Chapter 27
27
MADDIE
R hys’s lips feather onto mine, and every nerve ending from head to toe lights up.
I was right. This is exactly what a kiss is supposed to feel like.
The sensation of Rhys’s lips pressing against my own proves that every song, every poem, every novel that glorifies the idea of a kiss wasn’t lying. They weren’t talking about something idealized or imagined, something that can never be truly experienced in the real world—because I’m experiencing it right now.
Kissing Rhys Callahan is even more than everything I ever dreamed it would be.
The air crackles around us as his mouth moves against mine. He starts slow, tentative, restrained. His lips caress me languidly. Pleasure skitters through me as the sensitive skin of my inner lip slides against the plush, soft smoothness of his.
He’s so close to me it’s overwhelming. Our noses nudge together, the intimacy of the contact sparking an emotional thrill, somehow sharp and soft at the same time.
When I pull in a breath, it’s suffused with his scent. It’s a sandalwood smell that’s clean and smooth, but with a musky, masculine undertone.
Rhys angles his mouth, deepening our kiss. Now my senses aren’t just flooded with his scent, but with his taste as well. Raw desire roars to life inside me.
Heat gathers between my thighs, a knot of hot tension coiling and pulsing deep in my core. My heart flutters, my stomach flips, and it feels like my whole center is a warm, liquid throb.
I press closer against him, and I feel the hard outline of his erection.
I suck in a gasp through our kiss.
He’s so big, so hard, even through our layers of clothes. Sheer want like I’ve never felt before ripples through me.
Rhys’s rough, strong hand grips the side of my neck. The pad of his thumb scrapes the sensitive area underneath my ear. My nipples go taut underneath my sweater. When Rhys makes the smallest of motions, the friction against the sharp points sends a new wave of pleasure washing over me.
Rhys groans with satisfaction into my mouth, and I reply with a soft moan.
His tongue sweeps across the seam of my mouth, and I open for him. His tongue darts past my lips, slanting against mine. His fingertips press into the back of my neck and he pulls me closer, his tongue prodding greedily into me, his kiss turning rougher. I spear my hands into his soft, thick hair, gladly meeting his force.
I’m drowning in overwhelming sensation. I can’t even believe how good it feels to kiss Rhys; to be kissed by him. If this feels so good, how good is everything else with him going to feel? A delicious ache pulses at the height of my thighs.
He pulls back, and when my eyes open, my breath catches in my throat.
Rhys Callahan post-kiss is like a sex dream come to life.
His hair is messy from where I grabbed it, his lips are swollen, his gaze is hooded, and the lines and angles of his expression are sharpened with intensity as his eyes tether to mine.
He kissed me, but he still hasn’t answered me. He still hasn’t told me he’ll do what I asked him to.
“Will you?” I ask, only realizing how breathless I am after hearing the thin whisp of my voice.
His jaw muscles arc. The whiskey-hued gleam in his eyes sharpens. His brow lowers.
He nods. “Yes.”
Relief and excitement flood me.
His hand drags along the outline of my jaw until he holds my chin. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, swollen and aching deliciously from our kiss.
“But we’re going to do it right,” he says, his voice low a rasp.
My forehead furrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m not just going to screw you like we’re ticking off a box on a fucking checklist,” he says. “You want it to feel right? You want experience ?” Flames lick in his amber eyes at the word. “I’m going to show you everything, so you know exactly what you like, what feels good for you, what gets you off. If we do this, it won’t be a one-time thing.”
Heat blasts through me, excitement winding me tight. My imagination comes alive picturing everything Rhys has in mind.
Yeah, I think his terms are acceptable.
I nod. “Okay.”
A smile carves on his mouth. It’s sly, devilish, and so sexy that it’ll be a wonder if I don’t find out my panties have disintegrated when I get home.
“When’s the next time you’ll have your dorm to yourself for a while?” Rhys asks. His hand still holds my chin, tilting my head back to look up at him, his thumb still resting just below my lower lip.
“Monday,” I answer. “Jasmine has a study group. She’s always out for more than an hour.”
“More than an hour.” His eyes gleam. “Perfect.”
Tonight, my life has changed in ways I couldn’t have imagined even one week ago. I just wish I were positive that I’m not going to end up regretting it.