Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Rhys
I kiss her like there's nothing left in the world but the two of us. Like if someone offered me another fifty years of living without her versus another five seconds of having her exactly like this, I wouldn't waste a single one of those five seconds deciding.
It's tender and it isn't, both at once, my mouth still finding the salt of her tears at the corner of her lips before I pull back just far enough to kiss them away properly, one cheek and then the other.
“You're really kissing me.” She's looking up at me with the sweetest look of wonder in those gorgeous eyes. “Why?”
I laugh, low and a little dark. “Yes, I'm kissing you. Is that okay?”
“Don't you dare stop, Rhys Pham.”
I don't. But when I pull back so she can breathe, she says it again, quieter. “No, really. Tell me why. Please. I need to hear it.”
I smile at her. “Because I'm done not kissing you.” The words come out honest and real. “Done nearly hurting myself trying not to touch you. Done pretending there's anything in this world I could possibly hate more than not fucking kissing you.”
Her mouth drops open. “You just swore.”
“Yes. Would you like me to do it again or go back to kissing you?”
She grabs a handful of my shirt and hauls me back down to her. “I hate you. For ever stopping in the first place.”
I kiss her hard until our lips bruise and then whisper against her mouth. “I hate me too. Stupidest thing I've ever done, and I've done some shitty stupid things.”
“I could get behind this foul-mouthed version of you.”
I cock an eyebrow. “You remember just how foul-mouthed I can be?”
She goes pink, even as her tongue runs along her bottom lip.
“No?” I tuck a knuckle under her chin. “Okay. Let me remind you.”
I gently push her down onto her office chair and drop to my knees in front of her, both hands closing round her hips to drag her to the very edge of the seat. She makes a startled little sound, hands flying to my shoulders.
“What are you doing?”
“Reminding you of the dirty things my mouth can do.”
Her breath catches and I know she's remembering, just as I have remembered countless times since the last time she graced me with the taste of her.
I push her skirt up her thighs, slow, and bury my face against her, breathing her in. She's everything I remember and somehow more, and I hook two fingers into the edge of her underwear and drag it down her legs, mouth already working its way up the inside of her thigh.
“Eyes on me,” I say, looking up into her wide eyes. “I want to watch you fall apart, Alexi.”
She nods and I know she's not going to look away. She wants me to see what I do to her.
The second my tongue finds her sweet little button, she lets out a throaty moan, one hand fisting in my hair, and I don't let up.
I lick and nip until she's shaking, work two fingers slow and deep inside her while I talk against her skin — telling her how many nights I've lain in bed with my hand wrapped around my hard cock imagining doing just this, how it's been her, only ever her, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise.
“You taste like heaven.” I curl my fingers, find the spot that makes her hips jerk off the chair, and groan against her when she does it again. “Fuck. Do that for me again, beautiful.”
Needing to get deeper inside her, I hook her legs over my shoulders, tongue working in slow, deliberate circles around her clit while my fingers curl inside her.
“God, I'm so close,” she moans. It only spurs me on and I move my fingers to her clit as I ram my tongue deep inside her. Her whole body stiffens just before she comes apart with a broken sound, teeth sinking into her own hand to muffle it.
“Don't you dare.” I pull back just far enough to say it, voice wrecked. “Don't you dare go quiet on me. Let me hear exactly what I do to you.”
She does. Moaning my name like a prayer, over and over, shaking a little more with every lick of my tongue over her throbbing clit.
When she finally stops shaking I get to my feet, and something in her face flickers, panic maybe, some old instinct that I'd sown there, and her hand shoots out to catch mine before I've even moved.
“I'm right here.” I lean down and kiss her slow, letting her taste herself on my mouth, until I feel her believe it. “I'm not going anywhere near that door. I promise.”
Then I step back and undress, and she watches me do it, eyes dragging over every inch of me, of my aching cock, like she's committing me to memory, teeth pulling at her bottom lip in a way that has me even more painfully hard by the time my pants hit the floor.
“Keep looking at me like that,” I tell her, “and this isn't going to last as long as I'd like it to.”
I take her hand, pull her up out of the chair, and sit myself down in it instead. She slips out of her dress and then I guide her down to straddle my lap.
“I've got a condom in my wallet,” I say, so she knows she has a choice, even with my hands already gripping her hips like I'll die if she gets up. “Do you want me to use it? All you have to do is nod.”
“I've slept with Zachary. And Marcus.” She says it steady, watching my face for a reaction I don't let her see. “Without one. They've both told me they've never done that with anyone else.” A pause. “You get to make the call. But I trust you.”
I kiss her before saying, “There's no one else I would've wanted to do this with. I haven't so much as thought about another woman in years, let alone thought about having sex with them.”
She narrows her eyes. “So the condom was for me? On the off chance we might have sex one day?”
I grin. “Hey, forgive a man for hoping.”
She laughs, low and a little wicked, and that laugh nearly finishes me before we've even started. She reaches between us and takes hold of me, works me once, twice, her thumb dragging over the head until my hips buck up into her fist and I have to grab her wrist to make her stop.
“Alexi,” I warn.
“Yes, Rhys?” All fake innocence.
“You keep doing that and I'm not going to be inside you for very long once you finally let me.”
She grins, and lifts her hand to her mouth, licking up the glistening drop of my arousal she's collected as she sinks down onto me, slow, her eyes locked on mine the entire way like she's daring either of us to look away first. I let out a long hiss.
She is sheer fucking perfection, tight, slick, gripping me like she was made for my cock, and when she finally bottoms out we're gasping for breath, foreheads pressed together, her hands braced on my shoulders, my palm spread flat against the small of her back like I could somehow hold her closer than this.
“Fuck. You feel like coming home.” My hand slides up into her hair, fisting gently, tipping her face to mine. “My cock belongs inside you.”
Then we're moving, fast and deep. I grip her hips and drag her down onto me every time I drive up into her, hard enough that she cries out, and the sound goes straight through me.
“That's it. Take every inch of me, beautiful.” My voice has gone feral, barely mine. “I'm never going to be able to get enough of you, I don't think there's a time when I'll stop wanting more of you.”
“Rhys, you feel so good filling me up.” She rocks against me, chasing her pleasure, and I can feel her tightening around me already, too soon, and I'm not ready to let her finish like this.
I stand with her still wrapped around me and carry her over to the couch instead, laying her on her back and following her down, her legs locking around my waist as I drive into her, deep, the full length of me every single time.
“Look at you.” I catch both her wrists and pin them over her head, my mouth dropping to her nipple, tongue circling before I bite down, gentle, just enough to make her gasp.
“Taking my cock so well, aren't you? You like feeling my cock stretch this sweet cunt?
Love the idea that it's about to be dripping with my cum?”
She groans at my words. “Feel so go—”
I don't let her finish. My other hand slides between us to find her clit until I feel her start to tighten around me again, and I ease off, just enough, kissing her instead until the edge passes, watching her face the entire time, greedy for every single thing it's doing.
“Not until I'm ready for you,” I murmur against her jaw. I play with her, urging her closer to the edge, then pulling back, feeling it all with my cock buried deep in her delicious pussy.
When I finally push her over the edge, she goes rigid underneath me, nails dragging down my back hard enough to sting, her whole body clamping around mine so tight I nearly lose it right there.
The pleasure builds so fast after that I lose my rhythm completely, thrusting into her hard and wild until it takes me too, until I'm spilling into her in long shattering pulses, groaning her name against her throat like it's the only word I have left.
I can feel myself twitching inside her, feel her pulse around me in answer, feel the slick, messy proof of exactly what we've just done, and for one long, wrecked, perfect moment neither of us moves at all.
“I knew you'd ruin me.” I press my mouth to her collarbone, breathing her in as I collapse over her, catching myself on one forearm so I don't crush her completely, her fingers already sliding into my hair, and I press my mouth to her sternum and say something against her skin she's not meant to hear.
She hears it anyway. She doesn't say anything back, not in words, but her hand tightens in my hair, and that's answer enough for now.
We lie tangled together trading soft, half-teasing things back and forth in the dark of her office. Things I'll remember forever and forget the moment I've spoken them. Eventually I make myself get up, and I grab her dress from the floor.
I can't help letting out a chuckle at the way there's no doubt what we've just been up to in here.
“What?” she says with a pout.
“Nothing,” I say, kissing her because I can't not. “We're going home.”
She shakes her head as she stands in front of the mirror, trying to pat her hair into submission. “I can't. It's still early. It's bad enough I've already missed a few days — it'll affect my application.”
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow at her in the mirror. “A few hours off, because you were involved in a violent incident, is going to sink your application? Does that sound like the kind of place you actually want to work?”
“I—”
“Yes?”
“—don't like arguing with you.”
“I don't like arguing with you either.” I help her zip her dress and spin her round to face me. “Difference is, it bothers me because I hate upsetting you. It bothers you because you hate losing.”
She scowls. “I take back every nice thing I've ever said about you.”
“Good thing there haven't been that many.”
“I would've said more if you weren't such an argumentative runaway-erer.”
I lean in, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “How about I never run again? Does that earn me any points back?”
She thinks and then says, “What about letting me win occasionally?”
“And give up the one thing about me you like best? Never.”
She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling, and it might be my favourite combination of expressions on her face ever.
“Come on,” I say again, softer this time. “Let's go home. I think there's a conversation we need to have. And not just between us.”
Something sobers her face. “Yeah. I think so too.”
“Hey.” I catch her chin, gentle, before she can disappear too far into it. “Whatever gets said tonight, I meant what I told you, I'm not—”
A knock cuts me off. One quick rap and then the door's already swinging open before we can say anything.