Me: I think he’ll be fine.
Me: Now get me that stuff so I can feed my woman
Malice: I think the term you’re looking for is queen
Chapter Twenty-Nine
BRISTOL
Iexpected the morning after a night full of sex with someone new, after so many years, would come with awkwardness, maybe some shame, worry. What I didn’t expect was how comfortable it would be. I should have known better. Rhys was right, our first time together under the stars, he made love to me. He was passionate and sweet, and it was everything I needed in that moment.
Last night? He fucked me the way a man who is obsessed with his woman fucks her. Without inhibition, without reservation, just a dark, primal, raw need. God, I can still feel him inside me now.
I rub my thighs together, feeling the ache between them that an entire night of fucking leaves behind. This must be what Kira has been bragging about for years. A door shuts somewhere close by, followed by the bed sinking behind where I’m lying on my side.
Rhys’ warm, steady hands are right there next, pulling my hair out of my face and combing his fingers through the strands.
“Good morning, my love, how do you feel?” God, his voice is so warm and smooth, like melted chocolate. I push back against his big body, seeking his warmth.
“Mmm. Better than ever. You wore me out.”
Rhys laughs then, a deep rumble that vibrates through his chest and into my back.
“Good. But now you need to nourish your body; it needs fuel, especially after last night.”
With Rhys’ guidance, I scoot up, putting my back against the headboard and coming face-to-face with what sits at the foot of the bed.
“You brought me breakfast in bed?”
Rhys smirks, running his hand over his beard. “I did. And now I’m going to do something I’ve been dying to do since the first time we had breakfast together.”
“I believe it was brunch,” I jest.
“Brunch then,” he concedes, smiling and pulling out my favorite banana muffins from Daily Rise, followed by two Sunrise Brioche. He hands me my mug first, and I know without tasting it that it’s a Morning Fog Latte.
I can so easily imagine lazy mornings with him, sipping coffee in bed with no rush to enter the outside world. A future with Rhys Hudson would be a gift.
I lift the to-go cup to my lips, the warmth rolling across my tongue, a velvety heat that’s become so familiar, comforting,and also a tiny bit electrifying. The taste that I relate to Rhys now. My eyes close for a brief moment, only to open and see Rhys’ eyes smoldering in return.
“Damn, baby. I love watching you enjoy things. Can I feed you, please?”
My heart stutters in my chest. How could I deny a request like that?
I watch as he breaks off the top of the muffin, setting it off to the side. I can’t hide the smile as I realize he knows exactly how I eat them. Rhys hasn’t just been spending time with me, he’s been studying me, learning every little mundane thing, like how I separate the top from the bottom, eating the bottom first and then the top, always picking off pieces and never biting.
He brings a small piece of the mouthwatering bread to my mouth, and with our eyes locked in on each other, I open for him, my lips closing around the food and the tip of his thumb. The groan that rumbles up his chest is audible and so fucking hot.
“Jesus, woman. Do you know how long I’ve waited to do that?”
“Feed me?”
“Yes, my love,feed you. Take care of you, dote on you, love on you. You deserve to be treated like a queen, and I plan to spend my life at your feet, worshipping you the way you deserve, if you’ll let me.”
“Where did you come from, Rhys Hudson?”
“I’ve just been here, waiting for you.”
Rhys lounges in front of me in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs. My eyes roam his body appreciatively, not believing he’s real. He looks like a Greek god, carved and chiseled to masculine perfection. His tattoos span the majority of his body—a massive skull in the center of his chest with a crown tilted off the side, a long dagger impaling it from top to bottom. It’s the same design that is on the back of his leather club vest.
