Page 56 of Theirs for the Holidays

I pinch and twist one nipple, crying out softly when the slight pain of it mingles with the rush of pleasure.

“Don’t forget the other one,” Rhett tells me, and I switch sides, showing my other nipple the same attention.

I’m panting hard now, practically whining at the intoxicating sensation that’s taking over me. My legs are spread wide, and I fuck myself back onto the dildo, the wet slapping sounds echoing over the shower now.

“Harder,” Rhett directs. “Show me how hard you like it, Violet.”

I’m lost in a haze of pleasure, in the depth of his gaze, in the heat of this moment. All I can do is give in to him, fucking myself back even harder and faster. I’m really going for it, the plushness of my ass slapping against the wall with each thrust as I take the dildo all the way into me.

Like this it’s easy to forget that this is just a silicone toy. Rhett’s not even touching me, but the intensity of his gaze and the power of his words are enough to make me feel like he’s the one controlling this, the one touching me and fucking me.

My body melts for him, wetness dripping down my thighs and not from the shower.

His gruff voice keeps directing me, keeps telling me what to do, and I keep touching myself, heeding his every instruction.

“Just like that,” he murmurs. “Fuck, Violet. The way you look when you’re taking it. So fucking good.”

“Please,” I gasp out. “Oh fuck—please, I’m so close.”

I can feel the orgasm building again, easier now than the one I was working up to before. It feels so good, the pressure growing, the tension coiling in my gut, ready to explode through me. “Please, please, please,” I moan.

“Wait,” he says. “Not yet.”

I give a groan of displeasure, but he doesn’t bend. “Keep going.”

So I do. I fuck myself more, I play with my clit. I buck between my hand and the dildo until I feel wild with the need to come.

My pussy clenches around the toy like there’s something to milk from it, and my movements become fevered and unmeasured, just desperate at this point.

I keep begging, but Rhett doesn’t give in. He watches me touch myself, watches me gasp and whimper.

“Please,” I moan. “Fuck, I need it. I’m so close, I can feel it—please.”

“How badly do you want it?” he asks, and from anyone else it might be a taunt, but from him, it’s a genuine question.

“So bad. Please let me come. Please, please, please.”

“Do it,” he finally says. “Let me see it.”

I nearly sob with relief.

My fingers fly over my clit, rubbing in firm circles designed to finally give my body what it’s been craving. That, combined with the press of the dildo into me again and again is enough.

I cry out, the sound echoing around us as the first waves of my orgasm wash over me.

“Say my name,” Rhett demands. “Say my name while you come.”

“Rhett!” I practically scream, surrendering to wave after wave of pleasure. My body shakes and trembles through it, pussy clenching around the toy, which just sparks more little ripples. I can barely breathe, and I have to reach back and grab on to the wall to keep myself upright.

My chest heaves as I suck in lungfuls of air, trying to calm my heart rate and still the spinning in my head. Every part of me feels heavy and languid, the way it always does after I come this hard.

Rhett mutters a curse under his breath, and the next thing I know, he’s striding over and stepping into the shower withme. My mouth falls open to ask what he’s doing, but before any words come out, he’s gripping my chin, making me look up at him.

His eyes burn with a heat I haven’t seen in them before, and he leans down and kisses me hard. His mouth is unyielding, firm and seeking, and he doesn’t even seem to care that he’s getting wet from the shower while he stands there.

“Who were you thinking about this time?” he asks, his words a low murmur against my lips.

“You,” I whisper back. As if there was any other answer. As if my mind could have been on anyone else with him staring into me and directing me the way he was.