I wince. “A rebound has never been a bigger mistake.”
Thunderclouds move through his expression.
My vagina tingles.
More creators flow past him, checking out the laundry room.
I bite my lip.
Half the conference is here.
And big, broody, protective, possessive Rhys?
He blinks, and his eyes go dark.
“I need to get back to work,” I say, my voice barely working.
He steps sideways.
I slip past him.
He follows me down the hall to the back door.
Around the corner to the garden shed.
Inside, where he locks the door.
I climb him and press my mouth to his as he presses my back against the wall, working his hands between us until his fingers are slipping under my pants and teasing my clit.
“Theonlydick you get to think about ismine,” he growls.
“It’s a good dick.”
“You’re wet.”
“For you.”
“Better fucking be for me and no one else.”
He presses my clit hard while thrusting his fingers into me, and I bite his shoulder to keep from screaming as the fastest orgasm of my life overtakes me.
I’m still coming when he pulls his fingers out, sets me on the ground, and bends me over the seat of a riding lawnmower. “I’m taking your pants off,” he tells me.
“Yes,” I gasp through the tingles still spreading through my body.
“And I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight.”
“Please,” I say on a puff of air.
He strips my pants to my knees, then strokes a rough hand over one of my butt cheeks.
I hear foil tearing, then Rhys grunting, and then his cock pokes between my thighs. “Why is it never enough?” he says as he thrusts into me.
I stifle a moan and tilt my hips to take him deeper. “Good—this.”
“You like this?” He pumps harder, the angle hitting me in all the right spots.
“Feels—magic.”
