, Amelia. You’re listening to me so well, aren’t you?”

“Rhodes,” she moans as her hips grind faster. Harder.

“Look at you,” I murmur as my hands graze her sides, my lips placing the softest kiss on the column of her throat. “Take it, Amelia. I want you desperate for me, pretty girl.”

I feel the moment her body caves, her hips widening in an effort to get closer to me. She is seeking her pleasure, owning it, and I have a front-row seat. My lips continue their path along her arched neck. Moans fall from her freely now, the whimpers growing louder as she quickens her movements. Her hands run themselves up her body before cupping her breasts.

“Squeeze them, baby. Just like that.” I grip her hips, purposely driving them. With my hands engulfed by her flesh, it is as though she has been made for me. Her head shakes back and forth, chest heaving, and I know she is right there, primed to fall. “Are you close, Amelia?”

“Rhodes.”

I will not let her hide from pleasure, from allowing herself to fall over the edge. I will catch her, protecting her from harm. “Answer me. Do you want to come?” That pink tongue darts out to moisten her lips, now chapped from her biting them, and I lean forward to capture it between my lips. I kiss her with a primal fierceness, our tongues battling for dominance until she yields.How beautifully she submits.

“Yes, please,” she breathes. “I’m so close.”

I run my nose along the column of her neck, my hands now tight on her hips in an almost punishing grip. “Good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

Her hips are frantic as she grinds on my lap, and the noises she makes will forever be ingrained into the fabric of my soul. She is a goddess shattering, and I am unworthy of bearing witness.

Placing a singular kiss at the base of her neck, I whisper against her, “My good girl. Let go, Amelia. Let fucking go.” She collapses into me, her head resting on my chest as I kiss the top of her crown. I run my hands along her back, my fingertips dancing along her spine as she catches her breath. She is pliable at the moment, completely raw and vulnerable. I will sit here as long as she needs. My arms are forever a safe harbor for her to let down the walls she has built up.

“You can keep doing that, you know?” A whisper comes from my chest, and I smile.

“Is it comforting to you when I run my hands down your back?” Her head lifts, and our eyes meet, vulnerability shining in hers.

“Very.”

This version of Amelia reminds me of the way she is at home. There is no pretense, and because of this, I am confident that my next question will be answered with the same weight I ask it with. “Was that okay? I know that it can be a bit much, especially when we’ve not discussed much of anything sexual.”

There is a pause as I see her consider what I’ve said. I know that I am a dominant man in bed. I look at submission as a gift, but it has to be given without coercion. If Amelia doesn’t feel comfortable in giving up control, then I will temper that piece of me—for her.

A lick of her lips, and then she answers.

“I have to make so many decisions every single day. I don’t ever get to simply exist, to just…” she pauses again, sighing deeply before continuing. “I was very much okay with what happened, Rhodes.”

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