Looking back over the last couple of months, it’s easy to see that’s exactly what he’s done, even on an everyday kind of level.
My body is on fire for this man.
I barely park the car outside his house before I bound out of the vehicle and up the path to his front door.
As soon as his arse is across the threshold, I close the door behind him and press him against the wood paneling. “I want to be the woman in that article.”
The adoration that shines in his blue eyes makes my knees go weak as he cups my face. “Youarethe woman in that article,Rhiannon. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you’ll step into the greatness waiting for you.”
My fingers twitch with an urge to trace the birds on my collarbone, or to pluck at the skin around my thumbnail. Instead, I squeeze my body against him. I’m overflowing with gratitude, fear, love—I need to translate it into something my body understands, so I crash my mouth onto his in a frantic, needy kiss.
Sensing my urgency, he opens for me, his tongue ready to battle with mine in a deep and moving clash. He turns me, so I’m against the door, and before I can voice a single thought, he’s tugging my leggings down.
I don’t know how he does it, but my shoes land with thuds against his floor, and my bottoms are tossed aside. As he moves, he places soft kisses along the inside of my thighs making me moan and shiver.
“Robert.” My voice is breathy, and not because I just came from losing a rugby game. “I…” I don’t want to tell him to stop. And I don’t want to stop the moment of passion by drawing his attention to the fact he’s on his knees. But part of me wants to make sure he’s really okay about doing this here and—fuuuuuuck.
He’s thrown my thigh over his shoulder so I’m leaning against the door, which I hope with everything I have helps support his balance somehow because he’s got one hand braced against the door and is using the other—and his tongue—to spread me for him.
Every nerve in my body fires at once—not from surprise, but from how completely I trust him to know his limits.
There’s a battle being waged in my body, the desire to explode all over this man’s curious tongue, and to make sure he’s comfortable kneeling on what I already know is an uncomfortable prosthesis.
Fuck.
No matter how many times he says he knows his own limits, it doesn’t take away the desire to make his life less painful.
“Are… a-a-are you sure y-y-you’re okay down there?”
He growls against my pussy, the vibrations sending sparks shooting up my spine. “I’m not getting up until I destroy you.” His grin up at me is wicked, but there’s nothing brittle in it. He’s not proving a point; he’s choosing this.
More sparks shoot through the deepest parts of my body as he laps at my clit with a hungry tongue. Every pulse of pleasure feels like color blooming under my skin. After a few moments of building me into a frenzy, a frustrated groan meets my ears.
Without saying a word, he maneuvers us so he’s sitting with his back against the door, and I’m straddling his face. His palms clasp my ass with an iron-clad grip that tells me he’s not for moving.
Now that his back is supported, he has both hands free, so he slides two fingers inside me, finding my G-spot with ease.
Fuuuuuck.
I lean my head forward, to rest on the door, placing my hands as though I was going to do a push-up on the wall for stability. But it’s fruitless. The man has made me a trembling wreck in a matter of seconds. My legs shake, a film of sweat covers my forehead, and my muscles twitch with the anticipation of my impending release.
I ride his eager tongue with abandon, grinding my crotch against his face. I should probably give more thought to whether or not he’s breathing easily, but the needy desperation simmering in my veins has entered the chat and kicked common sense and rational thinking out the door.
It doesn’t take long before my orgasm slams into me, making me scrunch my eyes closed while tiny white dots dance behind my eyelids.
Fucking hell. I should be ashamed of how I’m crushing this man’s face, but I want to wring every single last tiny shred of pleasure out of this orgasm before I let him stop eating me out.
When I can no longer support my own weight, he guides me down until I’m sitting in his lap, then he holds me against his chest.
His chest rises steadily beneath my cheek. For the first time in months, my body isn’t the only thing that feels safe.
Maybe trusting someone else to catch me every now and then isn’t such a bad thing after all.
CHAPTER 53
Robert
Idon’t know what’s more awkward, the fact Rhiannon’s brother is glaring at me as he slow chews his roast lamb dinner or that Big Daddy Mike Morrigan is nowhere to be seen. I offered to stay at home, to give Rhiannon time and space to process the last week or so with her family, but, to her enormous credit and indelible strength, she said no.
