Page 25 of The Rhino's Rose

Moving toward him, I almost can’t hear the gentle ripple of water over the pound of my heartbeat. “I don’tknow what to do,” I whisper when his hands find my waist and pull me flush against him.

“Whatever feels good.” Gliding one hand up my back, he cups my head and guides my mouth to his. His tongue slips between my lips and his horn presses against the side of my face, reminding me of the pleasure he gave me when he had me grinding my clit on it.

I follow the rhythm of the kiss, pressing my pussy against his rock-hard length. The thick width of it spreads me, my clit roaring to life at the contact.

His chest rumbles, the vibrations radiating through me. The hand at my waist travels down to my backside, kneading my squishy flesh before sliding between my legs.

I gasp into his mouth when his finger slides inside my pussy, then whimper when it withdraws.

“I’m going to give you everything you need,” he says, entering me with two fingers, then, on the next stroke, adding another. He swivels his wrist, making his fingertips brush against something inside me that has me rocking against him. “One more, beautiful.” Before it registers in my brain, his fingers withdraw, then slide inside me again, stretching me wider.

One more.

Four long, thick fingers fill me, the base of them nestled between my lips. I’m so full, but I want more. I need more. Gripping his shoulders, I grind on him, rolling my clit along his shaft. With each downward movement, his hand eases deeper inside me, filling me with an erotic burn. The first flicker of orgasm tingles beneath my clit, then goes off likea bomb inside me. Panting and writhing, I come until I can barely breathe from the onslaught of pleasure.

His fingers slip out of me as the last ripple of orgasm fades, then his hands are on my waist again, lifting me, guiding my entrance to the head of his cock. He doesn’t push inside or pull me onto him, just looks into my eyes and waits, giving me the choice.

“Yes.” The word leaves me on a breath as I wiggle downward. The tip of his cock slips inside me easily. Then those two protruding ridges press against my labia, stretching me open to take them. “Oh, gods…” I moan as their hard, bumpy texture ignites every nerve ending they touch. And when they press against that extra-sensitive spot inside me, I cry out as I come, hard and fast.

“I love it when you come.” His deep, gravelly voice sends a shiver through me. Holding me tight, he pushes deeper inside me, then eases back and goes even deeper. In and out, in and out, each stroke dragging his ridges over sensitive spots I didn’t know I had, pushing me closer to coming again. “You feel good, squeezing me so tight, taking me so deep.”

“More,” I pant, even though I don’t know how I can possibly take more of him inside me. But I want it. I need it. “Please.”

One big thumb finds my clit, rubbing it fast and hard, pushing me into another orgasm as he thrusts impossibly deeper. Grinding and jerking against him, I pant and moan, riding the endless wave of climax. Waterslaps against us, our fucking sending it sloshing out of the tub.

“Fuck,” he groans, the hand on my hip gripping me tight, holding me in place as heat flares inside me, his cock throbbing and expanding until I gasp from the fullness of it.

“What-what’s happening?”

“The bloom,” he says, wrapping his arms around my back and holding me against his chest, his hips still pumping his cock inside me. “It won’t last long, but I can’t stop it. Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s—” My breath stutters as the spiral hits, and I’m comingagain, this one a slow wave of sensual bliss that doesn’t end until his cock stops fluttering inside me. “What was that?”

“The bloom,” he says again, kissing my forehead. “That ring at the head of my cock flares when I come.”

“Oh! Like a flower blooming.”

“Exactly like that.”

“That’s kind of perfect, isn’t it, with me being your Rose?”

He gently lifts my chin, a smile on his face when our eyes meet. “It is, and you are.”

“The bloom, does it happen every time?” I ask, trailing my fingers over his wet, leathery skin. Just thinking about it brings my clit online, and I wiggle on top of him to get some pressure.

“Every time, my sweet Rose.” Still buried inside me, his cock thickens. Then his hands are on my hips, andhe’s stroking deep inside me again, sending water slapping onto the bathroom floor.

A week or so later

CORNELIUS

I’m already out of bed and pulling on pants by the time Rose lifts her sleepy head from the pillow at the heavy rap of knuckles on the front door. The sound of heavy feet landing on the driveway next door woke me faster than any weekday alarm ever has.

“Is someone knocking?” She reaches for her phone from the side table, making an adorable huff when she sees the time. “Who in the world is at our door at six on a Sunday morning?”

Our door.If I had time, I would show her how much her use of “our” means to me.

“Your father.”

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