Chapter 13 #3
“I know I said I was hungry, but this is kind of a lot,” I tell him. “Also, I feel like I could sleep for one hundred years right now.”
“That’s the adrenaline from this morning,” he says, handing me half a sandwich. “Eat up.”
“Thanks,” I reply as I bite in.
Rhys picks up half of the other sandwich and devours it in a handful of bites before picking up a glass and draining half the fruit punch in it. He hands me the other glass and I grimace.
“The sugar will help with the crash,” he says, nodding to the glass in my hand.
I take a small sip and then some more when I realize how good it tastes.
He finishes his sandwich, and I pick at the rest of mine until he takes it from my hands and sets it aside on the tray. I wipe my hands clean on a napkin before he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.
“Feeling better?” he asks.
“Kind of.”
“Good,” he says as he pulls me toward the bedroom. “I know what will help…”
“I just bet you do…” I mutter as he pulls me into his chest and presses his lips to mine.
I feel his hardness grow between us and it presses into the softness of my belly. I let out a small whimper, an advantage he uses to lick into my mouth before backing me into the bedroom.
It’s not been that long since we were together, but I placed some distance between us when he didn’t believe me about what I saw at the opera. It still hurts, but I missed him and the intimacy that we share.
With Dahlia claiming Lady Thomley’s here, under the same roof as us—and has been this entire time—I can’t help but feel silly for thinking Suzanne was dead when she’s apparently very much alive. Maybe Rhys is right and it’s been too much on me. Maybe this is all finally taking its toll.
“Rhys,” I start, but he begins to peel off my clothes and lays me down in the center of our bed. “We’re going to be late.”
“Then we’ll have to move a bit faster,” he answers, reaching behind his neck to pull his shirt over his head.
I do have to admit how much I like to look at my husband. His muscular chest with a light covering of dark hair and that V at his hips that tapers down to where his thick cock is pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
“See something you like?”
“Maybe…”
“Good because I see something good enough to eat,” he says. He shucks his jeans, expertly stepping out of them while his heavy cock bobs up against his belly button. He fists it in his hand for a moment before jacking his hand up and down, making a shiny pearl of precum bead at the tip.
A hungry look crosses his face and he leans over, crawling up the bed toward me and throwing my legs over his shoulders.
I don’t even have a moment to react before his mouth is on me, sucking my clit hard.
My thighs press against his ears as if they have a mind of their own and I have no control over them.
“Rhys,” I cry out, arching my back, the very core of my body seeking him out.
I think I just might die when he thrusts two fingers inside of me, curling them up to hit the spot that makes me scream, as he rolls the flat of his tongue against my clit. There is no slow climb toward a gentle orgasm here, Rhys is about to hurtle me off of a cliff and I cannot wait.
I spear my fingers through his hair and hold him to me, begging, demanding—I don’t care which, whatever will get me the orgasm I need—and I rasp out his name. “Rhys.” I don’t even recognize my voice.
Then growls against my swollen clit and I sob as I come.
Rhys pulls his arms out from under my thighs and drags his big body up over mine, his cock finding its true home immediately, driving deep inside me and making me gasp. He plunges in and out of me, setting a brutal pace.
“Do no’ ever hide from me,” he growls, his face just inches from mine as he braces himself on his arms on either side of my head. “I canno’ take it.”
“I know,” I pant. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he says as he moves his body over mine. “Never. You’re mine. My Queen to love, My Queen to fuck. My Queen to protect.”
“Yes!” I cry.
“Forever,” he shouts as he plants himself deep inside me, filling me with his cum and triggering my own climax.
He holds me tight in his arms as he breathes heavily against the side of my head and then rolls us so we’re lying on the bed, staring at each other. His thick cock is still inside me and my head is tucked under his chin.
I rest my hands on his strong chest and wait.
Nothing is resolved. He doesn’t believe me and now I don’t believe me either, but what am I going to do?
The sex is still fire, but that’s not a great precedent to fall into for problem solving.
And as the endorphin rush from my orgasms wanes, I feel frustration settling in again and try to pull away.
“No,” he says, his arms tightening around me.
“You can’t just say no when I want to get up.”
“Aye, I can when my cock is still inside you and my cum is panting your creamy thighs,” he says.
“Don’t be gross,” I snap.
“It’s no’ gross,” he says. “It’s beautiful and besides I have something to say to you.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.” He steals my breath again. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I only want to protect you, and I didn’t take care with your feelings the way I should have.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I’m learning to be married at the same time you are,” he says. “Can I have a little grace too?”
“I don’t want to give you grace. You’re the reason my life is all topsy turvy, but I’m here now. And I love you. And you hurt me.”
“Aye.”
“How would you feel if I didn’t believe something you told me?”
“I would think that you were wrong and tell you that you were wrong,” he says with all seriousness.
“Can’t you see how ridiculous this double standard is?” I snap. “I tell you what I witnessed, and you want to lock me away for rest.”
“I’m sorry, all right?” he says. “I fucked up.”
“You did and I appreciate the apology, but it hasn’t changed anything,” I tell him sadly.
“Why no’?” he asks. “Dahlia said Suzanne is here, that people have seen her. She’s alive so you were wrong.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I shout. “You didn’t believe me. You didn’t trust me.”
“You were wrong. Doesn’t that count in my favor?”
“No,” I answer. “Because you didn’t even give my statements thought, you just disagreed and offered to ship me off to rehab.”
“And I apologized for that.”
“And again, I thank you for the apology but please excuse me if I don’t jump to share my thoughts and feelings with you in the future.” I shout so that I won’t cry because dammit my feelings are hurt.
He rolls us so that I’m on my back again with him hovering over me. “I want everything from you,” he says. “I won’t allow you to keep anything from me. Not your heart, nor your brain, nor your delicious cunt. It’s all mine and I won’t let you keep any of it from me.”
“Yes, my King.”
He sighs and then says, “We are no’ backsliding here. We’re going to work through this.”
“Yes, my King,” I repeat.
“And we’re going to work through it in the shower because we have an investiture ceremony soon.”
“Then you best let me go to get ready,” I say softly.
“Never,” he says, all his authority ringing through in his tone of voice. “But I will leave you so limp from orgasms you can’t possibly remember to be mad at me anymore.”
“Rhys—” I start but I don’t get any more of my complaints out because he pulls out of me and sits back on his knees.
His cock glistens with our cum and is still hard, bobbing in front of him.
He grabs me by the waist, and I let out a shriek as he tosses me over his shoulder and heads into the bathroom.
Or I assume it’s the bathroom because all I can see is his round ass.
It looks so good and firm. I’m mad and turned on and I want to bite it, so I lean forward and sink my teeth into his cheek.
He swats my ass hard and says, “Careful love, if I knew you wanted to play rough, we would have. So let’s say for every time you bite my ass, I’ll fuck yours.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me,” he purrs. “I want to fuck every part of you. Unfortunately, we need an heir and there’s only one way those come about.
So until then, your cunt it is.” He thrusts two fingers inside me and just holds them there, flickering over my g-spot, and driving me insane.
I’m helpless to get away, but it’s also not enough to make me come.
I want to snarl at him to stop playing games with me but, in a sense, we’ve been playing different games with each other through our entire relationship, and those of the carnal variety are no different.
He sets me on the counter with an ordered, “Stay.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“I didn’t say you were,” he replies calmly.
He flips on the taps in the shower and watches me with his light eyes that seem to see everything I wish to hide.
Steam quickly fills the bathroom, and he checks the water temperature with his hand before scooping me up and carrying me into the glass enclosure.
“I can shower myself,” I say, telling him something he already knows. “I’m a grown woman.”
“Aye,” he says with a heated gaze aimed in my direction. “That you are.”
Rhys turns me so that my back is against his chest and holds me against his hard body as he reaches for one of the hand sprayers.
He runs the warm water all over me, up and down my arms and legs, across my belly and my breasts.
All while he moves his free hand along my curves, heating me back up from the inside out.
I gasp when the jet spray flashes across my engorged clit and I arch my body into his hand while he gently pinches my nipple.
“Rhys,” I pant when he splashes my clit again.
“You like that don’t you?” he asks as he expertly guides the water again and plumps my breast with his other hand.
“Yes.”
“Aye,” he says as he waves the sprayer wand back and forth, just barely missing where I want it “Do you want me to make you come like this?”
“Yes,” I hiss as he continues teasing me. And then suddenly, the sprayer wand is right between my legs, and he directs it to hit me exactly where I need it most.
“Oh God,” I gasp.