High (16 page)

I feel out of place until Rhett comes up behind me and presses his lips into the back of my neck. He hands me a glass of wine and I neck half of it.

He chuckles. “What’s got you so spooked, Duchess?” He drops onto the sofa and stretches his arms along the back of it as he stares at me.

“Nothing.” I down the rest of the wine and he cocks a brow at me.

Fuck this. I prefer to stick with what I know. I put the glass down on the coffee table and climb into his lap, straddling his thighs. His expression changes, a small smile lighting his face.

His hands move to my sides, pushing under the material of my top. His hands feel so good on my skin. It’s as though I’m flammable and he’s the match, the second he touches me, sparks fly.

I grip his thick hair in my fingers and he leans in, brushing his lips over my collar bone in barely a whisper of a kiss. My body practically sighs being this close to him. I missed him. I’ve known him for a total of three weeks, and I missed him after just two days.

He pushes my top up my stomach, and I lift my arms for him to take it off, but he doesn’t. He pushes the material over my head and then pulls my arms behind my back, leaving the jumper around my biceps. I try to pull my arms forward, but I can’t. I glare at him, and he just throws me a sexy smile, that deep throaty laugh escaping his lips. He pushes one hand up between my shoulder blades, and with a quick flick of his wrist, my bra loosens. Of course, he can’t take it off because he has me trussed up like a fucking turkey. My bra hangs uselessly across my chest, leaving my tits exposed.

He shoves me backwards until my elbows are propped on the coffee table, my body straddling the gap between the sofa and table. His hands grip my waist and then his lips are on my stomach, his tongue trailing over me in ways that should be illegal. His mouth works over me until he flicks his tongue over my nipple. I bite my bottom lip. I’m too sensitive, too hot, too…everything. How does he do this to me so quickly?

His teeth skim over my nipple while he shoves my skirt up around my waist. I’m panting and moaning as he sucks and licks a path from my nipple to my throat.  My head falls back, exposing my neck to him. I hear the clink of his belt buckle, the zip of his fly before he pulls away. I lift my head, watching him as he rips his shirt over his head, every muscle rippling as he does. His hips lift as he shoves his jeans down, and then his hands are on me again, his warm palm gliding over my stomach and making me tremble in all the right places. He grips the inside of my thighs, spreading me wide. A smirk pulls at his lips as his eyes fix between my legs.

“No panties, I’ve got you well trained.”

“I was already lazy, you had it easy.”

He bites his lip, his fingers brushing over my pussy. I whimper and his gaze trails up my body, crashing into mine.

“So fucking wet for me, Duchess.” He growls as he slams two fingers inside me.

“Fuck!” My back bows as every muscle in my body tenses.

His tongue swipes up the center of my chest, his hot breaths blowing over the damp skin. “So fucking tight.” He pulls out and pushes back in until my head falls back and my eyes drift closed. So good, he feels so fucking good. “I want you wrapped around my dick.” He whispers against my skin.

His fingers leave me and he reaches behind me, wrapping his fingers around both my wrists and yanking me upright. His cock presses against me, and I roll my hips, until he slides inside me, making me moan.

His chest heaves and his jaw tenses as he pushes balls deep into me. I stay there, adjusting to him. His hold on my wrists forces me to push my chest out, allowing me very little movement.

“Ride me, Duchess.” He orders, brushing his lips across mine and nipping my bottom lip. I roll my hips, and my mouth falls open on a silent moan. I ride him, moving up and down on his cock like my fucking life depends on it.

He puts his hand on my stomach, forcing me back just enough that he can see between our bodies, and then he’s thrusting up, meeting every roll of my hips, and pushing against my stomach, forcing me to grind over him harder. His stare drifts down, his movements growing more violent and demanding as he watches himself fuck me. Sweat coats my body and my lungs falter as my body trembles uncontrollably. He forces me to fuck him like something possessed and I shatter under his touch, crying out and screaming his name.

He growls like a fucking animal, his grip on my wrists becoming painful as he stiffens, thrusting even deeper.

His fingers slowly release me and I fall forward against his chest, breathing hard.

Sleep, I need sleep.

It’s been two weeks since I brought Larry home, two weeks since I’ve partied, and for the most part, two weeks since I’ve taken any drugs. I mean, the odd sleeping pill here and there can’t be helped. I can’t put my finger on what’s changed, but it has. Something has shifted and it’s not even a conscious thought. I haven’t chosen to stay away from the drugs, I just don’t have the urge to take any. I haven’t chosen not to go out, I just don’t want to. We’ve spent every night together since the night he brought me to his flat. We eat pizza and drink wine, hang out, watch films, have sex, go for dinner, whatever. It’s fun. It’s easy. When he’s with me, he provides all the high I need. Just being around him gives me that strange sense of euphoria. Somewhere along the line, he went from being the guy I fuck to the guy that makes me happy, and that terrifies me just as much as it thrills me.

He’s leaving for New York today, and I’d be lying if I said I won’t miss him.

I watch him as he sleeps, his face more relaxed in sleep, less severe. His broad chest rises and falls steadily, his abs popping rhythmically. God, he’s like a walking orgasm. I can see his cock tenting the sheets. I grab the duvet and pull it down. I straddle his legs and lower my face, slowly dragging my tongue over the length of him. His cock twitches and I smile, slipping it between my lips and slowly sliding down until he touches the back of my throat. A low groan escapes his throat and his fingers clumsily wind into my hair.

“What time is it?” He croaks. I allow his cock to slip out of my mouth with a little pop.

“Uh, not talking time. Unless it’s dirty.” I swipe my tongue across his bell end again and his stomach muscles tense as he jerks in response.

“Shit!” He sits bolt upright, pushing me back by my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” I open my mouth to respond, but he slams his lips over mine, kissing me hard before he’s out of the bed and into the bathroom.
What the…

I stalk into the bathroom and stand in the doorway, watching him step into the shower. The water cascades over the defined muscles of his back and down his firm arse. My mind flashes through images of me clawing at that arse as he thrusts inside me and my pussy clenches, pleading with me to do something. Anything. This is the down side to having regular sex on tap…that you can actually remember participating in. 

“Did you just leave, when your cock was in my mouth?” I ask, an edge of hysteria creeping into my voice.

He glances over his shoulder and flashes me a womb clenching smile. “I’m going to miss my flight. You know there’s nothing I’d love more than to come in your mouth and fuck you raw, Duchess.”

He’s evil. Pure. Fucking. Evil. I shrug and nod. “Okay, I just had to be sure.” I say, leaving the bathroom. I hear his deep laughter echoing off the bathroom walls as I stalk back to the bed.

I’m horny enough to start dry humping inanimate objects. Apparently he doesn’t have time to fuck me, so what does every horny girl with no willing penis do?

I wrap the towel around my hips and step out of the bathroom, only to come to a screeching halt. Blake is on the bed with the covers thrown back, her legs spread and a dildo buried to the hilt in her pussy.

Her back bows off the bed, her heels digging into the mattress as her hips roll. Her eyes are closed and her teeth dig into her bottom lip as a low moan escapes her throat. My dick turns rock solid and my blood starts hammering through my veins in a frenzy. I’ve never seen anything hotter. I’m torn between ripping that toy out of her and replacing it with my dick, and not moving because watching her is so fucking hot. I move to the end of the bed so that I have a clear and direct view.

Her eyes flash open and meet mine, daring me, teasing me. My eyes trail over her tits—rising and falling with every strained breath she takes—her flat stomach, her bare pussy. She pulls the toy out, then slides it all the way back in on a breathy groan.

I yank my towel loose and she stares at my cock as I fist it, working my hand over the length. She moans louder this time, throwing her head back against the pillow. Her moans turn to cries as her movements become more erratic and desperate. “Rhett.” She cries, and I almost blow my load.

“Fuck.” I growl, crawling onto the bed and kneeling between her spread legs. Her muscles tense and she groans incoherently. My balls tighten and my muscles lock out, knocking the breath out of me. I fall forward, bracing one hand against the mattress.

“Shit!” I come hard, all over her stomach. I let go of my cock and fall onto my back on the mattress, breathing hard.

“Thought you had a flight to catch.” She says, rolling off the bed and standing over me.

I glance up at her. “I did.”

She cocks an eyebrow and brings the dildo to her lips, smirking. I narrow my eyes at her and she parts her lips, sliding the pussy covered toy into her mouth. She moans as she sucks on it and I groan in frustration. She’s a spoiled fucking brat. A hot, dirty, spoiled brat who knows how to work my cock like it’s a fucking puppet on a string.

She releases the toy with a final swipe of her tongue.

“You’re a dirty girl, Duchess.” I growl.

She tilts her head to the side. “I am.” She says as she drags one finger through the pool of come that’s running down her stomach. Her eyes lock with mine—that defiance I love so much blazing in them. My cock starts to stir again as she brings the finger to her mouth, the same way she did the toy, and slides it between her lips. She closes her eyes and lets out a little groan before sliding it back out. “But you have a plane to catch remember?”

She turns to walk away, but I jump off the bed, wrapping my arms around her and pressing my chest to her back. She spreads her legs slightly and my dick slides against her soaking wet pussy.

“The next time you put a fake dick in your pussy, I’m going to put mine in your ass and make you take them both.” Shit, the thought of fucking Blake’s ass…

She rolls her ass back against me. “Promise?”

Ah, fuck. I’m never going to catch that plane. I grab her and throw her on the bed, eliciting a high pitched squeal. Blake McQueen is the best and worst kind of distraction. 

“I’ll be back in two days.” Rhett crouches down slightly, forcing me to look at him. “Try not to get yourself killed. And no hookers or strippers.” He smirks.

I roll my eyes and then I stop myself because shit, when did I become the sad bitch who gets all mopey just because her man goes away? Fuck him. I’m going to get drunk and hire a stripper on pure fucking principle.