He buries his face deeper, working his tongue into my opening.I sob his name as he fucks me with it, thrusting it as deep as he can get it.His filthy sounds fill the living room in a hedonistic, carnal song of gluttony.Mine sings in harmony.
I break wide open for him, convulsing as my orgasm splits me asunder.It flings me around like a buoy in the water just outside the windows, leaving me limp and gasping for breath.He pulls back covered in my juices.They practically drip down his chest.
He doesn’t bother taking his pants off.I don’t think he can.He rips through the button and zipper in record time, breathing like he just ran a race.His eyes never leave my body.Mine never leave him.Not even as aftershocks wrack my body.
I squeeze my legs together when he pulls his cock out.He’s so big.My God.He’s going to split me in two.Pre-cum drips from the tip as he wraps a hand around his shaft and squeezes, working himself roughly.Everything about him is rough.Big.Mean.And yet he treats me like I’m precious.No one speaks to me the way he does, says the things he says to me, or looks at me the way he does, as if he finds me worthy of the highest regard.As if I alone touch the heart of him and soften his sharp edges.
“Are you on birth control?”he asks.
I shake my head, a seed of doubt sprouting in my stomach.If he stops now, it’ll break me.
“Good,” he grunts, satisfaction in his eyes.They run over me, hot and wild.“I don’t have condoms, songbird.Haven’t been with a woman in years so I haven’t needed them.”He licks his lips, stepping closer.“Wouldn’t wear one with you even if I had one.”
My heart leaps into my throat, that little seed of doubt dying as quickly as it bloomed.
He plants one knee on the ottoman between my thighs and then scoops me up, scooting me backward.“I should take you to my bed for this, but fuck if I can wait that long,” he mutters, his mouth against my ear.“I need in you now, songbird.”
“Then get in me, Rhys,” I plead, wrapping my arms around his neck.I hook one leg around his hip, locking my body to his.He could take me on the floor, and I wouldn’t complain.When I remember this moment, I’m not going to be disappointed about where it happened.All I care about is that it’s him.It’s us.
“Lay back.”
I reluctantly release my hold on him, falling back against the ottoman.He yanks my ass up into his lap, sliding one hand around my hip.His erection falls against my center, hot and hard.God, he’s so damn hard.His other hand slides up my abdomen, between my breasts, and then around my throat.He squeezes gently, heat in his eyes as he tilts my head forward.
“Watch,” he orders.“I want you to see the minute I take what’s mine, princess.”
“Rhys,” I moan.
“I want you to see what I do to you.”
I groan his name as he releases my throat and grabs his shaft.He toys with me, running it through my folds, bouncing it against my clit.He smacks it against my pussy, closes my lips around it, and jerks himself off with them, grunting curses.It’s filthy and fascinating and I can’t look away.This is a side of Rhys I’ve never seen.He’s pure sex and sexy as hell.
By the time he lines up at my entrance, I’m writhing beneath him.He’s on the edge of breaking but trying to rein it in for my sake.I see it written all over his face.But I don’t want gentle Rhys.I don’t want him holding back, afraid he’s going to hurt me.I want him as wild as he makes me.I want him raw and untamed.I want everything he has.
“Take what’s yours, Rhys,” I whisper.
“Raven,” he growls.
“I saved it for you.All this time, I’ve been holding onto it for you.”
He roars my name…and breaks.He thrusts forward, pushing into me.I feel a brief pinch as my hymen stretches and then tears around him, but the pain is over before it even truly begins, unable to stand in the face of so much pleasure.It crashes down on me from all sides as he thrusts in, not stopping until he’s balls deep and I’m stretched to capacity around him.Then and only then does he pause.
His head kicks back, another loud roar ripping from his lips.
I sob his name in ecstasy.He feels so good.So damn good.
And then he starts moving.He doesn’t take it slow.He moves like a storm, powerful, fierce.The ottoman rocks beneath us as he pounds into me, fucking me hard and deep.I shout his name, sobbing it into the room.
He falls forward, catching himself on his forearms.His mouth lands against mine, his kiss tinged with so much sweetness it brings tears to my eyes.This man… Lord, I think this man is going to destroy me.And I think I’m going to let him.
“Three years,” he whispers against my lips.“Every goddamn minute for three years, you’ve belonged to me.”
I sob my agreement, clawing down his back.I’m not gentle about it.He roars in pain and pleasure, yanking my leg up over his hip.The change in angle allows him to slide deeper.He fucks me harder, as if he’s trying to fuck his way into my very soul.I take everything he gives me, moving with him, demanding more.More, more, more.
It’ll never be enough.I could overdose on him and still want more, still need more.God help us both, but this isn’t the kind of obsession that fades or dies or diminishes.It’ll keep growing until it consumes us both or destroys us both.Heaven or hell.Those are the only ways out of this one.
Please be heaven,I pray.Please.
Rhys is all over me as he fucks me, kissing me, consuming me.He sets me ablaze again and again.I go up like kindling beneath him, setting him to burn with me.Sweat rolls in rivulets down his abdomen and dampens his hair.He’s a work of art above me, one made just for me.
