Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
ANGEL
I’m flying. I’m falling. I’m floating somewhere in between. There’s no way I’m still standing on my own two feet. Not when Rhys’s hands are on my junk, moving me around with so much care and efficiency. The ring he put on me brought me down to earth a little, but that lick sent me right back up.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not when I’m giving myself a hand job. Not with my girlfriend in high school. Not even when I was first going through puberty and all I could think about all day was getting off.
This is a hundred times—a thousand times—more intense. It’s not just my dick that’s pulsing and throbbing. My entire body is on fire, burning with the need to come. There’s already sweat rolling down my back, soaking through my shirt. An electric current runs along the surface of my skin. My head is spinning and I have a deep need to bury my dick into something hot and tight.
A ragged sound rips from my throat as Rhys takes me into his mouth. Just the tip at first, which is good, because I can’t take any more than that right now. His tongue swirls around the sensitive head, then wiggles into my slit. A zing of pleasure shoots through me before pooling in my groin.
Oh god, I’m going to come. I’m going to come.
But I don’t.
Rhys takes in more of me, engulfing my dick in more wet heat. I still don’t come. It’s almost like I can’t. Which is exactly what I need, because otherwise I would definitely blow my load the second I laid eyes on him.
There’s barely an inch of my dick visible, with the black silicone tied around the base. Rhys’s pretty, pink lips are stretched thin, and his cheeks are hollowed out. His eyes are heavily made up today, with long, dark lashes fluttering as he gazes up at me. His hair is a soft lavender color against the darker violet of the silk and lace he’s wearing.
I’ve never seen a man in lingerie before, but I don’t need to compare Rhys to anyone to know that he wears it well. The lace panties are a triangular patch over his groin. The top also has two triangular pieces that frame his pecs, then lots of flowy fabric around his middle. The robe hangs off his bare shoulders, revealing acres of creamy skin.
He’s a vision. I can’t take my eyes off him.
Rhys pushes forward until his nose is flush against my pelvis. My dick slides right to the back of his mouth and into his throat. He swallows around me and the tight squeeze around the sensitive head of my dick is almost painful.
I cry out as pleasure roils around inside me, searching for a release valve. But there’s nothing to ease the pressure. Instead, it just builds and builds and builds as Rhys works me over with his mouth.
My hands end up in his hair as I scramble for something to hold on to. Rhys moans when the lavender strands catch in my fingers. The vibrations travel deep into my groin, adding to the growing pressure until I think I’m going to pass out.
“Wait, wait, stop.”
Rhys immediately pops off me. His chin is wet with drool and lines of spit hang between his lips and the tip of my cock. His eyes have been watering, making them gleam and glisten as he blinks up at me. He’s still holding my dick with fingers tipped in the same lavender as his hair.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but it’s no use. The image of him on his knees in front of me is already burned into my retinas. So lewd. So debauched.
“You okay, Angel?” Rhys’s voice is hoarse and it sends shivers down my spine. I did that to him. He sounds like that because my dick was in his throat.
A whine escapes me as my body tries to chase down the orgasm that’s out of my reach.
“I think that’s good.”
The unexpected voice makes me jump and only then do I remember we’re not alone. Sebastian has been beside us with a camera in his hands this whole time. His boyfriend, Christian, is right behind him.
I didn’t notice them while Rhys had his mouth on me. In fact, I completely forgot they were here. But now that I take in the cameras and lights set up around us, it dawns on me that they’ve captured everything. Every touch, every moan, every shudder. All of this, every reaction, will be on the internet at some point. Other people, strangers, will see what I did here today.
The realization should send me running for the exit. But my feet are planted firmly in place. I should be scared, terrified, sick with fear. But all I want is to haul Rhys up to me and kiss him like he kissed me earlier.
Tender and sweet. I had no idea kisses could be like that. In the past, it’s always just been a pretty mechanical lips-on-lips situation. I never got why people made such a big deal about them. But Rhys’s kiss was anything but mechanical. It was a full-body experience that I felt all the way down to my toes.
I want to do it again.
“Let’s move things to the bedroom,” Sebastian says, as he and Christian start carrying equipment from the kitchen.
Rhys gently tucks me back into my underwear, then gracefully rises to his feet. He’s wearing a soft smile, but there’s a hint of distance in his eyes. I hesitate, stopping myself from kissing him the way I want to.
He seems super into all this, eager and enthusiastic. But who am I kidding? Rhys is a professional, and this is all pretend. Of course he seems into it. It’s his job to make it look convincing. That doesn’t mean he wants to kiss me when the camera isn’t trained on us. This is nothing more than an act.
I tamp down the unexpected disappointment rising inside me and let Rhys lead me into the bedroom.
It’s pretty basic in there. A double bed sits against one wall with small nightstands on either side. The dresser that sat in the corner has been moved out to the living room to make space for one of the big lights sitting on a tall tripod. Generic art hangs on the walls.
I have to duck underneath a light and skirt around a camera to get to the bed. Once there, I gulp at the sight.
There’s absolutely nothing special about the bed. The pillows and bedspread are covered in white linen. And that’s it. Except it’s where I’ll be having sex for the very first time. Well, like, full-on sex. With a guy. With anyone. And it’ll all be caught on camera.
My stomach feels all unsettled and weird. But that’s becoming pretty normal whenever I’m around Rhys. He does things to me that I don’t understand. Things that are way outside of my comfort zone, and yet don’t scare me nearly as much as they should. Things that feel inevitable, that feel almost right.
“Angel, if you can stand right here.” Sebastian points to a spot next to the bed. “Rhys will lead you through the scene, okay? Just let him do his thing.”
Rhys gives me a wink. “You good?”
I nod and stand where Sebastian wants me, not sure where to look or what to do with my hands. I shift on my feet, wipe my palms on my jeans, and try to ignore how fast my heart is beating.
Sebastian calls action.
“Keep your eyes closed,” Rhys says, voice airy and light. “I’ll take good care of you. You’re gonna have the best orgasm of your life.”
My dick twitches at his promise and I slam my eyes shut so I won’t accidentally peek.
His hands go to the waistband of my jeans, which are still undone from earlier. He pushes them down, along with my underwear, until they’re pooled around my ankles.
He slips his hands under the hem of my tank, fingernails scraping lightly over my stomach and up to my chest. The shirt rides up and with a quick tug, he pulls it up and over my head. The fabric is caught around my shoulders. The plaid shirt I’m wearing over it has fallen halfway down my arms. I’m all tangled up in my clothes and yet fully exposed from chin to shins.
“Goddamn…” Rhys whispers, as his fingernails trail over my body. He’s gentle, but the light scrape still leaves lines of fire in its wake.
Across my chest, around my nipples, quick flicks against the swollen nubs that make my dick jump. Down to my belly and around in circles, like he might be trying to comb my body hair into a special design.
Rhys guides me back a few inches to the bed, then down until I’m lying on my back with my feet still on the floor. His hands continue to move, fingers finding the tender skin at the crease of my hips, then the tops of my thighs that I never knew were so sensitive.
His hands brush up my thighs again. One wraps around my dick, stroking and twisting, while the other cups my balls, rolling them against each other. My erection had gone down a little when we moved from the kitchen into the bedroom, but now it’s roaring back to life.
Pre-cum pumps out of me, giving Rhys more than enough to work with as he drives me crazy with his hands. Then he adds his tongue, licks and swipes and swirls.
With my eyes closed, I can’t see what he’s doing. Can’t anticipate where he’s going to touch and with what. Not knowing what’s coming next makes everything way more extreme—hotter, tighter, wetter, better.
“Ahh!” My hips come off the bed as Rhys closes his lips around me again. He sinks all the way down in one smooth motion, taking every inch of me until I’m buried in his throat.
He still has my balls in his hand, massaging them like he’s priming them to explode. But the ring around the base of my dick keeps me from ever getting there.
When he comes up for air, my dick feels cold for a second before he covers it with his hand again. It’s wetter this time, more squelchy. He must’ve added lube.
The bed dips as he arranges himself above me, one knee on either side of my hips. Then there’s a bit of fumbling before I lose my freaking mind.
It’s just something blunt against the tip of my dick at first. I can’t figure out what it is or what Rhys is trying to do. It only dawns on me when he lets out a moan and my dick is pushed into something incredibly tight and hot. He’s taking me into his body.
Oh shit. Holy crap. This is happening. This is actually happening.
I grip the sheets under me as my entire body shakes and trembles. The pressure on my dick is more than anything I’ve ever experienced. The heat is scalding. It’s so intense, so all-consuming that flashes of white light burst behind my eyelids.
“Fuck. Oh god, you’re so thick. Fuck.” Rhys’s voice sounds strangled, almost like he’s in pain.
Without thinking, my eyes fly open and the sight that greets me nearly kills me.
He’s hovering above me, hands on my torso as he holds himself up. The robe he was wearing is gone and so is the flowy top, leaving his stomach and chest and shoulders bare. But a scrap of lace still covers his dick.
Between his spread legs, I can see the fabric is bunched up and pulled to one side. My dick is harder than it’s ever been, sticking up from my pelvis and disappearing between Rhys’s butt cheeks.
Rhys’s eyes are closed. His brow is furrowed. His jaw hangs open, lips glistening under the bright lights. He looks like he’s in pain, the kind that borders on ecstasy.
A sound escapes me. Something between a growl and a groan. My hips shoot up before I can stop them, and suddenly, I’m buried in Rhys to the hilt.
Rhys gasps, loudly, his eyes opening then rolling toward the back of his head. He lets out a series of long, unsteady moans and hisses as he quivers above me.
“Oh no! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I was supposed to keep my eyes closed. I was supposed to stay still and let Rhys take the lead. And now I think I’ve hurt him.
My hands come off the bed, to do I don’t know what. Pull him off me? That might hurt him more than I already have. I freeze with my hips arched off the bed and my hands in midair, not knowing what I should do now.
Rhys takes a deep breath, then his expression becomes determined, and he thrusts himself down, shoving my hips back onto the bed.