Page 84 of The Ballad of Us
“Gray,” she whines, and I admit that I enjoy teasing her.
Peppering kisses down to her knee and back up again, I skip over her pussy, making sure to blow on it as I make my way across to her other leg.
“You’re teasing me.” Her impatience is adorable.
“Yes, baby,” I say as I continue my assault on her thigh, slowly climbing my way back to her sweet little cunt.
Rhea squirms beneath me, so I finally put her out of her misery, lowering my mouth to her center and pressing my lips to hers. She smells like vanilla and coconut with a hint of a scent that’s all Rhea. God, how I have missed this.
I spread her legs wider as I run a finger up the center of her before dragging it back again. “Fuck, Rhea, you’re wet as fuck.”
She bucks at the contact as a strangled sound dies in the back of her throat, but she doesn’t reply with words. Instead, my girl reaches for my face, wraps her hand around the back of my head, and silently demands I finish what I started by shoving my face in her pussy.
Well, then, there’s not much I can do but give her what she wants, especially with the way she’s moaning above me. She lies back on the counter as soon as my tongue parts her, and I taste her wetness before inserting a finger inside. Rhea soaks one, then two fingers as I fuck her with my hand and massage her clit with my tongue.
Rhea’s thighs tighten around my head like a vice. Her back arches, and the sounds of ecstasy grow more desperate and primal. She’s close to coming, but I want her slick pussy all over my cock when she does. Removing my hand, I kiss a path up her body until I reach her mouth. She welcomes my kiss and the taste of herself on my tongue.
“I can’t take this anymore.” Rhea reaches between us, lines me up, and guides me inside.
I drop my head to her shoulder and sigh. “Jesus Christ, you feel better than any person has a fucking right to.”
“Baby, you gotta move,” she prompts, digging her heels into my ass. Her hips flex, pushing me out before bringing me back until I’m fully seated inside of her again.
Losing myself in how fan-fucking-tastic it feels, I pump in and out. Rhea holds onto me tightly as I pick up the pace and fuck her at a punishing rate.
“That’s right. Fuck me like you mean it.” She pulls the lobe of my ear in between her teeth.
Her words only spur me to move faster, fuck harder, and ask for forgiveness later. All my inhibition goes out the window as I draw near the finish line. But when Rhea spills over the edge of ecstasy, she locks her body around mine, throws her head back, and shouts, “I’m coming!”
As she spasms around me, her cunt tightening around my cock, I let go and have the longest, hardest orgasm of my life. When all the pleasure has pulsed out of my body, I nearly collapse from the sheer intensity of the release, but I’m not done yet.
“Keep your legs around me, baby,” I tell her, as I move us to the bathroom for a wet cloth.
Setting her on the small bathroom counter, I wait for the water to turn warm before using it to clean my queen. I take my time with aftercare as I press the cloth between her legs and wipe the wetness from her pussy.
Moments later, we settle into bed with her head between my shoulder and jaw. It takes mere seconds before Rhea’s deep breaths even out as she surrenders the day. My fingers trace invisible words and promises across her soft skin while she drifts away. I’m not far behind her, but I don’t close my eyes before saying, “I love you, Rhea.”
Twenty-Seven
RHEA
The afternoon shift at Mountain Mornings ends the way it always does. I wipe down the espresso machine while Emma counts the register and wonders if we should try a new seasonal drink the next day. This routine is comforting. It’s a small piece of calm in a world that at times feels too chaotic. I love these moments—the hum of the café and the clink of the register. Still, I feel a quiet longing. I catch myself thinking about what else could be out there, what adventures or chances I might be missing. In these peaceful times, I wonder what it might cost me to keep this simple life. Is it worth it? I’m so lost in thought, I didn’t notice the black SUVs on Main Street and missed the strangers outside with cameras, ready to break this calm.
“I'm thinking pumpkin spice is overdone,” Emma says, not looking up from her counting. “What about maple cardamom? Or chai apple cider?”
“Both sound amazing,” I reply, hanging up my apron. “Let’s test them tomorrow and see which one the morning crowd prefers?”
I'm reaching for my bag when Emma glances out the window and freezes. “Rhea, wait?—”
I'm already pushing through the door, Duke's leash in my hand since I promised to walk him after my shift. The moment I step outside, they descend like vultures.
“Rhea! Rhea! How does it feel to be the woman who saved Gray Garrison?”
The first flash blinds me. Prickles race over my skin, the sensation is shocking. Suddenly, bodies press in from all sides. Cameras and microphones. Too many loud, incessant voices. They all merge into an overwhelming cacophony that slams right into me.
“Is it true you left him to force him into rehab?”
“Did you know he was an addict when you started dating?”
