Page 85 of Van Cort

“So, Rhett.”

He let go and nodded at her, offering West another opportunity.

West slapped her face.

She whipped it back to centre, but he could see the confusion on her brow despite the blindfold. She didn’t know who’d done it. So, he grabbed her chin and pushed her back to the tree, running his other hand down her skin until he was at the apex of her thighs.

“Who is it, Lara?” Rhett whispered, by her face.

She turned her face to look in Rhett’s direction, still confused. “You,” she said.

“Wrong.” Rhett put a hand on her ass and pinched into it, causing a yelp to leave her lips. “You think you know us, but what if what you think you know isn’t who we are? What if all this time, we’ve been playing you and who you thought you were with was the wrong one?”

She gasped as West widened her legs and drove his fingers inside her, but soon moaned when he took his lips to her neck.

“West,” she said.

It became apparent, after multiple tries, that West was crap at pretending to be Rhett. He just couldn’t do it. Rhett laughed silently and pushed him away, and somehow, without any real thought or try on the matter, he was able to pretend he was West just fine. He touched her softly and chose every point on her body that West would normally go for. She moaned and groaned as he brought the first orgasm out of her, and she whispered words that she’d normally use for West alone. There wasn’t any strain in her tone or desperation like she always used when Rhett fucked her.

“Who was it?” West asked, as Rhett backed away.

“You,” she said.

“Wrong,” Rhett quipped, laughing.

She panted and looked in his direction as he picked up his bottle to drink. “You?” she asked.

“Yes.” He drank some more. “I guess these hands are good liars. Or you don’t know me well enough at all.” Lara frowned beneath the blindfold. West could see the creases in her forehead as she thought. “Would you like me like that more often?”

She paused.

“No. Yes.” She shook her head. “No.”

“You like it rough?” West asked. “Be honest, Lara.”

She paused again and pulled her legs together. “With him, yes.”

“Not with me?”

“I wouldn’t know. You’ve never been rough with me.” West scowled at that. He had. On some occasions, he’d been rougher than usual. He’d pinned her and done things that should have made her hurt. They were the same kind of things that he thought of when he wasn’t thinking nicely.

He looked at Rhett, who was near smirking with the bottle to his lips.

They were different when it came to sex. West knew that. But her listing the differences, and then deciding she didn’t want West rough, made him green with envy. Yes, this was all fucking perfect. And yes, he wanted this for the rest of his life. He wasn’t good enough when he was rough, though? No.

Something inside him clicked into place, and he was all over her like a rash.

He abandoned thought.

He abandoned himself.

He became Rhett.

Before any of them knew what was happening, he was rutting into her without care. His hands held her legs up, and his stubble raked across her chest and neck as he fucked. He held her likeRhett would have, and he used every piece of himself to act in the way that Rhett would. She heaved and groaned under the strain, muttering words more angrily, as if she was trying to survive the assault.

He was about to come when Rhett’s hand came in front of his face and pushed him backwards, almost ordering that he stop. His hips almost did on command, but his mind was too involved.

Rhett got his face between them, put a finger to his lips to tell West to stay quiet, and kissed Lara, making her turn sideways for him. West watched, both confused and excited.