Chapter Eight
Louisa would never understand what possessed her to do something so utterly immoral and wanton, but she had never experienced anything so sensual before.
Here stood before her a man who appeared carved from stone, with bands and bulges of sinewy muscles across the landscape of his body.
He was the very essence of what a man was, and his gentle commands had released her from having to second-guess herself.
She had never done anything like this before, and yet it felt instinctual.
Like she had been waiting years to move and touch and kiss someone like Rhys that, in a moment of pure insanity, she had moved toward him and kissed the tip of his member.
He cursed, his hand moving to gently stroke the side of her face, not forcing or encouraging. Simply out of the desire to touch her.
Brazenly, Louisa stuck out her tongue and lapped at the tip of him, more surprised by the smoothness of his skin than anything else. But the gesture had a profound effect on him, for in the next moment he was on the bed, hovering over her, his hands pinning her wrists above her head.
Staring at one another, breath heavy and uneven, Rhys collected her wrists with one large hand, as he brought the other to touch her right between the breasts. She sucked in as his hands slowly drifted down her abdomen.
“I want you to do something, Louisa,” he all but growled. “I want you to relax.”
Before she could answer, however, she felt his finger on the aching spot of her sex. She tensed immediately.
“Not like that,” he said, the hint of a grin floating on his lips, causing Louisa to become frustrated. How could he smile at a time like this? “Relax.”
She tried, but then his finger was inside of her, and her entire body bucked.
“I… I can’t,” she said breathlessly.
“Why?”
“Because you’re touching me.” He removed his finger, before returning it, settling into an outrageous rhythm. Her hips lifted. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“I don’t know what, but please, Rhys, please,” she begged as his hand played with her.
He shifted his body as his head lowered over her breast and suddenly, he caught the bud of her breast between his teeth. He began to suckle at her, while still holding her hands above them as his other hand teased her sensitive flesh, moving in and out.
Louisa had never felt so warm. Her body was buzzing as he continued to play her entire body like an orchestra, while the ever-looming pleasure continued to build.
The trepidation was agonizing as a heated weight settled over her body.
He was doing something, playing to a specific end that she had only managed in privacy, and yet the mere fact that he was here, touching her, was too much. The dam began to crack.
“Rhys,” she begged, but for what she did not know. “Oh God.”
“Look at me,” he instructed.
“I can’t… I…”
“Open your eyes, Louisa. Now.”
The sight of him, his dark hair, sweat-laden brow, the sharp, dark shadows of his face. The intensity and desperation in his eyes were such that it felt equal parts of being forced and being begged.
Why was that such a delicious combination?
But then, all thought fell away as it came over her. She was only made for this moment, this excruciating pleasure and nothing else. He seemed aware of the impending orgasm, and the rogue smirked.
“What a good girl, coming on my hand,” he murmured into her lips and that was it.
Louisa’s entire body bucked and shook as a crescendo of blissful, painful pleasure rolled over her in thunderous waves. She was reeling, unaware of her husband as he shifted again, his fingers withdrawing from her only to be replaced by something heavier, more substantial.
And in a single swift movement, he was in her.
Louisa gasped out, partially from the pain, partially because his deep stroke only added fuel to her orgasmic flame.
Both were a tousled mess of wet, sweaty skin, kisses, and groans.
He worked within her, pumping and grinding until he found his own pleasure as he buried his face into the crook of her neck.
He shook as her arms encircled his back, in an almost protective way, but also because she felt a truth ignite within her heart in that very moment.
She wanted to keep him always.
Slowly the tremors that wracked his body subsided and all too soon he pulled away from her. Louisa was surprised at how desperate she felt in the aftermath of their lovemaking. She wanted to be held tightly for hours for some reason, and felt her heart drop when he shifted to leave the bed.
Rhys walked to the little table where he had scrubbed the day’s dirt from his brow and once more picked up a rag, soaked it in water, and came back to the bed. Louisa watched him with curiosity.
Without speaking, Rhys placed the rag on her stomach, causing her to flinch, but she remained still.
The cool cloth slipped down between her legs and with great care, Rhys washed her.
In the hazy aftermath, Louisa watched, stunned by the gentle nature of what he was doing.
When he finished, he dropped the rag and climbed back into bed, wrapping his arms around Louisa.
Though it was still early evening, Rhys seemed ready for bed.
Louisa rolled her back as he pulled her into his chest, mesmerized by the warmth his body radiated. If heaven were a place where one could experience utter satisfaction always, Louisa guessed that this was the closest feeling she might find on earth.
Tucked safely against the mountain of a man that was her husband, Louisa closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.
The crowing of a rooster sounded through the darkness, waking Louisa from a deep slumber.
Rolling from one side to the other, she tried to ignore the sound when she bumped into the solid, warm body next to her.
Opening her eyes, she saw Rhys, his face partially covered by the pillow he slept on, as one eye opened.
Her pulse quickened at the mere sight of him, and they stared at one another for a moment or two before he spoke.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.
“Good morning,” she replied softly.
It was a strange feeling being naked next to this man.
It would have been strange to be naked next to any man, but with Rhys she felt a stunning sense of peace.
A thread of relaxation coursed through her, and while every nerve ending seemed to be on edge when he smiled at her, it wasn’t because of the cool temperature that she shivered, but sheer excitement.
As if reading her mind, Rhys’s hand snaked around her waist and pulled her towards him, so that their bodies were touching.
He pressed his lips to her shoulder gently, littering a trail of kisses down her neck, which cause her to tremble, but he didn’t stop there.
Rhys’s mouth trailed along her clavicle as he shifted his body above hers.
He kissed down her chest, his one hand coming up to cup her breast as he took her nipple into his mouth, licking and nibbling as Louisa’s breath became shallow.
“I dreamed of you last night,” he murmured, nonchalantly, as he feasted on her.
“You-you did?” she asked, unevenly.
“Mhmm,” he answered, releasing her nipple from his mouth as he moved to kiss the underside of her breast. Louisa shivered. “In my haste last night, I forgot to taste you.”
“Taste me?” Louisa voice reached an octave higher. “What do you mean?”
The feel of his grin on her belly was enough to send Louisa into fits, but as he lowered himself farther, beneath her belly button, she began to panic. Surely, he wouldn’t…
“Rhys, wait.” She tried to sit up, but his large hands came up to her ribs and pressed her down.
“Easy, love. I know what I’m doing.”
“Yes, but I don’t.”
He chuckled, though Louisa wasn’t sure what was so humorous. His fingers splayed out as his hands drifted to her hips and, with a decisive strong hold on her waist, he pulled her down slightly as he licked her most intimate spot.
Louisa’s eyes shut tightly as the invasion washed over her. Pure panic might have been the most apt description of what she felt in that moment, but soon it was replaced by the same soothing, exciting feeling from last night.
Her mouth fell open as she began to breathe heavily.
“Rhys…” she moaned, horrified at her body as her hips bucked involuntarily.
The betrayal of her body only fueled Rhys’s attentions, as a hand slipped off her hip and came beneath her bottom. She shifted, trying to get away, but he wasn’t having it. Instead, he dragged his hand across her backside and sank one of his fingers inside of her as he continued his feast.
Louisa began to squirm, the familiar build of pleasure pumping into her with every flick of his finger.
It was mortifying, to be so at the mercy of someone, particularly in this setting, while simultaneously desperate for him to do more.
More of what, Louisa wasn’t sure; she only knew that she wanted to feel like she had last night.
“Yes, love.” He breathed on her. “How desperate you are for it. Come for me.”
Though it was hardly a command, some indecent part of her took it as such and without understanding exactly why or how it would work, Louisa’s body instantly tensed as tiny explosive jolts shook every inch of her.
She was in heaven once more, idly ignoring how blasphemous it was to compare the animalistic nature of what they were doing to the serenity of a peaceful afterlife, but she couldn’t help it.
This was the most amazing thing she had ever felt, ever experienced, and she was desperate for it.