Chapter 8 #2
And if I can’t get a grip on my life and soon, he will.
Rhys frog marches me down the hall and around the corner into the corridor of the part of the residential wing where our rooms are. He stops in front of our door with his hand on the handle and turns to issue a command over his shoulder. “We won’t need anything until it’s time to leave for dinner.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I hear Leo say from behind us and I jump at the sound of his voice. I was so lost in my own head that I forgot he was trailing us as usual.
Rhys’s body presses against my back as he throws open the main door and propels me through. He follows me in and slams the door behind us. And then he roars, “What the bloody hell were you thinking?”
I turn around to face him. I’ve been taken from my home, I’ve been threatened with venomous snakes, I’ve survived a deadly car crash, and this man thinks to shout at me?
Suddenly, I see red.
“I was thinking that everything I know and love is gone,” I bite out.
“I was thinking that something familiar was here and that I was going to have a tiny little reprieve from this Alice in Wonderland world I seem to have fallen into where everything is topsy turvy! I was thinking that finally something was going to be safe and okay for me!”
“You said you love me,” he says in a deadly quiet tone.
And I know now how truly angry he is. At me, at everything.
Maybe he doesn’t want to be in this situation any more than I do.
Maybe the queen was right and I was just a name on a list. And he was ordered by his father to pick one.
Too bad he jumped the gun on that one before dear old daddy died.
He could have saved us all a lot of trouble and heartache.
“I know.”
“Do you not anymore?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No,” he says as he stalks me. “You said that everything you know and love is gone. If you love me, then I’m right. Fucking. Here.”
“That’s not what I meant!” I cry out. “Don’t you get how hard this has all been on me?”
“I do know that,” he raises his voice at me again. “But I also know that this isn’t a fucking game!”
“I know that!” I scream as he steps closer. I shove my fingers into my hair, knocking the messy bun loose as I grasp at the strands in frustration.
“It’s fucking dangerous. You could have been fucking killed!”
“You don’t think I know that? I was in the car!”
“You could have been taken from me,” he roars as he grabs the lamp from the table next to the sofa, ripping the cord out of the socket, and flings it at the wall.
I stand there and watch as it shatters into millions of glittery little pieces. Fancy priceless antiques will do that. But it’s also the first time in a long time that I think maybe Rhys does care for me, at least more than he lets on. And how fucked up is that?
“I wasn’t,” I say, defiantly as I take the final steps toward him so that we’re toe to toe.
His chest rises and falls with his breaths, and he pauses, staring me down, before he finally speaks again.
“Thank fuck for that.” And then he spears his fingers into the remainder of my messy bun, ripping the haphazard hair tie out the rest of the way as he pulls me against his chest and crushes his mouth to mine.
I don’t know what comes over me, one minute I’m so angry I might explode, and the next I’m nothing short of wild for this man.
As his tongue presses against mine, dueling for control, I snap and start to tear at his clothes.
His suit jacket and shirt are in my way, and I need them gone as I pluck the buttons as fast as I can and shove his clothes from his shoulders.
He pulls his mouth away from mine to rip my sweater and camisole over my head, leaving me bare from the waist up.
A low, dark sound rumbles up from his chest before he crushes his mouth back to mine and grabs me by the hips, wrapping my legs around him, just in time to drop to his knees in the middle of the antique rug.
The thick, hot ridge of him has very little resistance from my thin cotton pants and his trousers as it presses against me, right where I need him most.
I gasp when he shoves the coffee table out of the way, flowers and tabletop books flying around, and then he lowers me to the carpet. Kneeling over me, between my spread thighs, Rhys grabs the waistband of my leggings and my panties and rips both down my legs, tossing them aside.
“Rhys,” I pant when he thrusts two fingers inside of me to see if I’m ready and my body bows into him, against him. All I know is that I want more. I want him.
I try to clench my legs together to slow the fire that’s threatening to consume me but his hips are in the way, and I can’t take my eyes off of his hands as they rush to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. The material falls open as he shoves them down his hips and his thick cock springs free.
“Not now, hen,” he says, his voice deep and growly as he leans over me.
He lines up the very tip of him to my opening and thrusts inside of me.
He’s still too angry for words and that’s all right by me because where we lack in verbal communication, we definitely do not when we let our bodies do the talking.
“Yes,” I rasp, shaking my head back and forth as I revel in the sting of the stretch while my body adjusts as he fills me up.
But tonight, I don’t want to adjust. I don’t want soft and sweet.
I want the sting and the heat and the burn of this fight.
If he’s not ready to let go, then I’m not either.
And maybe that’s true in more ways than one.
Thankfully, Rhys doesn’t want sweet and gentle either as he sits back on his heels, taking me with him.
I quickly wrap my legs around his waist and hold on as he lifts me up and then impales me on his thick length so that only my hair trails over the historic ornamental rug.
He leans forward and takes my nipple into his mouth, laving the hard tip with his tongue as he moves me over him.
I thrust my fingers into his hair and pull. But it’s when he bites down that I go wild. I yank on his hair and let out a high pitched whine as I arch my back and rock against him, rubbing my clit over the root of him as he works me up and down still.
He lets my breast go with a pop and looks down at me with my hair splayed all over the place, tumbling down my back. He pulls the other nipple into his mouth and bites down, hurtling me closer to the edge, but it’s still not enough.
“Please!” I beg when he lets my abused nipple go.
I wrap my legs tighter around him, gripping him with my thighs and pulling myself up to face him.
Anything in order to gain the leverage I need to ride him as he drives up into my waiting pussy.
I pant, out of breath as I slide up and down him.
The crack of his hand against my backside rings through the room, audible over our heavy breaths and the slap of our bodies as we come together again and again.
I cling to him. The heat and the sting of it have me clenching hard around him and he does it again and once more as the first waves of my orgasm begin to ripple around him.
“I could have lost you,” he roars.
I move my hands to frame his face. “But you didn’t,” I say as he works me over. “I’m here. With you.”
“I won’t lose you,” he growls as he drives harder, moving faster and faster in and out of me.
“You won’t,” I gasp as the climax reaches me.
“Yes,” he says as he leans me back onto the carpet and follows me down. “I won’t.” Rhys plunges in and out of me as one orgasm rolls into another. And just when I think I can’t possibly take anymore, he plants himself deep inside of me and fills me with his release.
We lay panting in each other’s arms when the main door flies open and Saoirse, followed by a harried Dahlia and Leo, storms in.
“Ma’am, please,” Leo says as Rhys does his best to cover me with his body.
“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised,” she snaps. “The carpets? Really, Rhys?”
“Get out,” Rhys says quietly.
My eyes go wide as I watch Dahlia do the same over his shoulder. I’ve learned that a quiet Rhys is a much more dangerous one than a shouting Rhys. Saoirse clearly hasn’t learned that lesson yet.
“Here I thought there were important things to attend to and a nation to run, a coronation to plan and here you are, rutting your whore like a pig.”
“I said get the fuck out,” he roars.
“How dare you speak to me like that—” She starts to reprimand him, remind him of the status she clings to so desperately. And in front of an audience, no less, even though that audience is made up of her daughter and me, so she clearly doesn’t think it matters.
“Bloody hell, woman. I’m the fucking king and you dare speak to me about my future queen this way?
It is you who doesn’t know your place,” he says, exasperated, before turning to Leo.
“Fucking hell, Leo, would you do me a solid and get them out of here before my cock falls off from the shock of it. Hell, I’d like to see if it still works after this. ”
“Aye, your majesty.”
“Don’t be crass,” his stepmother snaps.
“Then get out so I can fuck my bride again,” he says, causing me to hide my face in his shoulder as my cheeks heat up even more.
“We’ll talk about this later,” she snarls as she heads for the door.
“As long as it’s no’ now,” he replies.
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The movement also makes me clench and Rhys groan as he’s still deep inside of me.
“Oopsies,” I whisper as the door snaps closed once again.
“Now where were we?” Rhys asks.
“Umm… I think we were fighting?”
“No, hen. You missed it.”
“What did I miss, Rhys?”
“The end of the fight, of course,” he answers cheekily. “Now we’re to the making up part.”
“And when was the pivotal transition that I seemed to miss?”
“When you came all over my cock,” he says, his voice low. “Since you missed it the last time, be sure to pay attention now.”
I open my mouth to respond, the interlude was needed, but Saoirse’s untimely appearance is a stark reminder that there is still much left unsaid between us including the fact that she’s one of the specters that haunts our life together.
How can I focus on staying safe, remaining alive, when I’m so busy fending off barb after barb from my future mother-in-law?
I’m so focused on her and her dramas that I forget that there’s real dangers out there.
But before I can say anything at all, Rhys smiles down at me.
He clearly feels that the conflict is over and there is nothing left to resolve, and that frustrates me to no end.
I want to organize my thoughts and feelings so that I can use what little time we have left together to explain to him how I feel, he presses his lips to mine softly.
His eyes are heavy lidded as he watches me and then he begins to move, slowly sliding in and out of me all over again, reminding me that through our interruption and everything else, he never separated our bodies.
And before too long I forget everything except for him and me and the way that he moves over and inside my body.