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“Wait,” she says as soon as I’m ready to toss her on the bed and have my way with her.
“What?” I growl out, my body losing the fight to stay in control.
“I want to feel all of you tonight.”
“You will.”
“No,allof you. I’m on the pill.” She moves toward the bed, and slides onto it.
No condom. Fuck me.
I’m so clean, I’m snow. On a groan I tell her that.
As I stalk closer to the bed, I stall. My Rhiannon,myRhi, eyes a deep color like the Earth that's uprooted me, and a smile that fucking engulfs me, sprawled out, willing and ready for me.
This is the moment I should panic and freak out. I should fight with myself and tell myself I’m not good enough for her.
I should run. But, I might die, if I don't have her.
“Rhiannon,” I murmur, climbing onto the bed, “I’ve thought about you way more than I should have over the years. Late at night, taking matters into my own hands.” I pump my cock for emphasis.
“Me too.”
Her admission blind sides me.
“You used to touch yourself and think about me?”
“So many nights, Xavier.”
And there’s no going slow now. There’s no taking my time.
I poise myself at her entrance, and she winds her long legs around my back. And I slide in, like sliding into home plate for the victory game. And it feels so good. Too good. Skin on skin.
As soon as she pulls my lips to hers, all thoughts of revenge vanish. And my mind’s at peace. Now, it’s all feeling. The tugs and pulls of our bodies. The way her fingernails dig into my ass cheeks. The contact, the need and want, the desire filling up the room.
The way I can’t stop gazing down on her as I pump and pump. Push and push. Fuck and fuck.
I’m ready to throw in the towel, wave the white flag in surrender if she keeps hitting me with that look in her eyes. Desperation. Longing. As if I hung the moon for her. As if I would give my life for her.
I can’t breathe, because my chest constricts with words like forever and soul mate. I can’t breathe, because for one tiny fraction of a second, I think about all the possibilities of what if.
What if I set her free?
What if I say fuck my plan?
What if I marry her? And then thoughts of Rhiannon as my wife flit through my brain as I keep thrusting with all I have. Rhiannon raising a family I give her. Rhiannon every night in my bed.
She runs her fingers through my hair, and I groan into her mouth, fucking her into the bed.
My one track mind is out of whack, and I zero in on the sight of her fabulous, glorious, too-perfect-for-me tits. The way the nipples point right at me. The fullness. Their light bounce as I slam into her with all my might.
“You have such nice fucking tits. Play with them for me.”
She does, tugging, plucking, and squeezing her nipple, until she moans even louder.
I keep delivering all my promises of making this girl come a few times tonight. I slip my hand between our heated bodies, and find her clit, rubbing it with my thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure, and pushing on it in tempo with each rock of my cock.
I imagine myself with her. And then, I close my eyes—tight. So tight. Tight like her pussy tight. But her face won’t leave me. And it never has. It never will.
