But Samson didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t some blow-job queen.
He didn’t need to resort to hair tugging for her to understand his urgency. It was there in the contracted muscles of his stomach and the sounds he uttered, a sexy symphony of sighs and groans.
Rhiannon was so into it, she was startled when he drew away. “You said you want it hard?”
She nodded.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
A thrill of need and desire shook her. Her movements were less than graceful as she got into the position he’d demanded, but his groan when her ass faced him told her he didn’t care much about grace.
She heard the rip of a condom wrapper and then the bed depressed behind her. Her fingers curled into the bedspread when he parted her folds. “Are you wet?”
“Yes—Jesus.” Her fingers clenched tighter as his tongue swiped over her pussy.
Teasing laughter filled his words. “Just making sure.”
The man was sweet, but that sweetness hid a streak of filth. Pure filth.
She moaned when he thrust inside her, and he raised her ass higher as he set a steady and rough pace. He laid his palm flat on her back, pressing her upper body down so he could fuck her even harder. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he gritted out.
“It’s not enough,” she managed.
“Oh no?”
Uh-oh. That was definitely a challenge-accepted if she’d ever heard it.
He snaked his hand under her body and pulled her upright, so there wasn’t any space between their bodies, and gave her short, fast thrusts. She cried out. “Yes, perfect. More.”
His thick arm tightened around her breasts, his heavy breaths tickling her ear. “Look.” He nudged her with his forehead. “Look at us in the mirror.”
She turned her head and almost came right there and then. The full-length mirror on the wall gave her a perfect view of the two of them in profile, his much bigger body tight against hers, penetrating her. No one had ever called her a woman of small stature, but right now she looked tiny, caught up in his grip. Helpless.
He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, his pained expression reflecting back at her in the mirror. Or he was the helpless one.
Or they were both helpless.
He kept one arm around her breasts to plaster her to his front. With two fingers he opened her up to rub his thumb against her clit. A kiss glanced off her ear. “You close?”
“Yes.”
Samson guided her back down to the bed. She pressed her cheek to the pillow so she could keep watching in the mirror, gasping when he held his hand gently but firmly against her neck to keep her pinned down while he hoisted her hips higher. The biological function of sex became a cinematic masterpiece, each muscle contraction in the side of his ass and his thighs hypnotic and amazing.
The orgasm hit her hard and fast out of nowhere and she shuddered. His thrusts grew harder, rougher. She was still shivering when he groaned loudly and pushed deep inside her a final time.
Rhiannon couldn’t budge, not even when he moved off her and collapsed onto his back. All she could do was lay there in a ball of wasted energy and limp muscles as he got off the bed and dealt with the condom.
It was only when he returned to the bed that she lifted a finger, and it was mostly to sleepily let him arrange her so he could big-spoon her. His hand coasted up her arm. He had calluses that teased the hair on her flesh. “Your skin is so soft, Rhi.”
Rhi. He didn’t slip up anymore. He’d respected her demand immediately, even when he hadn’t known the story behind how Peter had tarnished the thought of a lover using her full name.
He was a good guy. The fragile bloom of hope dug its way out of the frozen ground of her heart, and she almost whimpered.
He stroked her back, settling her. There were things they needed to talk about, logistics for the morning to plan out. As if he could read her mind, he kissed her ear. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up early, and we can sneak you back into your room at Aunt Belle’s house before breakfast.”
“I asked for breakfast in my room.” She’d wanted to psych herself up before her pitch. The best way to do that was to be alone.
“Before anyone else wakes up, then.”
“Thank you.” Rhiannon meant the thank-you to apply to everything. Coming to her rescue,