He winks at me.
It’s always been like this between us. Hot and playful. Fun and pleasure.
He positions himself at my entrance, the tip of his cock teasing my folds, rubbing against my clit in maddening circles.
My hips buck against him, desperate for relief. “Come inside,” I whisper.
He plunges into me with a single, brutal thrust.
His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he pounds into me. He makes love with a ferocity that steals my breath away.
I cry out as my walls clench around him.
“Baby,” he snarls, his voice rough with need. “Fuck, baby. So good. Always so good.”
His pace quickens, driving us closer and closer to the edge.
I cry out softly when I come, spasming around him. Rhys follows me.
We collapse together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.
Rhys presses a kiss to my forehead, his hands cradling my face with a tenderness that belies the wildness of our lovemaking.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “Always have. Always will.”
“I love you, too.”
After, we lie tangled in the dark, breathing the same air. His hand rests on my stomach, thumb tracing idle circles.
He’s quiet for a long time before he says, “Sometimes I think I’m going to fail.”
My chest tightens. “Fail what?”
He stares at the ceiling. “Being head of Cardio. The politics, the pressure, the constant grind. It’s like I’m holding my breath all the time, waiting for something to go wrong.”
His voice is raw. Right now, he’s not the arrogant surgeon, not the man with the God complex. Just Rhys. The boy who wanted to matter.
My heart clenches at his vulnerability.
“You won’t fail,” I whisper.
He turns his head toward me, eyes tired. “You really think that?”
“I know it.”
He leans over to kiss me again, soft, grateful.
For a while, we lie quietly, holding each other, feeling loved.
CHAPTER 8
Rhys
The respite of making love and finding peace in my marriage came to an end on Sunday.
I blew up.
But then Jayne never does. She just says things that make me lose my temper.
