Bridget von Ascheberg would be the death of me. I’d known that the moment I’d set eyes on her, and my prediction was playing out in real time as I devoured her.
The death of my self-control, my professionalism, and any sense of self-preservation I had. None of that mattered when I tasted how sweet she was or felt how perfectly her curves fit in my palms, like she was tailor-made for me.
Two years of watching and waiting and wishing. It had all come down to this, and it was even better than I’d imagined.
Bridget’s arms wrapped around my neck, her body pliant beneath mine. She tasted like mint and sugar, and at that moment, it became my favorite taste in the world.
I pushed her against the side of the pool and tightened my grip on her hair, my mouth not leaving hers the entire time.
It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of years of pent-up frustration and tension, but Bridget matched me inch for inch. She tugged on my hair in return, her tongue tangling with mine and her little moans going straight to my cock.
“Is this what you want?” I pinched her nipple through her bikini top. That fucking bikini. My eyes nearly fell out when she’d walked past in her get-up earlier, and I was glad she’d never worn it to the beach. If she had, I’d have to kill every fucker who laid eyes on her, and there were other things I’d rather do on vacation…like take my sweet time exploring every inch of her luscious body. “Hmm?”
“Yes.” Bridget arched into my touch. “But more. Please.”
I groaned. Definitely the death of me.
I gave her another hard kiss before I hooked her legs around my waist and carried her out of the pool and up the stairs to her room. For what I had in mind, I needed more than a pool ledge to work with.
I placed her on the bed, soaking in how beautiful she looked. Wet hair, gleaming skin, face flushed with arousal.
I wanted nothing more than to bury myself inside her so deep she’d never forget me, but even in my lust-fueled haze, I knew that wasn’t possible.
If we crossed that bridge, I would never let her go, and it would ruin us both. I didn’t give a shit about me. I was already ruined.
But Bridget? She deserved more than me.
She deserved the world.
“Bucket list number four. Two rules,” I said, my words filled with gravel. “One: if we do this, it stays here. This room, this night. We don’t talk about it again. Got it?”
It was harsh, but it had to be said—for both our sakes. Otherwise, I could all too easily lose myself in the fantasy of what could be, and that was more dangerous than any predator or enemy.
Bridget nodded.
“Two: no fucking.”
Confusion crossed her face. “But you said—”
“There are other ways to make someone come, princess.” I palmed her breast and swept my thumb over her nipple before taking a small step back. “Now be a good girl and take off your bikini for me.”
A small shiver rippled through her body, but she knelt on the bed and did as I asked, untying first her bikini top then her bottoms with agonizing slowness.
Jesus Christ. I wasn’t a religious man, but if there was ever a time to believe in God, it was now.
Since I couldn’t touch her with my hands—not yet—I caressed her with my eyes. Bold and rough, my gaze dragging from her full, firm breasts to the sweet pussy already glistening with her wetness.
“Touch yourself,” I ordered. “Let me see what you’ve been doing all those nights when you’re alone in your room.”
A deep blush bloomed across her body, turning ivory into rose, and I wanted to trace its path with my tongue. Mark her with my teeth and touch. Proclaim to the world who she belonged to, who she should belong to.
Me.
My fists clenched at my sides.
Despite her blush, Bridget didn’t take her eyes off me as she caressed her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples before one hand slid between her legs.
Soon, she was whimpering with pleasure, her mouth falling open and her breaths turning shallow as she rubbed her clit and fingered her pussy.
Meanwhile, my eyes devoured her the way a lion would tear into a gazelle. Fierce. Ravenous. Destructive.
My cock was so hard it hurt, but I didn’t touch it. Not yet.
“You thinking of me, princess?” I asked silkily. “Hmm? Are you thinking of how much you want me to pin you to the bed and tongue fuck that sweet little cunt until you come all over my face?”
Bridget whimpered as her fingers worked faster at my filthy words. She was still kneeling, her thighs trembling from her ministrations. “M-maybe.”
“It’s a yes or no question. Tell me,” I growled. “Who do you think about when you’re finger fucking your tight cunt?”
Bridget shuddered as her head tilted back and her eyes fluttered closed. “You.”
“What am I doing to you?”
She moaned.
I stalked to the bed and grasped her chin in one hand, forcing her to meet my gaze again. “What. Am. I. Doing. To. You.”
“Fucking me,” she gasped. I was close enough to smell her arousal and hear the slick sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of her cunt. “While I’m bent over the dresser, and I can see you behind me in the mirror. Pulling my hair. Taking me from behind. Filling me with your cock.”
Fuck. I hadn’t come in my pants since I was a freshman in high school, but I was already close to blowing my load.
“You’ve got a filthy mouth for a princess.” I gripped her wrist with my other hand, forcing her to still. Bridget whined in protest, but I didn’t break my hold.
I could tell she was about to come, but tonight, all her orgasms belonged to me.
I pushed her down on the bed and pinned her wrists above her head, deftly tying them together with the strings from her bikini top.
“What are you doing?” A mixture of trepidation and anticipation filled Bridget’s face.
“Making sure I can take my sweet time with you, princess. Now lie back and let me check off the last bucket list item for you.”
I captured her mouth in another kiss before moving my way down her neck. Collarbones. Shoulders. When I reached her breasts, I licked and sucked on her nipples until she was panting and trying to wriggle out of her makeshift bindings, but the knot was too tight.
One of the most useful skills I learned in the Navy? How to tie a good knot.
I tugged gently on her nipple with my teeth while I pushed one finger inside her, then two, stretching her out.
A groan tore out of my throat. “You’re drenched.”
“Please.” Bridget’s skin was hot to the touch. “I need…I need…”
“What do you need?” I kissed my way down her stomach until I reached her pussy. I pushed my fingers deeper inside her before I dragged them out, then thrust them in again. Enough to bring her to the edge, but not enough to tip her over.
“I need to come,” she moaned. “Rhys, please.”
I stilled. “What did you call me?” I lifted my head, and she stared back at me with lust and something else shining in those gorgeous blue eyes.
“Rhys,” she repeated in a whisper.
The sound of my name on her lips may be the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.
I exhaled a sharp breath before I resumed my ministrations. “You’ll come, princess. But not until I say you can.”
I lowered my head again and gently scraped my teeth over her clit before I sucked on it. Between that and the finger fucking, she was dripping all down her thighs, and I lapped every drop up like a man starved.
So fucking delicious. I’d never been addicted to anything, but I was addicted to the taste and feel of her pussy.
Bridget ground against my face, her movements frantic and desperate, and her pleading whines grew louder the longer I ate her out.
I finally took pity on her, pressing my thumb against her clit and curling my fingers until they hit the spot that would make her shatter.
“Come,” I ordered.
The word barely left my mouth before Bridget arched off the bed with a sharp cry. She came so long and hard it took a good five minutes for her trembles to subside, and the sight of her orgasming was almost enough to make me forget the rule I’d imposed.
No fucking.
I untied her and stroked the faint red marks where the strings had dug into her skin.
Bridget lay in a boneless heap on the bed, but when I moved to get off the bed, she stopped me.
“You’re forgetting something.” She stared at the obvious bulge in my shorts.
“Trust me, I’m not forgetting anything.” It was hard to forget when it was so hard it could hammer nails.
“Then let me take care of that for you.”
I sucked in a breath when her fingers brushed against me. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“The plan changed.” Bridget pulled down my shorts, her eyes widening as she took in my size.
“Bridget…” My protest morphed into a groan when she wrapped her hands around me.
“You said my name.” She flicked her tongue over the head of my cock and lapped up the beads of pre-cum before she took me fully in her mouth.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.
Everything had ceased to exist except for her warmth around my cock, and I was pretty sure heaven itself couldn’t feel better than this.
My blood coursed through my veins like liquid fire, and my heart pumped with a mixture of lust and something else I’d rather not name as I tangled my hands in Bridget’s hair.
So fucking beautiful.
She tried to fit all of me down her throat, but I was too big or the angle too awkward. She let out a small, muffled sound of frustration, and I rasped out a laugh before I withdrew and repositioned her until she lay on her back again.
“Tell me if it’s too much.” I slid the tip of my cock across her lips before I nudged it into her mouth. I paused every few inches to let her acclimate to my size until I was finally, blissfully buried all the way down her throat.
Fuck. It wasn’t often I had to rely on my old trick of naming baseball rosters in my head, but right now, thoughts of the Washington Nationals were the only thing keeping me from cutting our night short.
Bridget choked and sputtered, her eyes welling with tears, and I pulled out until just the tip remained.
“Too much?”
She shook her head, her eyes dark and eager, and I pushed myself inside her again with a groan.
We worked up to a rhythm—slowly at first, then faster as she got more comfortable. Bridget’s sputters gradually eased, replaced with moans that sent tiny vibrations shooting up my cock, and she reached down to finger herself while I pinched and played with her nipples.
“That’s it,” I growled. “Take every inch down your throat like a good girl.”
Sweat beaded on my skin as I drove in and out of her mouth until I couldn’t take it anymore. The silky warmth of her mouth, the sight of her playing with herself while her throat bulged around my cock…
My orgasm slammed into me like fireworks and exploded behind my eyes. I pulled out at the last minute and erupted, covering her chest with thick ropes of cum. I came so fucking hard I almost sank to the floor afterward, and that never happened. Ever.
By the time I was finished, Bridget had come again too, and the sounds of our ragged breaths mixed with the heavy scent of sex in the air.
“Wow.” She blinked, looking a little shellshocked.
I laughed, my head—both of them—still buzzing from the aftershocks.
“I should be the one saying that.” I gave her a quick kiss before I scooped her up from the bed and carried her into the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”
After our shower, during which I couldn’t resist fingering her to another orgasm, I replaced the sheets before setting her back down on the bed. Exhaustion and satisfaction lined her face, and for once, she let me fuss over her without complaint as I tucked her beneath the covers and smoothed her hair out of her face.
“Bucket list number four. Don’t say I never gave you anything,” I teased.
Bridget managed to yawn and laugh at the same time. “Bucket list number four,” she murmured sleepily. “It was perfect.” She blinked up at me, her blue eyes a little sad. “I wish we could stay here forever.”
My chest squeezed. “Me too, princess.” I gave her another kiss, the softest of the night, and tried to etch the taste and feel of her in my memory.
After she drifted off, I sat and watched her sleep for a while, feeling like a total creep but unable to look away. Her chest rose and fell with steady breaths, and she had a small smile on her face. She looked more content than she had in weeks, and I wished I had the power to make the moment last forever like she wanted.
If we do this, it stays here. This room, this night. We don’t talk about it again.
My rule. One we had to follow because Bridget wasn’t just my client. She was the future Queen of Eldorra, and with that came layers of complications and bullshit I hated but couldn’t do anything about.
I swept my gaze over her one last time, taking in every detail, before I hardened my expression and left.
Bucket list number four.
No matter what my heart said or wanted, tonight was a fulfillment of her wishes.
That was all it was.
That was all it could be.
