Chapter 20
Sloane
Rhys returned my smile, then fisted his cock, gently sliding the tip along my slit, my hips bucking involuntarily. He coated himself in my arousal, a moan spilling from my lips when he teased at my entrance.
God, he’s fucking huge.
Rhys smirked as if reading my mind. “It’ll fit, Sloane.” He reached up to massage my breast, gently rolling my nipple between his finger and thumb. “Relax, baby.” I sighed in response, my eyes falling shut, then snapping back open when he pinched the hardened tip softly. “Eyes on me.”
I nodded, swallowing hard and looking back up at him.
He hissed out a breath as he inched forward, gently easing inside. I inhaled sharply, relishing the burn as he stretched me out. Rhys paused, and I knew he was giving me a second to adjust, but I didn’t want it.
My legs tightened around his hips, urging him forward. “Please, don’t stop,” I begged, once again hating the vulnerability in my voice, but my whole body shivered for more. I needed more.
Rhys leaned forward, his lips finding the column of my throat, making his way up to my earlobe, and nibbling softly. “Tell me what you need, Sloane,” he whispered against my skin.
God, I would sell my fucking soul to have him whisper against my neck like that every night from now on.
My body shivered again, his trail of open-mouth kisses leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You, Rhys. I need you—” I gasped as he pushed inside of me a little more, “—I need to feel you inside of me, I want you to fill me, Rhys. God, make me come again.”
I cried out, the slight pain of Rhys driving into me was quickly replaced by pleasure. “Fuck!” My fingernails dragged down his back, breaking skin and making Rhys hiss under his breath.
This was heaven. Flesh on flesh, white-hot pleasure burning at my core, there was no fucking way anything got better than this.
My back arched, my eyes squeezing shut. My lungs and brain were depleted of the necessary oxygen to help me think straight.
“Eyes. On. Me.” He punctuated each word with a hard thrust, and there were no words to describe what was happening with my body right now.
How the hell could someone be so gentle and so rough at the same time? How can my body have such a deep, visceral reaction to two different extremes? I was floating, but somehow completely grounded, feeling every single sensation zapping through my veins like I was gripping a live wire in my palms.
Every sexual experience paled in comparison to Rhys.
He was my fucking sexual awakening.
I did as I was told, peeling my eyes open and meeting his gaze, forest green eyes filled with nothing but lust.
His arm looped under my knee, hitching my leg over his shoulder, and it took an excessive amount of strength to keep my eyes open as he adjusted his weight, hitting deeper with every thrust.
I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back as his hips snapped against me with overwhelming force, my mind focused on two things: keeping my eyes on him and the intense pleasure that was absolutely numbing my brain.
I saw Rhys’s smug-ass smile return through the tears blurring my vision. He leaned down, pressing his mouth against mine, sucking on my bottom lip softly before swallowing the moans that flew from my mouth. He pulled away when my eyes reopened and immediately focused on him. “Good girl.”
Fuck.
“God, fucking look at you, Sloane. You’re taking me so well, baby. You feel so fucking good.”
I moaned at his praise, soaking up every single word and every gentle kiss, my back arching again when his mouth sealed around my nipple, biting softly before soothing the pain with a swirl of his tongue.
Hearing his praise melted my insides. Warmth spread through me, tingling from my head to my toes. I wanted to spend the rest of my life making him proud and hearing those words.
His hand slid down my body, his middle finger finding my clit again, a deep moan flying from my lips at the connection.
My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips to mine, our tongues swirling together. Rhys met my teasing licks with aggressive ones, reminding me of exactly who was in control. His finger moved in painstakingly slow circles, pushing closer and closer to my third climax of the night.
I moaned loudly, my toes curling as a familiar pressure built in my lower belly. “God, right there, Rhys! Please, right there!” My fingernails dug into his back, leaving my mark in small indentations on his bare skin.
For the first time, Rhys’s movements faltered. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his forehead, his brows furrowing. His thrusts lost rhythm as his eyes pinched shut.
I reached up, scraping my nails against his scalp before fisting his hair and pulling gently.
Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to capture his attention.
“Eyes on me, baby,” I whispered, the seductive nature of my voice taking me by surprise.
“I want you to see me fall apart, Rhys. I’m so close. I want you to see what you do to me.”
He groaned, his eyes flying open. “You’re fucking perfect, Sloane.” Rhys’s teeth nibbled along my neck before he pulled away, meeting my gaze again. “I want to watch you come, baby.”
Rhys thrust into me one last time, and we both fell over the edge together. A mixture of gasps and moans filled the room, both of us panting and struggling to breathe as our bodies shook with pleasure.
My hips bucked as Rhys stroked one last circle around my sensitive clit before pulling away, shifting his weight off me.
His forehead fell against mine, both of us gasping for breath.
I raked my fingers through his sweaty hair, capturing his lips in a slow, intimate kiss as he softened inside me. “Thoroughly disappointed,” I teased, Rhys’s chest vibrating with laughter.
He lifted his head, his face flushed, lips swollen and pink. “I hate you.”
I joined his laughter, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I know.”