Yes.Oh, God, yes.
Before I can respond, he rakes his teeth down the tendon in my neck.My entire body quivers.A moan rolls from my lips, his name bursting on my tongue in a song of ecstasy.I dig my nails into his skin through his black Friday Harbor police t-shirt, clutching him to me.
“Harder,” he grunts.“I want your marks embedded in my skin, princess.”
I give him what he wants, digging my fingers into his broad shoulders hard enough to leave indentions.His body is rock solid beneath mine, unyielding.He’s hard and hot, the most real thing I’ve ever touched.
“You were on the beach,” he murmurs against my neck.“I can taste the salt on your skin.”
“Yes,” I gasp.I sang to the ocean today, letting the wind carry my confession out to sea.Rhys hasn’t heard my song yet.No one but the waves has heard it.But I wrote it for him.When I sing it Friday, I’ll be singing it for him.
“And yet you still taste like sugar.”He shifts us, gently laying me out on the ottoman.It’s one of those massive square leather ones that run the length of the sofa.I feel like he’s laying me out on a bed.
He lands on his knees between my legs, staring up at me in reverence.His green eyes are so dark, so full of mystery and awe, as if I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.With him, I feel that way.He emboldens me, empowers me, and brings me to life in ways I never imagined.
One big hand grips my hip, holding me steady beneath him.The other slides up my leg, starting at my calf.His palm is rough against my bare skin, but it feels like silk too.My skin turns to gooseflesh, reacting to his touch.He notices.His eyes lock on my leg, watching in rapt fascination as he trails his hand higher and the gooseflesh climbs with him.
He stops when he reaches the leg of my shorts.His fingers skim just below the hem, teasing at my inner thigh.He teases at the waistband too, running his thumb back and forth, back and forth.He never goes any higher than my thigh or any lower than my waistband, but somehow manages to make me crazy anyway.
My clit aches and pulses, pleading for attention.Pleading for him.
“Rhys,” I moan.
He leans forward and kisses me again.The tip of his tongue dances with mine…teasing there too.He gives me just a little taste.Just enough to make me ache for more.I crave this man with an intensity that’s overwhelming.
I’m an addict.Every moment with him makes me need more.Every touch increases my tolerance and requires even more to sustain me.Soon, I’ll be completely lost to him.I already feel it happening.And like an addict, I don’t care.I just want him.More, more, more.Until he runs through my veins, and I exist on him alone.
Is it the same for him?Does he feel me in the same way?
Is it selfish that I hope he does?
“Please,” I moan, pleading for more.
He bites my bottom lip, dragging it between his teeth in a delicious glide.
The sting fades to pleasure as his body comes down over mine.He’s so damn big.God, he’s a giant.A Titan.He completely engulfs me as the boards in the ottoman groan as if to protest our combined weight.
He breaks our kiss, his lips trailing down my throat.His stubble scrapes my skin as he bites and kisses, driving me higher and higher.My hands slip from his shoulders, exploring down his back.I scratch, dragging my nails down the thick bands of muscle.
He growls his pleasure, crawling over me.His erection grinds against my center.His mouth lands against my right breast.
“Rhys!”I cry out, stunned when he bites me through my shirt.Another sharp pulse goes straight to my clit.I’ve never felt that before.Ever.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He rears back suddenly, reaching for my shirt.Faster than I can process, it’s in a heap on the floor.His eyes blaze with intensity as he stares down at me.No one looks at me like he does.No one sees me like he does.Seeing myself in his eyes is beautiful.
“You’re going to ruin me,” he growls.
“I want to ruin you.”I swallow hard, staring up at him.“I want to make you crazy, Rhys.”
He growls again, yanking the cups of my bra down.Cool air kisses my nipples and then he’s there, pushing them together, burying his face in them.He groans like a man on the brink.One dying and finding salvation in the same breath.
“You already are,” he says.
I don’t get a chance to respond.He pulls one nipple into his mouth, covering the other with his palm.I cry out in bliss, raking my nails down his back, clutching him to me…vibrating to a frequency I’ve never heard.Powerful sensations buffet my body, each one shooting straight to my core.
