Her dark hair falls forward as she slides down, lowering herself until she’s straddling my thighs, right over my softening cock. She doesn’t care that I just came, doesn’t care that she’s covered in it or that my cock is still slick.
She wraps her hand around me, gives a few slow, sure strokes, and my body reacts instantly, trying to catch up with what’s happening. She leans in, tongue tracing the head before she takes me in her mouth again, sucking, swallowing, working me back to life like she owns me.
“Fuck,” I groan, my hand sliding into her hair as I start to harden again.
Her moan vibrates against me when I slide my thumb into her pussy, and she clenches around it, hips moving against the sheets.
“Just like that,” I murmur, rubbing her clit as she sucks harder, her rhythm matching mine. A few more deep sucks and I’m hard again.
“Fuck, I need you now,” she gasps, pulling off me with a wet pop, spit glistening between us as she hovers above, eyes wild and wanting.
“Hold on,” I tell her, breath catching as she straddles me.
I fumble around the bed blindly for the condom, fingers brushing against the sheets until I find it and tear it open with my teeth. She watches me, that wicked little smile curving her lips as she takes it from me and rolls it down my tip.
Then, without a single ounce of hesitation, no warning, no teasing, she lines me up and sinks down hard.
“Holy hell, woman—a warning,” I grunt, my hands flying to her hips as I fight for control. She’s tight, hot, and every inch of me feels claimed. I try not to look at her tits swaying in front of my face, try not to groan at the way she moves, rolling her hips, adjusting, finding that perfect rhythm that has me seeing stars.
She laughs breathlessly, that teasing lilt in her voice. “You okay?”
That’s when I realize my eyes are closed.
“No,” I exhale.
She pauses, stilling on top of me, and I crack one eye open to see her smirking. “Do you want me to slow down, Suit?”
I chuckle, shake my head, and grip her hips, thrusting up into her. “No.”
That’s all the permission she needs. She moves again, faster, harder, riding me like she owns me. She moans without shame, cursing, grinding down until I’m losing my mind. She’s pure chaos in motion. There's no calculation, no restraint, no holding back, and I fucking love it.
It hits me how rare this is. I’m always the one giving. I give to my dad, my sister, my clients. I anticipate what people need before they ask. I fix things, hold shit together, carry the weight until my back feels like it’s breaking, and my mind refuses to shut off when the day is done.
I play the part of the dependable one, the controlled one, until there’s nothing left of me.
But Rhiannon? Shetakes and gives.Boldly. Shamelessly. And somehow, it feels like she’s giving back more than I’ve ever gotten in my life. And damn, it feels good to be taken care of for once.
Her pussy grips me tighter, dragging me deeper into her, and I can’t stop my body from reacting. My hands slide up her waist, over the curve of her stomach, to the swell of her breasts. I kiss her throat, her collarbone, the soft skin between her breasts. I bite, lick, leave marks I know she’ll find tomorrow and, hopefully, think of me.
“You’re so big, Cain,” she breathes, arching her back, nails digging into my chest. “You feel so good.”
“Tell me more,” I murmur against her skin, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo, something floral and warm. I want to burn it into memory.
“I want to be sore tomorrow,” she says.
“You will be.”
She rolls her hips again, grinding her clit against my pelvis, and I can’t do anything but watch. Her body’s made for this. Made for me. The sharp dip of her waist, the strength in her thighs, the curve of her ass when I grab it in both hands and give it a sharp slap.
“Yes,” she gasps, a raw sound that turns into a moan. “Yes, fuck, yes.”
A couple more spanks and she’s coming again, body shaking, her head tipping back as she cries out my name. Her walls pulse around me, dragging me to the edge with her, and I spill inside the condom with a rough curse, my whole body bowing up to meet hers.
When it’s over, she collapses on top of me, her breath stuttering against my throat. I hold her there for a minute, tracing idle circles down her spine, my heart still slamming against my ribs.
Then, against my better judgment, I say something I shouldn’t.
“Don’t you fucking sneak away again tonight.”
