Chapter 11 #3
I’m ready to weep by the time he spears me with his thick finger, gliding it in and out of me so slowly I want to scream. I clench around him and feel his deep chuckle everywhere before he slides another finger inside me, rocking the heel of his hand against my swollen clit.
“Rhys,” I whisper on a heavy breath. My legs are beginning to shake. It’s so much I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it. And if I can, can I stay quiet?
“That’s it, hen,” he praises me. “Feel how wet you are for me, how your pussy tries to hold me inside of you, not letting me go.”
“Yes,” I pant.
“Feel how your body reacts to my touch,” he says as he strikes that place deep inside me, driving my arousal even higher. The need to come is barreling through me and my heart beats even faster.
“Please,” I beg.
“That’s it, hen,” he croons. “I love hearing you beg for me. Do you want to come on my fingers or my cock?”
But then, as I fight thrashing around in my seat, desperate to climax, I see something I shouldn’t, or more accurately, someone.
Suzanne, Lady Thomley, or more specifically, the woman who tried to kill me on the orders of the Dowager Queen, is in a box across the theater. And she’s staring directly at me.
“Rhys—”I have to get his attention but he’s still striking my clit with the heel of his hand while his fingers thrust against my g-spot. “Please. Baby. Listen.”
Unfortunately, he thinks I’m begging to come and doesn’t stop to listen to me. “You’re right my love, I want to feel you come on both,” he says as me moves faster inside me. I’m helpless to stop this rollercoaster and I squeeze my eyes closed as the most earth-shattering orgasm rips through me.
Before I even open my eyes, Rhys is moving me behind the curtain at the back of our box, and when I look back at where I saw her, she’s gone.
I wonder if I imagined it all between the scare with my sweet kitty and the champagne and the orgasm, but still, what a weird thing to imagine…
“I have to have you,” he says as he turns me toward the wall. “I shouldn’t be hard again, but near you I always am.”
“Rhys—” I try to get his attention again, but he’s lost to the passions he thinks we’re still sharing, and we are. I’m just confused, I think.
“I don’t ever want this feeling to go away,” he says as he places my hands on the wall to brace myself as he pulls my hips back. “I never want this desire for you to go away. I think I’ll be hard for you on the day that I die.”
“Baby. Baby, please,” I beg.
“Tip your hips back,” he commands and without thinking, I do as I’m told. “Just like that.”
I hear the teeth of his zipper hiss as he opens his trousers and then the back of my skirt is lifted up over my ass.
“Fuck,” he says when he sees my stockings that go up to my waist and my thong underneath. I feel his hands at the juncture of my thighs and then he jerks at the expensive material, ripping the gusset of my stockings apart and pulling my thong to the side before he thrusts deep inside of me.
“Oh God,” I whisper, feeling so full as my body stretches to accommodate him and how deep he is inside me at this angle. He covers my back with his massive body.
Rhys grips my waist in his massive hands. He makes me feel small and dainty even though I’m anything but. Pulling out, he drives back inside me. “Fuck, but I love the way your cunt takes me, takes all of me. I could fuck you until I die,” he says.
“Yes,” I pant as he takes me roughly, plunging in and out of me.
The only sounds in the box are those of sex as he drives me closer and closer to another climax.
My body tingling in a way that it feels as if the last orgasm he gave me almost never ended—just waned a bit—only to be brought back to the brink.
He glides his hands up my torso to the delicately folded fabric that makes up the sweetheart cut of the bodice and pulls it down, letting my heavy breasts swing free before he covers them with his hands.
He massages them, pulling at my nipples, rolling them into tight little buds.
The sensation of him, my husband, moving inside me, touching me, holding me, it’s all too much.
I turn my head to look back out into the theater and I see her again, watching me as Rhys drives into me harder and faster. But what I see that Suzanne does not, is the earl has stepped into her box and is sneaking up on her with a wicked smile on his face.
“I can’t stop,” he says as he plunges into me again and again.
“Rhys—” I gasp as he lowers his hands down to my hips, holding me tight as he thrusts roughly into me.
“I need you to come, hen.”
“Baby,” I pant as he hits that spot again and again.
But I’m no longer lost to my husband; I’m watching the earl wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. Her eyes go wide as she realizes what’s happening and she scratches at his hands, but he just laughs.
“Fuck, wife,” he growls as his thrusts become erratic. “It gets better every time. You’ve ruined me.”
Lady Thomley flops forward as the light leaves her eyes, and the earl winks at me as he begins dragging her away.
I panic. Rhys takes my thrashing as enthusiasm and jerks inside me as he comes and tears slide silently down my face.
I squeeze my eyes closed again. I know when I open them the earl and Lady Thomley will be gone.
“Hen?” Rhys asks. He realizes that I’m crying as he pulls out and begins to right our clothing. “Stella, darlin’ you’re scaring me. Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I whisper.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s dead.”
“Yes, that’s how this opera goes… Is that all this is about?” he asks.
“No, not the show,” I try to explain but I’m beginning to become hysterical. “Suzanne.”
“Lady Thomley?” he asks, confusion written all over his face. “She’s committed treason. When she’s found, she’ll have to answer for those crimes. I know you felt a friendship with her, but her actions were unconscionable.”
“I know that,” I snap. “But she was here. I saw her.”
“Where?” he asks me, suddenly all seriousness.
“She was in that box across the way that’s dark now,” I explain. “She’s gone now.”
“When did you notice her?”
“When you were… um…” I try to explain. “Touching me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I tried to, but you… What you were doing was proving to be hard to resist,” I explain.
“And after your orgasm?” he asks like I’m an idiot.
“When I opened my eyes, she was gone.”
“So you probably imagined it,” he says. “It’s been an exhausting and emotional day; I shouldn’t have taken you so roughly. You’re too tired.”
“No, Rhys,” I try again. “You don’t understand. I saw her die.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you pulled me behind the curtain…” I still feeling embarrassed talking about what we did up here. “When we were… um… together… I saw her again. But this time the earl was sneaking up on her and he strangled her.”
“That seems a bit far-fetched, no?” he asks.
“You just told me to be careful around them because they’re dangerous,” I counter.
“Exactly, and that has put wild ideas into your head,” he says.
“Excuse me?”
“I think it’s best if we leave early,” he says. “The show will be over in another hour so we can sneak out now, go home, and get some sleep.”
I feel my stomach sour at how silly and stupid he must think me to be.
I know what I saw but there’s no way to convince him of that now.
The only thing I can do is let him take me home and get a good night’s sleep.
I’ll think of what to do tomorrow. Until then, I do the only thing I can. I agree with him.
“Okay.”
It’s not giving up; it’s postponing the fight. I’ve come too far to give up now.