Her fingers tangle in my hair, needy, tasting me in return. Undoing every part of me until all that’s left is the part I never knew existed. The part that won’t let me let her go.
Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me frantically against her. And everything—the past, the pain, the regret—melts away in her touch.
Her fingers go to my shirt buttons. Desire punches through me, sudden and brutal. I feel her everywhere. In the brush of her fingers over my chest. In the passion of her kiss.
My flannel falls to the ground. Her hands palm my chest and arm, fingertips sliding over the coordinates like they’re something sacred.
That’s when I know she’s ruined me for anyone else. Because she understands me in a way no one else ever will. And still, she’s here.
“You sure about this?” I ask, voice breathless as her fingers find the fly of my jeans.
“I’m not sure about anything anymore.” Her bottom lip trembles, and I start to step back, but her eyes stop me. “That’s why I need you. Need this.”
I can already feel pieces breaking off me. The kind I can’t get back if she ever chooses to go. I can’t say this to her. Burden her with my shit.
But this is the most honest thing left in me. This I don’t come back from.
Chapter
Twenty-One
RHYS
“You okay?” I breathe.
“Yes,” she gasps, nostrils flaring, pupils blown wide.
The world narrows to the sound of our breathing. The tremor of her fingers at my waist. My hands slide beneath the hem of her burgundy shirt, finding warm skin and soft curves that nearly undo me.
She lifts her arms. I tug the shirt free. My mouth finds her through the thin lace of her bra, and her breath stutters softly against me.
My hands shake slightly at the clasp because somewhere along the way this stopped feeling like sex and started feeling like trust.
Still not sure what the hell I’m doing. But I’m completely hers.
My tongue circles her, tasting the salt of her flesh, and her inhale shakes. I lap and tease her, suck and bite, pulling back just enough to make her gasp.
Then, I’m on the other side, hands working, sliding over soft flesh, down to the spot where I know she needs me. Her handsare in my hair, on my back and shoulders, fingernails sliding softly over my flesh. Goosebumps rise along my skin, blood pumping, mind foggy.
I push her jeans down just enough to touch her, and the first stroke through her warmth nearly wrecks me. She opens for me immediately, breath catching against my mouth.
My body strains, hard as granite. Wanting her feels less like desire and more like starvation.
I stop for half a second, forehead against hers, trying to hold on to the last shreds of control I have left.
“You sure?” I ask again, rougher this time.
Her eyes lock onto mine. “Yes.”
I find her lips again, filling her, setting a rhythm she can’t ignore.
“I’m clean,” I grunt against her mouth, feeling her grip my finger when I slide inside. All heat and velvet and so damn wet I can barely think.
My thumb slides through her slickness, circling her clit. She moans into my mouth, hips bucking. Her walls tremble, sucking me deeper. She’s ready to come. That slams into my chest hard.
“Yes, Rhys.” My name on her lips is fire. The kind that gets into my veins and won’t leave. “I’m clean and on birth control.”
I swallow too loud, pulling back slightly. My eyes meet hers, dark and dangerous. “You want me wrapped or raw?”
