Page 48 of Restored By You

When I’ve taken all of him, seated flush against him and full to the point of aching, I start to move. Slow rolls of my hips at first, savoring the drag of him inside me. His hands slide to my ass to help guide the rhythm. I brace my palms on his shoulders and ride him, chasing the angle that lights me up.

“That’s it,” he breathes, watching my face. “Just like that. Fuck, baby, look at you.”

I pick up the pace. His hips start to meet mine, thrusting up as I come down, and the new depth of it has me crying out. My nails dig into his shoulders as the tension coils tight and hot low in my belly, faster than I expect, my rhythm going ragged as I climb—

“Rhett, I’m close.”

And that’s when he decides he’s done letting me lead. He wraps an arm around my back and flips us. I land on the mattress with a squeak that dissolves into laughter, breathless and startled, Rhett looms over me with a grin that’s pure trouble.

“My turn,” he says.

I gape at him. “I said—”

“And you did.” He kisses down my sternum, my stomach, settling between my thighs and hooking my knees over his broad shoulders. “Best gift I’ve ever gotten. Now, let me thank you for it, sweetheart.”

A moment later, his mouth is on me and I forget every clever thing I was going to say.

He devours me. Flat, firm strokes of his tongue through my folds, circling my clit, and when he seals his lips around it and sucks, my back arches clean off the bed. He locks an arm over my hips to hold me down, pinning me right where he wants me. He works me to the point I’m crying out, falling apart as the orgasm I was chasing crashes over me hard and fast, my thighs shaking on either side of his head. He stays with me until I’m gasping and boneless against the sheets.

When he finally kisses his way back up my body, I pull him down to me, tasting myself on his mouth. I feel him hard and hot against my thigh.

“I don’t—” I start, breathless, my mind catching up to the heat of the moment. Raw. “We don’t—I didn’t bring anything.”

“I’m clean,” he says against my lips, no hesitation. His hand smooths up my side, his eyes finding mine. “I haven’t been with anyone else in a long while.” He brushes a curl off my face. “But if you want me to stop, or run out and find somethin’, I will. Just say the word.”

“I’m clean, too. And on the pill.” My hands slide up his back, pulling him closer. “I trust you.”

“Best fuckin’ birthday ever,” he groans low, kissing me deep.

Then he flips me again. I gasp as he guides me onto my hands and knees, his palms sliding down my spine, over the curve of my ass. He lines up behind me, dragging the head of his cock through my slick heat once, twice, and then he pushes in—all of him, in one long, slow stroke—and the angle has me biting the pillow.

“Yes, baby.” His hands grip my hips, holding me flush against him, seated so deep I can barely breathe. “This what you wanted?”

“Yes.” I push back against him. “Please, Rhett, fuck me.”

And he does just that. He sets a rhythm that’s hard and relentless, one hand fisted in my curls, the other locked on my hip, pulling me back to meet every thrust. The room fills with the sound of skin on skin, low groans, helpless moans muffled into the bedding. He drives into me at an angle that drags against something deep inside me and that delicious tension builds all over again, tighter and higher than before.

“You’re gonna come again,” he growls, reaching around to circle my clit with his thumb. “I can feel you. Come on, beautiful. One more. Give it to me.”

The dirty demand, the drag of his cock, his thumb on my clit—it’s too much. And exactly enough. I shatter, moaning his name as I clench around him.

“That’s my girl—fuck!” His rhythm falters, his hips slamming into me once, twice, and then he pulls out with a ragged hiss. I feel him spill hot across my lower back as he comes, his hips nestled against my ass.

For a moment neither of us moves. Only the sound of our heavy breathing to be heard. “Don’t move,” he murmurs.

I couldn’t if I wanted to.

I hear him pad to the bathroom, the water running, and then he’s back, warm cloth in hand, cleaning me up with careful strokes down my back, unhurried. When he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and eases me under the sheets, gathering me against his chest, my face resting over his thundering heart.

“Best. Birthday. Ever,” he says quietly, planting a tender kiss to the top of my head.

I laugh, tired and thoroughly wrecked and stupidly happy. “It was supposed to be your gift and you did all the work.”

“Mm. Guess you’ll owe me.” His hand splays over my ass, squeezing. “I’ll think of something.”

A giggle spills out of me. Fine by me, I think to myself.

He settles beside me, his breath evening out, and I lie here in the dark, wide awake despite the exhaustion pulling at me, listening to the quiet.