Intro to Erotica Final

“It’s not that easy Scarlett.” Rhett’s mouth attacked hers brutally while Scarlett tried to push him away. “You’ve turned me out while you’ve chased Ashley Wilkes, while you’ve dreamed of Ashley Wilkes. This is one night you’re not turning me out.” Rhett scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, ignoring her ineffectual pushes and punches.

When he got to her bedroom door, Rhett kicked it open. Throwing Scarlett on the bed, he crossed back to the door to close it. Instinct alerted him and he spun and ducked just in time to avoid the candlestick flying through the air where his head had been. She’s got good aim, he thought as he turned to secure the door. Not surprising, though. That woman can do anything she sets her mind to. Her shouts of insult registered only marginally in Rhett’s brain. He knew no one would come running to Scarlett’s aid for the servants all but despised their fickle mistress. He wished he could too.

Turning quickly, he avoided the matching candlestick she had thrown and quickly crossed the room. He caught her hand just before she flung the vase at him. Taking her body fiercely in his free arm, he assaulted her lips again. The kiss was hard, crushing, violent and jealous. Her scent and taste swirled in his head like the hurricanes he jeered when running the blockade. His longing for her neared a point of no return and he broke off the kiss to save himself. Watching her face, for just a moment he caught sight of the woman-child he loved. Then her face was consumed by the cold, calculating survivor he knew to be as much a mask as the southern belle simper she sometimes wore.

Scarlett’s cat eyes opened and he saw hatred in them. He also saw fear. Fear of me?, he wondered. No, realization dawned, fear of herself. Rhett knew how frightening it could be for a strong person like Scarlett to relinquish control. He knew it wasn’t something she could do by herself. He also knew he could help her if she would only let him. Lowering his lips to hers again, he kissed her softly.

She struggled. She tried to push him away. She pummelled him with useless blows. Through it all he kissed her. Gradually the struggle faded. Her blows were fewer and softer. Then they stopped altogether and her lips softened. In another moment he heard her moan and felt her body meld to his. His lips never left hers as he gathered her into his arms and carried her back to the bed.

Laying her down gently, he moved his lips from her mouth to her neck. He trailed his lips and teeth up and down her neck as he undid the belt of her housecoat. Scarlett roused from her swoon long enough let Rhett help her pull her arms from the sleeves. Rhett let the garment fall to the floor beside the bed. Loosening the ties of her gown, Rhett moved his kisses lower, tracing the first swell of her breast with his tongue.

Pulling the gown over her head, he pinned her arms with it. As he did, she sighed and the name that escaped was not his. “Ashley.”

Furiously hurt, he grabbed her breast and pinched the nipple hard. “Would Ashley use your body like this?” he roared. He was partially satisfied when he heard her gasp sharply, whether in pain or pleasure he didn’t care. He lowered his mouth to her nipple and sucked hard. As the nipple grew he nipped with his teeth. The moans escaping her changed to obvious pleasure, their tempo and volume rising to a crescendo he knew meant she was getting close to orgasm. Still angry, he took her right to the edge before stopping.

She cried out wordlessly, a child promised then denied a sweet treat. Reaching between her legs he found her hot and wet. Plunging several fingers deep inside her, he demanded, “Would your gentleman do this?” He moved his fingers ferociously in and out of her while her hips bucked.

When he could tell she was close again he plunged deep and stopped. Again she moaned in frustration. She moved her hips uselessly, but he kept his hand firmly against her cruelly denying her release. He listened to her breathing and, when he could tell that she had stepped back from the precipice, he positioned his face between her legs.

“And you know your Ashley is far too honorable to give you this,” he said, the gruffness in his voice surprising even him as he parted her lips to let his tongue run along her slit from stem to stern.

Scarlett gasped in surprise and horror. “No, Rhett, don’t! You can’t! It’s not proper!”

Ignoring her pleas he focused his tongue on her bud. Soon her protests ceased and she moaned and yelped with the new sensation. He carried her back to the precipice and this time sent her flying over it. She screamed as the orgasm coursed through her like waves of wildfire. As it subsided she moaned deeply. He knew she was revelling in the floating sensation that meant a gradual descent from the summit.

Damn her, he thought. Damn her for addicting me. But he knew the thought was useless. He loved her. Despite everything -- despite her marriages to Charles and Frank, despite their tumultuous courtship, their shunned marriage, despite her desperate devotion to the ideals of the Old South and its figurehead, Ashley Wilkes, he knew he loved her beyond measure and beyond all reason. As he listened to her float down from orgasm, he stood and undressed quickly.

Lying beside her again, his sex hard and pulsing, he chained his own need and used his fingers to again bring her to that glorious apex. He listened as the orgasm raged through her, escaping in moans and cries of ecstasy. Her sounds fell into his ears and bore straight to his heart. Despite everything he loved her. As she crested the peak and began to float again, he rose to lay atop her.

“Look at me, Scarlett,” he commanded. “Look at me,” he said again when she didn’t respond.

At the second command she slowly opened her eyes, the effort threatening to overwhelm her. As he gazed deep into those beautiful green orbs that haunted his dreams, he slipped inside her. For a moment he lay there, buried in her, basking in the warmth that had been denied to him so long. Her eyes smiled at him an he smirked back. Without a word, they began to move together, hips thrusting back and forth slowly. Their movements quickened as they began to climb together. As they reached the tip, Rhett slammed into her again and again, her wet heat matching him stroke for stroke as he lost himself in her eyes. When she went over the power of her orgasm sapped her strength ad she was unable to keep her eyes open any longer. He closed his eyes and gave a couple more powerful thrusts then emptied himself in her, deeply and completely, slowing but not stopping his movements until there was nothing left.

They lay coupled a long time, recapturing their breath. When he rolled off her, she snuggled up on his chest and he held her. “Oh Rhett, that was incredible,” she sighed.

Rhett merely stared at the darkness of the ceiling wondering what he had done. Despite how she felt at the end, there was no denying he’d taken her against her will to begin with -- something he would have sworn he could never do. He lay there, chastising himself for his loss of control and the inexcusable violation of honor. Despite his words to her earlier, before this despicable act, he did hold his personal honor in high esteem. It was easy to play the scoundrel because so often he found the rules of society stupid and unbearable. But he knew with an unwavering certainty what he considered right and wrong and this, this reprehensible, unforgivable conduct he knew was undeniably wrong.

When Scarlett’s deep, steady breathing indicated she had fallen asleep, he gently extricated himself from her arms and dressed. He allowed himself to stare at her sleeping, child-like form for a moment before softly swearing and leaving the room.