Olivia
The orgasm is worthit.
That’s the only thought that pops into my head as my release slams into my body. My pussy pulses hard around Rhys’s fingers as he continues to fingerfuck me, extending my pleasure until I’m a whining, sobbing mess in his arms. The hand on my throat drops to wrap around my middle, holding me up since my knees have turned to jelly.
I’m still floating on a cloud of euphoria, my mind blissfully blank as Rhys removes his fingers from my pussy. The movement causes another jolt of painful pleasure that has me sucking in a sharp breath and flinching.
“Shh, you’re okay, princess. You did so well for me,” he says in a tone I’ve never heard before. It’s so soft and warm, nothing like the stern or dry toneshe usually uses.
I want to snuggle into him and purr while he uses that voice again. Preferably while naked so I can feel his skin against mine.
His chest vibrates against my back as he laughs. “We can do that later, princess. It might get a little nippy out here with no clothes on.”
“I said that out loud?” I mumble, blinking blearily at the brightness of the room.
“You did,” he says as he adjusts his hold on me, keeping me supported as he rights my underwear and zips up my jeans.
Good thing, too, because my legs are useless as my body continues to tremble from the aftershocks of my orgasm. My hands are still locked behind his head and my arms are tingling and cramping from a lack of blood flow. Seeming to understand this, Rhys reaches behind his head and unlaces my hands. They drop limply to my side.
“Come here.” He picks me up and moves us over to a chair in the corner of the room. He sits, the chair creaking slightly as he adjusts me until I’m draped across his lap. “How are you feeling?” he murmurs as he takes one of my hands and massages my palm.
The action reduces the painful cramping and I sigh, melting into him. He's so comfortable, something I never would have thought he was capable of until now. “Like a limp, satisfied noodle.”
He chuckles. “Good to know that my ugly mug didn’t put you off.”
“What?” My eyes dart upward in shock. “You’re not ugly, Rhys.”
Something flickers in his amber eyes as averts his gaze and switches my hands to massage the other. “You’re the first to think that.” The muscle in his jaw flutters.
I stare at him. I don’t know how anyone could look at this man—savage and dangerous as he may appear—and think of him as anything other than handsome. Sure, there’s a harshness and brutality to his beauty, one that’s only exacerbated by the scars running along the side of his face and neck before disappearing into his shirt. Butnothingabout him is ugly.
Without thinking, I reach up and trace the thick lines of scar tissue on his neck. It’s the first time I’ve truly touched him, and he tenses, the massage he was giving my palm stuttering to a stop.
“Ollie…” His voice is thick.
I don’t say a thing. Just like he did with me, I continue to trace the scars with feather-light caresses until, little by little, he relaxes and even leans into my touch. Like me, I know he won’t accept pretty words and platitudes. I have toshowhim that nothing about him repulses me.
I lean forward and press delicate kisses along his scars, following the same path my fingers took. His breath hitches and his eyes widen a fraction as he watches me warily until I finish my path by pressing a sweet kiss against his lips.
His hand comes up to cup the side of my face as I pull away, his gaze flicking between my eyes like he’s searching for something. I don’t know what he finds, but it must be good because he blows out a breath and relaxes back against the chair.
“We should talk,” he says, shattering the sweet moment and bringing with it the harsh bite of reality.
I blink and pull away from him, dread swirling in my stomach. Is this where he tells me that whatever happened here can never happen again? That it was a mistake?
He frowns at my expression. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I meant we should talk about what we want to happen next with this relationship.” He hesitates and rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it. “I know I’d like it to grow into something more, something beyond friendship, but is that what you want?” He twitches beneath me and clenches his jaw as if he’s uncomfortable.
I’m surprised by how candid he’s being. He’s laid his cards on the table, completely putting the ball in my court. I could end this budding relationship here and now. Although I imagine it’d be like a knife to the heart for him. Just the idea of hurting him like that has my chest tightening and nausea swirling in my stomach.
“I want that, too,” I say hastily, realising I’ve been silent too long. He’s so tense he’s like a stone statue beneath me. “Whatever this is between us, I want more of it.”
He swallows hard and nods. “Good. We should probably talk more about limits and kinks before we do anything sexual again. And include Alex and Theo in the discussion—not just a kink one—but one about boundaries and expectations within the relationship. Just to make sure everyone is on the same page and no one misunderstands and gets hurt… Fuck, maybe we should have had a discussion about this before I finger-fucked you.”
I stare at him, open-mouthed. The normally stoic and grumpy ex-SAS officer is grabbing his hair and pulling on it as he talks frantically. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Rhys ramble before or look this nervous. I didn’t even know he was capable of it.
It’s endearing to know that he cares so much.
Unfortunately, before I can say anything to reassure him, Ketchup bursts into the room from the firing range, squawking and barking in panic. She flutters at me and then at Rhys’s face before flying to perch on the table and squawks again.
