Chapter Forty-Nine

Havermouth, Five Years Before

Aislen was breathing heavy, her chest tight and her heart racing. Heath was unpredictable. She never knew what would happen when he was around. Would he ridicule her in front of others? Would he produce a strange sex toy? Would he drag her out and rape her on the grass?

Had it even been rape? He said not…

“I can see Rhett in this,” he said, sitting down behind her, so that he framed her body with his. His breath caressed her cheek as he looked over her shoulder.

He scooped her hair back to clear his view and paused, making a small laughing sound. “Your hair is as wild and wicked as you are,” he murmured, pulling a curl straight before releasing. “More so after swimming today. What will you do next?” He asked, turning his attention back to the painting.

“Do?” She was aching, her body reacting to his proximity, her thoughts scattering, washing out, so that even his thoughts, communicated through the touch of his body against hers, were faded and fuzzed.

“To the painting.”

“Oh,” she looked at the painting below her hand as if seeing it for the first time. Her paint brush hovered. She dipped it into the colour, wiping off the excess, and added shading, gradually transforming the paper into Rhett’s face.

Heath sat behind her, watching patiently as if there was nothing happening outside, as if they were alone in the house and his only entertainment for the day was watching her paint. Every now and again he would touch her in a different way, stroking his fingers through her hair, pressing his lips to her shoulder, sliding the palm of his hand down her arm.

She dropped her paint brush onto the pallet, too distracted to continue, and leaned back against him raising her mouth to his. His hand cupped the back of her head, and his kiss was gentle, tender. He lifted her into the cradle of his legs so that her back was supported by his raised knee and devoted himself to kissing her until she was sure that her bones melted.

He lifted her top and removed her bra, exploring her breasts with his hand, whilst he held her up with the other. He weighed each breast on his palm before rolling the nipple beneath it and she moaned, her body knowing that it was tasting only the edge of pleasure that he offered. She stirred the edges of his hair through her fingers, holding his mouth to hers, stroking her tongue against his.

He laid her down onto the mattress and looked at her for a moment.

“Heath,” she whispered her heart aching.

“Jeans, Aislen,” he replied, as he lifted his t-shirt over his head.

There was a reason that half the girls in school lusted after him, she thought, as she watched him. Cameron’s body was defined and strengthened by his physical exertion on the farm, and Rhett’s was spare, lean, the muscles visible as much due to a lack of body fat from exercise. Heath played football, and trained a couple of nights a week, his body was built to ram into another’s and overwhelm them, his shoulders broad, his thighs thick with muscle.

He stripped his jeans off and covered her with his gorgeous body, his mouth meeting hers, the kiss heavy with breathy moans, both of them knowing what would follow, both of them craving it. His cock nudged against her entrance, but he didn’t rush to thrust into her, as he had previously. Instead, he dragged his body down hers, letting her feel the slide of his skin against hers, holding her eyes until he turned his attention to sucking on her breasts, his shoulders spreading her thighs and his thumbs hooking into her cunt, holding her open.

He slid down, kissing along her stomach, and then dragged his tongue through her folds, thrusting it into her in a circular motion, slickening her with his saliva, before focusing his attention on her clit whilst he fucked her with his fingers, increasing from two fingers to three, to four…

She writhed, not sure if she was protesting or begging for more.

He lifted over her and met her lips with his, sliding his tongue against hers so she could taste herself on it. His cock nudged against her again and he put his weight behind it, sinking effortlessly into her, his passage eased by her arousal and his saliva.

Her body was on the edge of orgasm as she gripped Heath to her and kissed him with abandon.

His hand cupped her jaw, the pressure on her throat increasing her pleasure. She met his eyes as he dragged his tongue from the corner of her mouth to her jaw. “Mine,” he growled into her ear, and she arched her body, responding to the tone, the word… “Yes,” he breathed out. “You know it. Say it.”

“Yours,” she panted.

“Ours.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

She came, clutching him to her, crying out and pressing her face into his shoulder. He groaned, tensing, and holding still, controlling himself, and then stroked out before thrusting back into her. His next thrust was tight to her, spreading her legs wide to accommodate him as his hands cupped her arse, lifting her hips so he could push up against her cervix, grinding into her.

His mouth found hers, the kiss more a meeting of moans and gasps, and began to thrust into her with rhythm keeping his chest to hers, so that their bellies touched, the vulnerability of that flesh meeting as intensely intimate as his cock within her.

She clutched his shoulders, awash with pleasure, pinned beneath his body.

“Look at me,” he breathed out. “Look at me.” She dragged her eyes to his. “Yes,” he moaned it. “Yes, look at me, Aislen.”

“Heath,” she fought the urge to close her eyes as her body crested towards orgasm.

“Yes, say my name.”

“Heath,” she gasped, and fell. His moan was filthy as he pushed against her cervix and came. She could feel his heart racing beneath her palms and against her ribs as he sank his weight fully upon her.

She swallowed heavily, taken aback by the intensely intimate experience, trying to work out what had happened, how it had happened with Heath, who hated her...

Outside, she could hear the party getting rowdy as the intoxication increased, shrieks of raucous laughter rising and falling over the hum of conversation and the dark pulse of music from someone’s car.

She stroked the palms of her hands over Heath’s back and turned her face into his hair, breathing in the scent of him that clung there.

His thoughts were peaceful, as they seemed too often to be after he’d come, as if he took the time after, pressed close and intimate, to appreciate the experience of being skin to skin. But as the minutes passed in their quiet embrace, they began to clarify and become more active, and triumphant. (Finally… I can FEEL it…) The fierce joy behind that thought took her breath away.

He began to suck along her neck, dragging his tongue across her skin, pinching the meat between his teeth – something that sent a shiver of pleasure through her. She could feel that he was hard again within her. There was a greed behind his thoughts, a desire for more, and she embraced the feeling, arching into the stroke of his cock through her, because she too desired more…

His groan was growled into her ear. “Tell me.” (Say my name… Tell me who is fucking you… Accept me…)

“Heath,” she pressed her lips to his cheek. “Heath.”

“Yes.” (YES) “Heath.”