Page 36 of Inflame Me
I move my hands to his head, and he instantly grabs them and secures them above mine in a tight grip. I don’t know why, but I enjoy the pressure he puts on them. I like that I can forget, and he makes everything good. It’s also strange that he won’t let me touch him there, but just from looking at his scars, I can see he’s lived a rough life. He may never tell me the reason why, but I’ve never asked either so that’s on me.
He breaks the kiss. “I need to be inside you.” He rises from the bed, pulling my jean shorts and underwear from my body, my flip-flops long gone.
I prop up on my elbows and stare at the man above me as he unbuttons and unzips his pants just enough to pull his length out and sheath it with a condom, and my core clenches. It is so freaking hot that he wants to be inside of me so damn badly he doesn’t bother removing his pants. I have never felt so wanted in my life.
When his strong body again presses me down and into the bed, I raise my arms above my head just as his length plows inside of me. I scream, but quickly turn my head to press my mouth into my arm, stifling the sound. God, I hope my mother didn’t hear that.
Rhys chuckles. “Give it up.” He pulls my arm away from my mouth, putting it above my head as he ruthlessly takes my body, stroking in and out of me at a punishing pace. “This is gonna be quick,” he grunts.
His fingers move down to my aching flesh and rub quick circles in tune with his thrusts. I come apart, trying my best to hold in the noises, but some escape because the pleasure is too powerful.
With two hard thrusts so deeply I feel him bump something inside of me, Rhys stills, closing his eyes as he releases inside of me. The lines in his face are more prominent, making him look older, and the pleasure I felt twists in my stomach.
What in the hell am I doing? This man is so much older than I am, and I have never been the type of girl who has sex with a man just for fun. I can’t be doing this. Crap.
His forehead comes down to mine as we catch our breath, enjoying a small bit of reprieve.
“Rhys, I need to go check on my mom,” I tell him, breaking whatever this connection is. I wiggle myself to try to get away. I need to get away. I shouldn’t be doing this. I can’t.
His blue eyes stare down at me and he chuckles. What is he laughing at?
“Sprite, your momma already knows that I’ve been inside of you. You’re a grown-ass woman.”
I push at his chest. “Get off.” Anger overtakes me. How dare he? “So because I care that I don’t do things to disappoint my mother that makes me wrong?”
He glances down to where my hands rest on the shirt he didn’t take off. “Disappoint?” Something happens in his eyes. The fire that was there turns into fury, and it scares the ever-loving shit out me.
“Get off,” I tell him again.
He shoves off me, tearing the condom off and tossing it into a nearby garbage can. He buttons and zips his pants, anger creasing his brows.
I scurry up the bed, press my back against the headboard, and curl my knees up to my chest, feeling utterly exposed at the moment. He’s so mad, and I don’t know how to fix it.
“Rhys?” I call out.
“Sprite, don’t worry about it. You were a good lay. I’m out.” He opens the door then slams it shut behind him, the noise so loud I close my eyes and wince.
I was a good lay. My insides squeeze. It’s better to realize this now than later. Princess warned me. I just chose to listen to my libido rather than common sense.
I climb from the bed, clean myself off, and put my cloths back on, finding my flip flops by the door. My heart feels heavy, and I don’t like that feeling at all.
I enter the living room where my mother sits on the couch, her feet up and a blanket over her legs. Her eyes are open and much more alert.
Dagger comes from the kitchen, holding a glass of water, and sets it down on the coffee table that he moves closer to the couch.
“How ya feeling?” I ask my mother, ignoring Dagger. I’m sure I smell of sex, but the only opinion I care about is my mother’s.
“Actually, I’m good. Sore, but good. I can think, which I appreciate.” She gives me a faint smile as Dagger takes a seat in the recliner.
I look over to him. “You can go now. We’ll be fine.”
He strokes his long beard up and down then clicks his tongue in his mouth. “Not going anywhere.” His eyes bore into mine. “Why’d my brother go storming out of here?” he accuses, and it’s my turn to close my eyes and look away from him.
My mother places her hand on my arm. “You want to talk about it?”
“No.” I shake my head. I definitely don’t want to discuss it in front of Dagger of all people.
“Sweetheart, from the noises coming from your room, he didn’t sound upset.” Mom’s hand on my arm squeezes.
