“Fuck! Rhett… I’m going to cum,” I warn as he starts to pump in and out of me in time with the bobbing of his head.
He hums as if he approves which only sends me closer to the tipping point. I try to hold off, really, I do, but when I look back down at Rhett I find him still watching me closely. He’s in the moment, chasing a fantasy with me. The one where he finally gives me what I want.
I don’t try to stifle my cry of ecstasy as my release fills Rhett’s mouth.
And for the first time in alongtime, he doesn’t try to muffle me. Not with a pillow, a warning glare, or slapping a hand over my mouth.
That alone causes my orgasm to continue on long after I’d typically be done. It’s not until I’m completely spent and whimpering from oversensitivity that Rhett finally pulls away from me.
“Wow… a guy could get used to that,” I tell him breathlessly.
Rhett chuckles as he climbs up the bed beside me and collapses down by my side. I’m surprised when he kisses me on the lips and he pulls me under his arm. Rhett’s not a cuddler.
“What time did you get in last night?” he asks.
“Sometime around two.” I frown as I push away the faint pangs of panic and turn to stare up at the ceiling.
Rhett doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When he heaves a heavy sigh, I fully expect him to tell me to get up and let’s get ready for work. Instead he leans over and kisses me on the cheek. When I look back at him, Ireallylook. This isn’t like him at all.
That’s when I noticed the bruises.Allof them.
There’s a handprint purpling across his cheek. The force it must’ve taken to leave not just a red mark but to purple like that… Damn that’s impressive. It matches the deep, dark circles under his eyes and the smaller bruises covering his neck and… chest? He’s shirtless so I can see all the bruises, scrapes and cuts.They’re all shallow and most have scabbed up already but holy shit.
He’s been through the ringer.
“You’re getting blood on the sheets,” I tell him as I continue my inspection.
“Think Blair will notice?” Rhett asks, following my gaze. “Yeah, fuck, she’s definitely going to notice. I’ll throw everything in the wash before we head out this morning.”
When our eyes meet, his are still warm. There’s no emotional or physical retreating this morning and it’s weirding me out a bit.
“Want to tell me what happened?” I ask him.
Rhett’s head jerks away and he heaves out a heavy sigh. I wince, knowing that’s the one he uses when he’s annoyed.Thisis where he pulls away from me. Except, rather than withdraw his arm and sit up, he settles deeper into the bed.
“Blair didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
There’s a short pause before he admits quietly, “I made a mistake. Blair was there to make sure it wasn’t permanent.”
I close my eyes, hoping like hell that doesn’t mean what I think it does. Rhett’s been in a bad place before but this past week he’s been the worst I’ve ever seen him. And it’s my fault.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry that I pushed you too far. I shouldn’t have said?—”
Rhett rolls over and covers my mouth with his hand as he rises above me. “Stop, this isn’t your fault, it's mine. Got that?”
He stares down at me, waiting for a response. I give it to him with a nod. He lets go of my mouth but doesn’t move away again.
“I’m sorry for being an asshole…everytime that I’ve been an asshole.” Rhett swallows hard before, almost begrudging, asking, “Do you… want to go out tonight? Not to kill but just… like, dinner?”
I open my mouth to accept the invitation for an honest to god date, but I choke on the words, suddenly suspicious.
“Why? Are you dying and you’re planning to tell me over a fancy plate of pasta?”
Rhett snorts. “No. I’m not dying Santi.”
“But you never want to go into town,” I counter, sitting up abruptly. “And you don’t apologize. And you don’t kiss after?—”
