Chapter Sixteen
Max
Oh my God. My back arches, pushing my breast to Rhys like an offering. A low moan wells in my chest. His mouth closes around me, and my senses spin. I cling to him, my fingers digging into his taut shoulders.
Heat from my breast pulses all the way to my belly and spreads. The sensation is acute and unfamiliar. It’d be scary if I didn’t trust him. I grip him hard, urging him to keep going—and at the same time, wanting him to do more.
This is a terrible idea, a tiny voice in the back of my head whispers—and every cell in my body bristles in defiance. How can something that feels this good be bad?
I’ve never been turned on like this, never felt this high or wet from just the beginning of foreplay. So I’m just going to enjoy the magic dick that gets women without any effort. Fuck “consequences”—time to grab a chance to feel amazing.
I tug at the hem of Rhys’s shirt, pulling it out of his pants and slipping my hands under the fabric. My eyes have feasted on the stunning ridges of his abs. Now my hands get to play.
My fingers trace the lines. They aren’t just lean, they’re hard and responsive. The muscles flex and jerk with every soft brush. The tender flesh between my legs throbs in response. My heart races faster with excitement and power. His reaction makes me feel in command and sexy.
Oh, yes.
Rhys switches breasts, his wicked tongue flicking the tip and teasing a gasp out of me.
Liquid heat gathers between my thighs as his impatient hand glides under the hem on my dress.
He smooths the soft curves of my side and belly with his hot, slightly callused palms, leaving me fevered and shaking.
Finally, he cups my bare butt and squeezes.
I bite my lip to contain a rising moan, almost embarrassed at how turned on I am.
“Don’t do that. Let me hear you.”
Yes, sir. A soft cry tears from my throat. He shudders, his eyes darkening to midnight blue. He pushes my dress up, pulling it over my head. I shift to help him. Once it’s gone, I take my bra completely off and throw it on the floor with the dress.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” I pout, my gaze tracing each lean, powerful line of his torso. “I want to see you, too.”
With a lopsided smile full of indulgence, he rises to his knees and rips at his dress shirt, the buttons literally flying off, then undoes his belt buckle. With a soft hiss of the zipper, and a few quick tugs and pulls, he strips out of everything.
Some men wear clothes to make them look bigger or slimmer or better proportioned.
Not Rhys. His clothes have been hiding the raw physicality of his body—the insanely broad shoulders, the trim waist and hips, the strong, well-muscled legs.
Between his thighs, his cock thrusts forward—long, thick and straight.
Purple veins stand along the shaft, and the plum-shaped head glistens with precum.
Air catches in my throat. “Oh my God, you’re gorgeous.”
He smiles. “Glad you like what you see.”
I flush, just realizing that I said that out loud. Well, in for a penny… I give him a saucy grin. “I love what I see.”
His breathing hitches. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He ravishes me like he can’t get enough. The pad of his thumb brushes over the highest point of my cheekbone, then circles over the bridge of my nose.
I place a hand over his, and he kisses the spot where his thumb touched. “Freckles,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“You have freckles. Very cute.”
I blink. I thought he would profess his love for my breasts or lady parts. Freckles are…sort of an unusual fetish—
As though he can sense my confusion, he adds, “I love them. I love it that you have them, and I love it that I can see them when your guard is down—when you don’t have on the makeup and everything else that you wear before facing the world.
I can’t explain it”—he frowns a little—“but seeing them makes it feel like we’re…
very close.” He looks at me to see if I get it. And I do.
As much as this intense interaction makes me hot and bothered, I also feel a little exposed that he sees something I don’t normally show to the world, even during sex. The sensation brushes over my heart, leaving me shivering.
Suddenly I don’t want to feel vulnerable.
I just want hot sex. I want to prove to myself that Jeffrey is wrong.
That I don’t take forever, that I’m sexy as hell, and he’s going to be on his knees weeping with regret for disrespecting me.
I don’t need that filthy cootie-licker to be happy and fulfilled.
I cradle Rhys’s face. “Make me feel good. I want you in every way possible—now.”
Fire erupts in his eyes. I catch my breath, trembling with anticipation. He rips the thin strings on my thong. My eyes on his, I spread my legs, wanting him to see how ready I am.
He glides his middle finger down the folds and lets out a groan. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
I start to bite back a moan over how good his touch feels, but then remember that he wants to hear me. I whimper softly as he fingers me up and down, each time bumping against my swollen clit.
Pleasure winds through me, sweeter and more potent than the champagne or chocolates. He moves with precision and complete focus, his burning blue eyes holding mine. I want to close them, but I can’t seem to break contact. I have a feeling that if I do, he might stop. And I’d rather die.
Delicious shivers rush through me. He pushes the finger deep inside me. I spasm around it, gripping it tight.
“More, more,” I whisper, moving my hips.
Lust blazes in his eyes. He pushes another finger in, then adds one more, driving deep inside until he finds that perfect spot. He strokes it gently, and my whole body shakes.
“You devil,” I gasp.
He merely laughs with satisfaction, increasing his tempo. He watches my face as he tries different strokes, speed and strength. Each feels amazing in its own way.
My fingers tunnel into his hair, gripping him hard. I pant, rocking against his hand and chasing my first orgasm. He groans in approval and takes a nipple into his mouth. The tension inside me tightens. I move against his hand in a frenzied rhythm until his final stroke pushes me over the edge.
I let out a scream, my back arching. He lets me ride his fingers for a few moments, drawing out the bliss eruptions, and then his cock glides into me in one powerful stroke. I shake as his massive erection stretches me. I can feel it pulsing, and for some reason, it’s unbearably arousing.
I kiss him, our tongues tangling and our mouths fused. He drives into me hard and fast, like he can’t control himself anymore. And I love it: This mesmerizing, powerful man is helpless in my arms.
A hot thrill sizzles along my spine. I struggle to drag in air as I lose myself in another mind-shattering orgasm. My legs tightly wrapped around him, I scream myself hoarse.
His hand next to my head fists the sheet as he thrusts hard and deep. I lose myself in the bliss of having him inside, my body shaking with every impact. I writhe as a third orgasm rips through me.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans as he drives into me, then immediately pulls out.
Hot white fluid spurts all over my belly. His face flushes with pleasure as he loses himself in a tidal wave of ecstasy, the tendons in his neck tight. Looking up at him, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful, never felt this relaxed and fulfilled.