“You’re a dick,” I grumble.
His chest vibrates on a chuckle. Damn, he smells good though. I lean into him, inhaling the familiar scent that should be bottled and labelled simply as ‘Sex’. Pressing my face into his neck, I trace my lips along his throat, scraping my teeth over his jaw.
“Okay.” He drops me unceremoniously, catching me around the waist before I hit the floor.
I rip the blindfold off and meet his smug expression. “Anyone would think you never want your dick sucked again.”
There’s a snort behind me and I freeze. Rhett’s lips twitch as he tries to fight a smile and I narrow my eyes at him, tying to convey his impending pain with a look.
I slowly turn around, and of course, there are fuck knows how many people standing here, and here is a boat.
“Surprise!” They shout.
Rhett takes my hand and I dig my nails into him. At a brief glance, I recognise a few people from the socialite scene. Milly and Felix are closest to us, and they make their way over. A DJ starts playing music, and it seems the party is in full swing almost immediately.
Milly hugs me. “He’s totally a keeper,” she whispers in my ear. “You should definitely suck his dick.”
Felix stays and talks to Rhett while Milly leads me towards the bar. “Happy birthday girl.”
“Thanks. Please tell me you helped with this, otherwise he’s just like some sort of freak of nature. And then I’m going to have to start looking for the ‘but’.”
“The but?”
“Yeah, no one man can be too perfect, there’s always a but. Like, yeah, he’s great, but, he’s into foot wanks, or, he likes to wear nappies in his spare time.”
She snorts. “Um, Rhett does not strike me as the nappy type.”
“But foot wanks are a possibility. See!”
She laughs. “God, I love you. No, I did help a bit.” She shrugs. “Changed out champagne for shots, removed a couple of people from the guest list.”
“Oh, oh, oh…Jenna James?” She nods. “I hate that bitch.”
“I got you, babe.” The bar tender places six shots in front of us, and Milly clinks one to mine. “To being twenty-one.”
Two hours later and we’ve moved and are now anchored out at sea. The boat is like a beacon, covered in fairy lights on every available surface. I’m drunk and dancing with Milly. My feet are bare and I’ve lost my bag somewhere along the way, but I don’t care. This is the best party, and Rhett threw it for me. I hold the material of my skirt as I move my hips to the music and twirl in a flurry of coral fabric. A pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind, and I glance over my shoulder to see Felix. He places a quick kiss on my cheek.
“Rhett wants you, baby girl. He’s on the top deck.”
Looking up, I make out the outline of a lone figure leaning against the top deck railings. Oh, I have a birthday surprise for him all of my own. I manage to make it across the wooden deck, even as the boat gently bobs in the water, making me feel trashed rather than just tipsy. I climb the narrow steps up onto the top deck. It’s darker up here, with only a single string of fairy lights wrapped around the railings.
I don’t see Rhett, and I go to the railing, gripping it and glancing down at the people dancing below, trying to spot him. A wooden decking board creaks behind me and I smile. Fingertips brush across my shoulder, moving my hair from my neck before his lips trace the same path. I close my eyes and lean back into his warm body, tilting my head to the side and allowing him access to my neck. His hands wrap around my waist, holding me tight, making me feel safe. Always.
Turning in his arms, I meet those golden eyes as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze roams over my face, a small smile gracing his lips before he leans in and kisses me. He doesn’t realise it, but even with a simple kiss, he claims me, brands me, owns me completely.
His hand cups my nape, his fingers winding into the hair at the base of my neck. “Happy birthday, Duchess,” he breathes, leaning his forehead against mine. “I have another surprise for you, more of a request really.”
I step away from him, and reach behind me, unzipping my dress. “I’m all about requests.” I smile, dragging my eyes over his body as I push the material off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
He smiles as he reaches for me, but I step out of his reach. “But you’ll have to catch me first.” I tease, before making a dash for the railing to the side and climbing up on it.
“Blake!” he shouts, but his voice is lost on the wind as I jump.
I plunge into the cold water and it wraps me in its dark embrace, the frigid temperature causing my lungs to seize. I break the surface and gulp in a breath. The lights from the boat reflect off the surface of the water and it’s so pretty. Everyone rushes to the railing, peering into the darkness.
There’s a big splash a few feet behind me, and my instant thought is ‘shark!’, but of course, a few seconds later and Rhett breaks the surface right in front of me.
“Blake!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice and I laugh.
He treads water, pulling me against his body. His skin feels red hot compared to the surrounding water. “Yeah?” I whisper.
“She’s okay!” he shouts up at the boat though the music still doesn’t start back up. Anyone would think I’d tried to jump off a building. It’s water! “You’re fucking insane,” he mumbles.
“It’s fun.”
“It’s cold.”
I lay back in the water. “But don’t you feel so alive?”
“No, I feel cold.”
I laugh as I cling to his shoulders, allowing him to keep me afloat. His cool lips caress my jaw in just a hint of a kiss. “Before you went all kamikaze on me, I was going to ask you something,” he breathes against my chilled skin.
I tilt my face forward, meeting his gaze. “What were you going to ask me?”
“Marry me, Duchess.”
I freeze and his grip on my waist tightens, holding me up. “That wasn’t a question,” I whisper into the darkness.
“Feel alive." His lips press against the corner of my mouth. “Jump with me. Marry me.”
I have never loved anyone the way I love Rhett, and no one has ever loved me with the kind of raw passion that he does. His love is unconditional, explosive, reverent in the most beautiful and addictive of ways. So why not marry him? I truly believe you should live every moment like it’s your last. Love hard, take risks, and when someone holds out their hand and asks you to jump, do it with both feet.
“Okay.”
He smirks. “Okay?”
I nod my head once and he slams his icy lips over mine. Winding my arms tightly around his neck, I try to get as close to him as possible, wanting to crawl inside him.
His hands cup my arse, squeezing as he yanks me against his hard dick. “And there was me thinking the cold would have scared him off.”
His lips kick up. “Him?”
I point down between us. “Your peen.”
He shakes his head. “Never.”
We swim back to the boat and Rhett waits for me to climb the ladder, helping me as my numb fingers grip the rungs. Okay, so maybe the whole water situation wasn’t the smartest idea, but it seemed like a good one at the time.
He climbs up behind me. “You just want to perv,” I shout back at him.
“Duchess, it doesn’t take a lot to get you naked. I don’t need to perv.”
I glance down at him. “Are you saying I’m easy?” I ask, incredulously.
He climbs up behind me and slaps my arse, making me yelp. “We both know you are.”
When I climb up onto the deck, Milly is waiting with her hands on her hips. I laugh when I see the scowl on her face.
“Oh, Blake Ivy McQueen, I am going to kill you!”
I dive out of her way and into Felix. He shakes his head and holds out a towel, wrapping it around me, because yes, I’m standing in front of a party full of people who are all crowded around, and I’m in just m
y underwear. I shiver violently, my teeth chattering together.
“Just when I think you might actually be settling down, you throw yourself off a boat,” Felix says, humour lacing his voice.
“I have to keep him on his toes.” I nod towards Rhett.
“Yeah.” Felix laughs. “Have fun with that, dude.”
Rhett grabs my hand, leading me away from the gathered people. “We’ll be back.” I follow him down the side of the boat, and damn, Rhett in just a pair of boxers is a view I will never get bored of, and I’ll never have to.
I’m going to marry Rhett, and it seems completely insane, but so right at the same time. Sometimes in life, you have to take a good thing when it comes, don’t fight it and don’t question it. Rhett Torres is one of those things. He may not be everyone’s version of perfect, but he’s my perfect.
He pulls me to a cordoned off set of stairs and down a level into a lavish living area. “Oh, this is fancy.” The music upstairs starts up again, vibrating the flooring beneath my feet.
He keeps walking through the living room and into a bedroom. He yanks the towel away from me and I scowl as a violent shiver wracks my body.
“You’re the one that wanted to ‘feel alive’.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Feeling it right now?”
“Fuck off.”
He laughs as he slides a hand up my back, releasing my bra. Next he pushes my underwear down my legs, helping me step out of the wet lace.
“Told you, doesn’t take much.” He smiles as he shoves his boxers off and opens a door on the far side of the room, leading to a bathroom. He starts the shower, and the instant steam promises warmth and Rhett, naked, with water running all over those muscles. Pretty much, everything good right now. He slides the glass back and steps in, beckoning me with a crook of his finger. I follow him into the shower and he wraps an arm around my waist, yanking me against him so hard I gasp. The hot water stings my skin, making me hiss out a breath.
His fingers wind into my hair, forcing my head back until my eyes lock with his. “You jump into freezing water like that again and I’m leaving you to drown.”
I smirk. “Lies.” I lean in and kiss him, gently sucking on his bottom lip. “You love me.”
He bites my lip. “I do.” His tongue slides into my mouth and I moan against his lips.
“You want me,” I breathe unevenly against his mouth, running my hand down his body and fisting his dick.
“Always.” He groans as I work my hand over him. I trace my tongue up the side of his throat, lapping the hot water from his skin. I work my way down the broad muscles of his chest, skimming his nipple with my teeth, pumping his cock the entire time. He spins us, positioning me beneath the flow of water and bracing a hand against the tile as he throws his head back.
I go lower, dragging my tongue over every chiselled groove between each ab, his muscles flex and contract under my lips as his breaths fall ragged.
Dropping to a crouch in front of him, I grip the backs of his thighs for support. I trace my tongue along his guideline until his cock is brushing my cheek. His expression is twists in desperation, his teeth clenching hard. I gently kiss the spot just to the right of his dick and it twitches.
“Damn it, Blake. If you don’t suck my dick in the next two seconds, I’m going to fuck your face until you gag.”
I laugh. “Patience is a virtue.”
He fists a hand in my hair. “Blake,” he growls in warning.
I smile and open my mouth, slowly sliding his dick inside. His breath hitches on a groan and he slaps his hand against the tile.
“Your fucking mouth!” He curses. I slide my hands up the backs of his thighs, cupping his arse. Digging my nails in, I pull him towards me, forcing him to fuck my face. I like him desperate, needy, and unhinged. I like to be the only one who can break Rhett Torres, even if I am on my knees while I do it.
He thrusts forward until his dick touches the back of my throat. I swallow to stop myself from gagging which makes him hiss out a breath. His pace quickens, his movements becoming more desperate, more forceful. I feel his dick twitch, his muscles tense, and then he rips away from me, panting heavily.
Roughly, he pulls me to my feet and grips my thigh, lifting it up over his hip. His lips hit my neck as he slams two fingers inside my pussy. I choke on a silent moan, my brain short circuiting completely as I clamp down around his fingers.
“I’m going to come in this sweet pussy, Duchess.”
I can’t respond, I can’t think. I roll my hips, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of him.
He rips his hand away and spins me, pressing his hand between my shoulder blades, forcing me to bend over. I feel his cock nudging against me, sliding through the juncture of my thighs. I throw my palm against the tile, bracing against him as his big body folds over mine. His tongue traces my spine, and then his fingers are gripping my hip, holding me hard enough that I feel his short nails bite into my skin.
There’s no warning, no tenderness as he slams into me so hard I struggle to stay upright. My pussy quivers around him as he stills inside me, breathing heavily. He moves his hand from my back and wraps my hair around his hand, yanking me upright until my spine bows and he slides even deeper inside of me. A broken moan escapes my throat and he pulls my head to the side slightly, kissing the my neck before biting down on the delicate skin.
“You’re mine, Blake,” he growls, pulling out and thrusting back in. My hand slides down the tile a fraction as I struggle to brace against him. “Say it.”
Now? He wants me to talk now? Fucking hell, I can barely breathe.
His grip on my hair tightens and I wince as he pulls me upright. He laps at the water running down the side of my throat. The gentleness combined with the brutal hold he has on my hair has me panting wildly.
He suddenly pulls out of me, and my body feels cold without him. He turns me, slamming my back against the tile and grabbing both my thighs, lifting me and pulling them apart at the same time. He throws me around like I’m a rag doll and I love it. Sliding back inside me, he pauses when he hits home.
“Say it,” he whispers.
What is he on about?
His lips brush against mine so tenderly I feel like I’m getting whiplash from his emotions. “Tell me you’re mine, Duchess,” he breathes against my mouth.
He pulls back a little and slams back in, making me moan. Again he stills and waits.
“I’m yours.”
His hand leaves my thigh and I tighten my grip around his waist, clinging to him. Cupping my cheek, he drags one finger across my bottom lip, a small smile on his face. For a second, I think that this is strange, and there must be something wrong, but then he starts moving, fucking me like a man possessed, and I forget everything that isn’t Rhett and what his cock is doing to me.
I lay on the bed, basking in the high that can only come from epic sex—epic Rhett sex. He glances down at my naked body, that cocky smile on his lips. You know, the one where they feel all manly because they made you scream, yeah, that smile.
“I have something for you.” He moves to the chair where someone has laid his jacket and trousers and my dress. He searches in the pocket and pulls out a box. Now, I’ve never been a romantic person, I wasn’t that girl who ever particularly wanted to get married, much to my mother’s dismay. I’ve never seen it as a life goal, however, even I know what that little black velvet box means, and my heart skips a beat.
I sit up and lift my eyes to his as he approaches the bed, crouching down in front of me.
“Don’t you dare get on one knee,” I tell him.
He grins and thankfully stays off his knees. He holds out the box and pops it open to show me a serious rock. My mother would be proud. She always said never settle for anything less than four carats. This has to be five.
It’s not a diamond though, it’s a ruby, such a deep red it’s almost the colour of blood. Two smaller diamonds sit to either side of it on what I assume is a white gold or platinum ban
d.
“Holy. Shit.”
His grin widens. “A lady as ever.”
I look up at him again. “Yeah, you’re asking the wrong girl if you wanted class.”
“You’re a class of your own, Duchess.”
“Oh, that one was good.”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a bottomless pit of this shit.”
I slide to the edge of the bed and wrap my arms around his neck. “I always was a sucker for a man with charm.”
He takes the ring out of the box and I disentangle my arms from around him. He slides the ring onto my left ring finger and for the first time in my life, I feel like I belong, as though everything has suddenly fallen into place. I never wanted marriage because in the world I grew up in it represented an exchange of power, an arrangement made to benefit one or perhaps both parties. Marriage was never about love, but this, with Rhett, this is love. This is different. This is …right.
“It looks good on you.” He stares at the ring on my finger and swallows heavily before looking away, but not before I catch something flash in his eyes, something that definitely shouldn’t be there. He stands and turns his back on me, refusing to look at me as he puts his shirt and trousers on. Something settles in the pit of my stomach and I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like it. “We should go back to the party,” he says.
“Okay.”
I barely see Rhett for the rest of the night. People congratulate us, girls want to look at the ring, guys slap him on the back.
At one point our gazes meet across the crowded deck of the boat, and I can’t explain why, but the look in his eyes haunt me. I rip my gaze from his and leave the party.
I lay on that bed tossing and turning for what feels like hours until eventually the music stops and I can see the pale grey light of dawn creeping through the little porthole window.
The door to the bedroom creaks open and I slam my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. I hear the rustle of clothing hitting the floor and then the bed drops on one side. A thick arm wraps around my waist, holding me against a hot, solid chest. Rhett’s scent engulfs me, pulling me into the impenetrable bubble that is us together. I never thought I would feel so consumed by someone that I would feel bereft without their presence, but that’s how I feel with him. When I’m in his arms, it’s as though I can finally breathe properly.
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