37. Rhys
CHAPTER 37
RHYS
We leave the studio, and the conversation between us is pretty much nonexistent. We’ve been walking for at least four minutes without exchanging a single word. I would say Tabitha’s zenned out, but I catch her chewing on the inside of her cheek, her face still flushed the same shade of pink as before class.
“That was nice,” she finally says, clearly desperate to fill the silence.
I keep walking and sneaking glances at her, contemplating the best words to say. Things between us went from fucked up to… confusing.
The only part that I’m not confused about is knowing that those skintight leggings won’t last long once we get home.
I also know that small talk isn’t my strong suit, so I offer her a flat look that portrays all my are-you-kidding-me feelings.
She snorts as we turn into the house, reading me so clearly.
“Okay, no awkward small talk. Got it.” She unlocks the door while adding, “Let’s talk about something more interesting, then.”
“Knowing you, this ought to be good.” I’m talking, but all I can think about is tackling her the minute that door closes.
I watch her toe off her fur-trimmed boot, her voice taking on that singsong teasing tone I so enjoy. “Do you know how many of those women were gawking at you?” She goes for the second one, keys still looped over her finger. “Like does being so sexy ever get tiring for you?”
She turns, and I pounce.
I wipe that mocking grin right off her pretty fucking mouth when I cup the back of her head and slam her back against the door.
“The only thing that was tiring for me was having to suffer through that class dreaming about peeling these tight fucking leggings off of you.”
Her responding throaty laugh only makes me harder. I nip at her jaw as I unzip her coat and let it fall to the floor. “You think that’s funny?”
“Hilarious,” she breathes out, pressing her chest toward me. And it’s all the invitation I need to drop to my knees in front of her. My hands slip to the waistline of her leggings, and I yank, finding beautiful bare skin.
I groan and drop my forehead against her thigh. “Tabby, are you trying to kill me?”
Another chuckle. “Panties aren’t comfortable at yoga. They ride up.”
“Fuck.” I nip at her thigh this time before pulling the stretchy fabric down lower. Then I take a taste of her right here at the front door, running my tongue over her clit and reveling in the feel of her nails raking across my scalp.
I circle the sensitive bud, using my thumb to spread her, to taste her.
She moans my name, so I do it again, alternating between swiping my thumb and sucking her into my mouth, watching her wetness as I paint her pussy lips with it.
Her breathing grows more rapid, her hands gripping and tugging at my hair as I work her.
I chuckle against her core when her hips wiggle and her feet shuffle. “Are these flimsy pants getting in the way of you spreading your legs for me, Tabby? It’s like you’re desperate for it.”
Her eyes flash down at me, the corners of her lips tipping up, but she doesn’t give in. “No.”
I fucking love this game .
I lick my lips, and she watches me raptly with a rosy stain on her cheeks. I spread her again. “Good. I’ll just leave them there around your ankles while I enjoy myself.”
She’s about to bite out a retort, but it dies on her tongue when I slip a finger inside her.
“Did you have something to say, Tabby?”
“Yeah, it was?—”
I add a second finger and twist into her, thumb grazing her sensitive clit. I can’t look away as she writhes above me. Last night only proved that I get off on watching her, and this is no different.
“Let me guess, you hate me? And that’s why you’re fucking soaked for me.” I’m smiling when I say it, but the sincerity in her voice wipes that smile away.
“No, I don’t hate you at all. And that’s why I’m fucking soaked for you.”
My head snaps up, and there isn’t a single touch of teasing on her features. She means it. And it stirs something inside me. To know she sees me. To know she doesn’t hold a grudge.
This woman’s capacity for forgiveness is staggering. It’s what first pulled on my heartstrings, and it’s what has me hook, line, and sinker for her now.
It’s why I drop my head and go back to worshipping her right here and now. My fingers twist as I work her with my mouth.
“Rhys. Rhys. Rhys,” she chants as her legs strain and shake. And then I feel it. Her entire body goes rigid on a strangled yell. She pulls my hair hard but comes harder.
She sags against the door, tremors wracking her body, but I don’t let up. I keep going, steady and even, making sure it lasts.
Only when I hear her sigh and let out a soft, “Good god,” do I pull away. But it’s momentary. I spring to my feet and scoop her into my arms, carrying her only a few strides away to the living room.
“Not done with you yet, baby,” I murmur, placing her on her feet and bending her over the back of the couch with one firm palm between her shoulder blades. “Hold on tight. I don’t have the patience to go slow right now.”
Her fingertips sink into the soft leather, and I’m untying the waistband of my sweats when she looks over her shoulder to watch me. Eyes glassy, lips damp, ponytail all fucked up, pussy on display. She looks downright wild as she eyes me up and responds with a breathless, “I’m waiting.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as I yank on my pants, patience shot. “You know how fucking hot you are like this? How fucking perfect you look? How fucking distracted you make me? I should be working, and all I can think about is you. ” Her tongue darts out as I make quick work of my boxers. My cock springs free, and her gaze latches on to it immediately. I wrap my hand around it and pump once.
“And this . Been imagining this view while I fuck my hand for months now.” I run the tip through her wetness, smirking when I see her clench and shiver at the contact.
And as promised, I don’t make her wait. Gripped at the base with my opposite hand on her lower back, I feed my cock into her dripping pussy. Her forehead drops to the top of the leather cushion as she moans, and my mind goes blank at the snug, hot feel of her wrapped tightly around my cock.
“Yeah, just like that, baby.” Fully seated, I palm her ass cheeks and spread, watching as I draw back out, her pussy gripping me and leaving a wet sheen behind. “All tight, and wet, and bent over, moaning for me. That’s the dream, right there.”
A throaty, “Again,” followed by tipping her ass up, is the only response I get. And since I would give her anything she wants right now, I flex my hips and slide back in with a deep groan.
Her panting filters back as I fill her, fingers flexing and slipping against the leather. “This position is…” Her head shakes, and her muscles contract around my width.
“Is it too much?” I draw out and push in again, harder this time, drawing the sexiest fucking noises from her.
“No, it’s just deep . I can take it.”
“Of course you can. Fucking look at you. You take it like you were made for me.” Again, I thrust into her, drawing a deep hum from her lips along with another shake of her head. “Let me hear you work for it, Tabby.”
“Holy shit,” she curses as I pick up the pace, hands sliding to her hips for purchase.
As if that was the permission she needed to get loud, the curses come more quickly, more breathlessly. Her whimpers turn to shouts. Her screaming, “Fuck,” turns to, “Fuck me harder, Rhys!” The sound of my hips slapping against her ass sets the pace as we meet each other stroke for stroke.
When she shatters, I feel it. I hear it. It’s harder and louder than the first orgasm, and my vision blurs as I follow her over the edge, pulsing in the vise grip she’s giving me. Even as I draw back, cum spills from my cock. It slips out of her pussy, and I don’t miss the opportunity to fist myself, swipe the white mess off her puffy lips, and push it back in on a long, slow stroke.
“Fuck, Tabby. Fuck.” My palm slides up the column of her spine as my eyes close and my head drops.
“Yeah,” is all she says as she goes soft over the back of the couch. “Tell me and my sacral chakra all about it.”
I chuckle, folding over her to press a kiss at the back of her neck. She smells like the laundry soap on the tank top she’s still wearing, and the lavender essential oil Gwen dotted on us all at the end of class.
When I stand and pull away, I watch a line of my cum trickle down her inner thigh and like the sight of it a lot more than I should.
She turns to look at me with a quirked brow. “Enjoying the view of the mess you made?”
“Promised I wouldn’t keep any more secrets from you, so…” I shrug. “Yeah, I am.”
A shy smile graces her lips, and she shakes her head at me.
But her expression turns hungry again when I add, “Think I’m gonna throw you over my shoulder and enjoy the view in the shower next.”
And I do.