Page 32 of Inflame Me
I pull my shirt off and make my way between her legs where I rip her panties off before latching on to her clit, sucking hard as she bucks. I rest my arm over her hips, holding her down to the bed as I continue sucking with small nips in the process. She sets off like a rocket, screaming, but I don’t let up. Fuck that. I want her coming again before I take her.
“Rhys,” she pants, and my dick squeezes. Fuck, I need inside of her.
I make quick work of setting her off again, and as she erupts, I continue moving my fingers fast as my other hand puts the condom on.
“Sprite, get ready. I wanna draw this out, but can’t wait.”
Sliding inside of her is the heaven I know I don’t deserve. I shouldn’t be the one to have this right now, but I’m fucking taking it. I’ve never been a noble man and don’t plan on starting today.
The walls of her pussy clamp down on me, and I have to halt myself for a moment to hold my shit together. I can’t be coming like a fucking teenager.
“What are you …?” Her words stop as I thrust hard into her, feeling her so damn deep I’m pretty sure I may not ever want to fucking leave. “Please,” she begs.
I lose all control. It snaps like a rubber band. My hips move quickly while I latch on to her nipple and suck on it hard as her pussy squeezes me in response. Fuck, yes. I give her no reprieve, losing myself in Tanner.
I muffle her screams with my lips as her orgasm hits and mine follows. For long moments, we stay exactly like that, my lips only moving from her so I can breathe. Her pants turn me on, and I fucking want her again.
I pull out of her and roll off to the side. “Be back.” I clean up and come back to the bed.
Tanner’s eyes are closed, and her breathing is even. Fuck, she fell asleep. I climb into bed, pulling the covers over both of us then tucking her into my arms. I try not to think of why I’m doing this, allowing her slow breathing to carry me off to sleep.
I WAKE WITH a start and take in my surroundings through my grogginess. Opening my eyes, I find Rhys lying next to me, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and deep, the ripples of his chest in tune with his intakes and exhales. He’s on his back, his head pointed up to the ceiling. His side profile is strong, demanding, and pronounced. Small scars play on the side of his cheek and his neck, but between his scruff and tattoos, they are hard to see. If I wasn’t this close, I wouldn’t have seen them. They’re faint like they have been there for many, many years.
I just let this man screw me to the point that I passed out in his bed. This is not me, and it hasn’t a thing to do with his age. This is not something I would do. I don’t go to bed with random men and let them have sex with me, have them tell me they are going to tie me up. The few times I tried the tying up thing, it was with a boyfriend I fully trusted. Of course, it ended flat, but at least I tried. However, Rhys knows what he is doing. He knows exactly what places to hit on a woman’s body to make her scream. He is definitely experienced, way more so than any man I have ever been with.
He absolutely has more ink than anyone I’ve ever been with, too. There’s so much ink it covers his arms, neck, and part of his chest. I have to admit, it’s a huge turn on.
What in the hell am I doing? I can’t be with this guy. He’s scary as hell. One look from that man and I swear Superman, Batman, and Captain America would crumble to the ground and beg for forgiveness. He asked me if I trusted him, and I guess I trusted him with my body, but in reality, I don’t think so.
He was sensational, though. I haven’t had an orgasm, or I should say orgasms, like that ever. I didn’t even know I could have them to the point where all logical reasoning is completely gone, and all that is left is what you feel. It was the most wonderful euphoria I have ever experienced. Not only that, but even after waking me up through the night, this big, strong, scary man actually took care of me afterward, holding me until my tremors subsided, and then I must have passed out because I don’t remember anything after that. But it was tender and, dare I say, sweet. No, Rhys is anything but sweet. Sweet doesn’t even come close.
I need to get the hell out of here, get back to my mom, and get as far away from this man as I can. I can’t let the way me makes me feel cloud my better judgment. This man screams bad, and I have enough bad going on.
His chest is still rising and falling steadily, so I pull the sheet up, covering my naked and well-used body, and slip out of bed.
A strong hand grips my arm, stopping me. Crap.
“Where are you going?” Rhys asks.
I close my eyes and suck in deeply, sitting up on the bed with my back to him. “I’m going to check on my mom.”
His fingers flex into my flesh, giving me a slight bite of pain. The bed behind me shifts, but his touch doesn’t leave. “I’m not done with you yet.”
God, that man and his sexy, deep voice. My body trembles and screams at me to do it, and I try to block it out, but it seems to get louder and louder as the seconds tick by.
Rhys’s other hand comes to my leg and draws lazy circles with his thumb. With each movement, nerves flair to life, and I close my eyes, breathing out deeply.
“I have to go,” I tell him with what little control I have. Too bad it comes out weak and breathy. Shit.
Rhys moves his body behind me, straddling me, his front to my back, his hands around my stomach. His lips graze the curve of my neck, up and down erotically, and my head tilts, giving him better access. His hand snakes up, grabbing one of my breasts and squeezing it. Then he pulls my earlobe into his mouth and sucks hard, and sparks of want and need dance in a kaleidoscope in my belly.
“Your body’s telling me you want to stay.” He rolls my nipple between his fingers, giving it a pinch, and my body jerks. “See what I mean.”
I try my damnedest to clear the fog that is this man, but I can’t. My center is slick and throbbing. I need him to release it, to release this coil that is so tightly wound inside of me.
He wraps his arm around my hair and pulls my head back so my chin is pointing up to the ceiling. “I’m taking those fucking lips,” he growls before slamming his lips down to mine. God, I love how he just takes what he wants.
I follow his lead, fully admitting that, when I’m like this, being devoured by this man, every thought, every fear, every trouble disappears, and I feel so light. This is the feeling that I crave from him, the one that only he has been able to give me.
