Page 100 of Against The Tide

I cannot breathe. I cannot speak. If it wasn’t for his hold on me, I would already be puddled at his feet. This is not what I came here for. It’s not why I came to find him, but now it’s all I can think about.

I want him. Need him. Over me. Under me. I don’t care, so long as he’s inside me.

“Doc…” I tremble when his fingers press deeper while stroking over my center. “Rhett…”

“God, your pussy is so hot,” Rhett groans over my lips before licking into my gaping mouth.

At the same time, he releases his hold on me, and before I can whine, he nudges my legs apart and tears the crotch of my tights. The sound alone makes me whimper while searching out the flushed heat of his body on mine. My hands abandon their endeavor at keeping me upright and clumsily push down on the top of his sweatpants, dragging them down over his lean hips and muscular ass.

“Fuuuuck,” Rhett hisses long and low when I fist his erection with my trembling hand, my thumb rounding the tip to spread the bead of precum.

Meanwhile, he continues stroking up and down my pussy, pressing harder, avoiding my clit as I clench with need for him. Teasing, he scissors his fingers over my panties. He’s driving me insane with how much I crave him. My frustration tightens my hand around his girth as I work the length from root to tip again and again until his every inhale is released as a curse that vibrates down my throat.

“Fuck, baby…” Biting my lip, he groans.

The flat of his fingers tap at my pussy. Once. Twice. Again and again, getting harder until I’m on my tiptoes with no other way to expel the intense push, pull, throb, and clench of my body. My core pulses with a want so fierce that my bruising heart threatens to implode along with my burning lungs.

I’m about to beg him to fuck me, when Rhett pulls away, his hands grasping my face roughly before he bites down on my lip with a low growl. Without warning, he spins me around, teeth pulling with smarting harshness. My head falls back on his shoulder as he presses my front to the beam and his hand closes around my throat, pinning me to him as he licks down the side of neck. His other hand pulls my dress up, and as he continues nipping down my neck, lowering himself behind me, he guides his dick to my entrance.

“Panties,” he mutters, grinding his groin into my ass.

With trembling hands, I fist the crotch of my underwear and pull it to the side.

“Good girl,” he growls against my neck, and the praise melts through me like liquid fire, barely able to suck in a breath before he thrusts deep, hitting home as my entire body shoves up the wooden pole. “That’s my good girl.”

On my tiptoes, I have no control. Rhett is so deep that hot, unrelenting frissons of pain spark through every cell of my body, an ache that swells in my throat and mutes my cries as he holds still, allowing me to adjust to his intrusion.

“Damn, sweetheart, your pussy is so tight it hurts.”

Biting down on the curve of my shoulder, he grinds and grinds until I can’t take the fullness and ache.

I’ll feel him for days.

I want to feel him for days.

Forever.

He’s so much. Too much… I need reprieve and relief, and yet, I want him deeper and harder, even as he pulls out and slams home again and again. The pain sparks and ebbs, glowing brighter with every thrust until my feet are planted on his, the tips of my ballerina pumps balancing precariously on the toes of his sneakers.

“Doc.”

“Sunshine.”

“God.”

A guttural growl vibrates from his lips as his hand tightens around my throat, thumb pressing to my pulsing jugular as he sucks and bites the length of my collarbone. His other hand finds one of mine, bringing it down as he cups my pussy and uses my fingers to rub over my clit.

“Fuck…” The curse escapes me on a gritted mewl, and I feel him smile as he presses his mouth to the side of my jaw. “Fuck.”

Stroking up my throat, he picks up the pace of his thrusts. My knees start to go weak while he cups my jaw, turning my face to the side and tilting it up so he can lick over my mouth, tracing over my lips with the tip of his tongue like our fingers are massaging around his dick.

“Oh God!” I cry into his mouth when my legs give, and he’s holding me up. I’m right there, teetering on the edge of something catastrophic when Rhett slows to long, deliberate strokes that pull me back from the brink inch by agonizing inch.

“Not yet,” he rasps against my neck.

“Rhett, please⁠—”

“When I say, sunshine.”