Chapter 22 #3
It’s barely a whisper. I’ve lost all ability to talk. I wind my fingers into his hair to pull him into a demanding kiss. He chooses then to dip his hand into my knickers. When he finds the slickness already there, he growls. ‘I knew you’d be wet as fuck for me.’
I part my legs as much as I can, giving him space, hinting to him I’m ready for more, if he can’t already tell. He drags his finger through my folds, and a shudder travels up my spine.
‘It’s all for you,’ I tell him. Fuck his stupid rules.
He doesn’t reprimand me. Instead, he presses a finger to my clit, drawing slow circles over it.
My eyes flash open to find him staring at me, jaw set in a firm line, his gaze a deep blue pool, all hard and intense.
Only now does he lower his hips to mine, his hard cock pushed to my right thigh, hot through the layers of fabric.
I cover my mouth with my hand to trap the groan bubbling in my throat.
I need to do something, but every time I reach for the tie on his joggers, he swats me away. ‘This is about you, Lucy.’ He slides a finger into me and presses his hips to my leg at the same time. I clench around him, drawing him in. ‘You’re fucking tight. How much can you take from me?’
‘All of it. All of you.’
He adds a second finger, and I lift to meet him, seeking purchase and friction, anything to send me over the delicious edge without me being able to ask.
I want more fingers. I want his cock and I’m desperate to prove to him I can take it.
My mouth waters. He grinds against me as if he knows I’m thinking of his dick – how it tastes, how it would feel to have him pumping hard and hot inside me.
He plunges his fingers deeper, and I lift myself to kiss him, giving him everything I can. His tongue mirrors the thrust of his fingers. I writhe, rise, whisper my pleasure into his mouth. The coil inside me tightens, and he presses himself harder to my hip.
‘Fuck. Lucy.’
My good hand is under my top, squeezing my breast, needing the extra contact, touch. He ruts, abandoning our kisses, his eyebrows furled, concentrating. His breath comes in small puffs.
I’m lifting to the bridge of our song together. I abandon my chest and slide my hand into my waistband, joining his fingers. It’s time for him to get a lesson on how to make me come. Our first combined pressure arches my back. ‘Right there.’
‘So damn bossy.’ But he does what I tell him. Our bodies surge together. ‘Can’t fucking resist telling me what to do.’
‘Do a better job, then.’ He raises his eyebrows at me, but doesn’t stop. Instead, he takes up my challenge, his thumb increasing the pressure. ‘Yes. That’s it.’
He dry humps my leg, his movement shallow, jerky, as if he’s using all his concentration to get me there and has no control over his body. Our thrusts grow more frantic as we crescendo to the final chorus.
My breath catches. The pleasure spreads, somehow slowly and all at once, through my whole body, curling my toes, the fingers on my good hand.
The muscles in my arms, legs, neck, back, buttocks, all tense then release.
My vision darkens. My thighs clamp around our joined hands.
He thrusts once more then kisses up the column of my neck, his lips shaky against my skin.
He claims my mouth to taste all my moans.
I kiss him until I turn boneless and eventually quiet.
The moment after is pure bliss and I sink into the bed, pulling him with me. I wrap my arms and legs around him and close my eyes.
And then his fingers twitch inside me and all my senses rush back.
I’m too sensitive. Everything’s too loud, too overwhelming.
The room stinks of sex. I push him from me but he doesn’t complain.
Instead, he falls to the bed and spreads out, starfish style across the mattress.
He licks his fingers clean and I swear, my clit throbs.
‘Well, that was unexpected,’ he says between slowing breaths.
‘It’s not what I came here for.’
A stupid lopsided smile spreads over his face. ‘No? You’re the one who locked the door.’
‘So we could chat without getting caught.’
‘Some chat.’ He’s acting smug, a usually irritating trait of his, but since he made me come, I’ll forgive him.
‘The best of chats.’ The understatement of the century.
His touch was brilliant. I want to gush at him how I’ve never been treated this way.
Or tell him how a guy has never focused on only my pleasure.
It’s usually a quick orgasm – for them only – and they leave me high and dry.
But I settle on blowing my curls out of my face, trying my best to cool off. ‘I want more.’
‘Fucking bossy wench.’ He squeezes me tighter to him. ‘But yes, later. Got work to do now.’
‘Fine. Can I stay here while you work? Take a nap?’
‘Yeah. Let me crack a window open in case Cai wants his room back.’
I groan at the reminder of where we are and bury my head in a pillow while Rhys gets up to air the place out. Getting fingered in my boss’s bedroom was not high on today’s to-do list. ‘If he finds out and I get fired, I’m putting all the blame on you.’
‘Don’t worry.’ He slaps my arse then flops next to me, completely unbothered by what we’ve done. Okay, not what, but where. ‘I’ll be your sugar daddy.’ He pulls his laptop from the side and opens it. Then he extends an arm out for me. ‘You gonna cwtch me while I work?’
‘Depends what a cootch is…’
‘Cwtch. Rhymes with butch. It’s the best thing in the world.’ He reaches for me and pulls me to his side. ‘It’s the Welsh word for a cuddle.’
‘Adorable.’ My words slow and my brain empties. It’s cosy cwtched up to him. ‘Rhys?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Can we keep this to ourselves for now? I know it’ll be difficult given—’
His laugh interrupts me and he kisses the top of my head. ‘You’re the one who came looking for me, Luce. I was here, minding my own business, working. But you knocked on the door, begged me to finger fuck you. In front of a bus full of crew, our boss, the guy who pays our wages.’
I force my eyes open and prop myself up. ‘I’m new here, Rhys. We’re new. I want to enjoy it without any additional pressure. Without your sister and Cai badgering us about it. I want time to work out what we want to be. Is that okay?’
He leans forward, pecking the tip of my nose. ‘I already know what I want us to be.’
Oh. The men before him never knew what they wanted, or at least, they weren’t outwardly confident about it.
It was always too embarrassing being with a fat woman, even if we’d been speaking for years until I trusted them enough to sleep with them.
I was always let down, always made to feel like a secret.
Does it bother him now that I want to hide us for a while? Should it bother me?
He doesn’t give me the chance to question his certainty. ‘I guess you’re right. Cai and Beth are nosey fuckers. Keeping it secret, if it’s only for a short while, is fine with me.’
‘You sure?’
‘Promise.’
He steals one last kiss before drawing my head to his shoulder. We wriggle about, trying to find a comfortable spot. Once we’re settled, I slide my injured arm over his stomach and close my eyes.
But then. ‘Rhys?’
‘Thought you wanted a nap?’
‘I do. But you didn’t come. Maybe I should—’
‘Yeah, I did.’ He fixes his gaze on his laptop screen, but his cheeks redden.
‘Oh. Good. Next time, I won’t be a pillow princess.’
‘You did perfectly. Now go to sleep.’
I do as I’m told, closing my eyes. The steady tap of his fingers, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the faint rumble of music from his AirPods and a fresh orgasm keep me relaxed, and I soon drift off to sleep.