Page 50 of Forever a Thief

“How about you give me this instead,” she purrs, squeezing.

“Fuck.”

I simply can’t tell her no. There’s not a cell in my body that can resist her. With no choice, I slam my mouth down against hers, giving her what she wants. Giving in to what we both need.

Chapter Twenty: Savannah

Our clothes are gone in a flash, and then I’m pulling Rhys down to cover me. Feeling his warm body pressing along the length of mine is a heaven I’ve never known until him. One I will fight to keep, if need be. Because I’ve decided this utterly dashing, reluctant hero is all mine.

“Savvy,” he hisses when I wrap my hand around his weeping cock. I stroke his long, thick length, marveling at how silky it feels.

“I need you inside me.” My hands slide around and grip his firm ass.

“Condom,” he rasps, all husky and striving to hang on to his control.

When he shifts back and starts to get up, I refuse to let go. “No. It’s okay. I’m on birth control.” I push my pelvis up, rubbing against him. “I want to feel you. Nothing between us.”

Our gazes lock, and a muscle flexes in his cheek. “I’ve never been bare with anyone. You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

The trust between us blossoms even more as he spreads my thighs further then slowly begins sinking inside me. Inch by throbbing inch. My nails dig into his shoulders as his cock stretches me. Nothing ever felt so right or so damn good.

We begin to move together, hot and eager, and I need him on a level that’s almost frightening. He’s made me understand that hiding away from life and trying to forget the past by consuming myself in work isn’t the answer. Life keeps going, and I need to pull my head out of the sand—and occasionally out of my book—and experience all it has to offer. Because it goes by far too fast. There’s so much more to life than work. Experiences and people I don’t want to miss or take for granted. Rhys has brought a zest for life back into my world. I’ve been missing it for too long, but not anymore.

His mouth takes mine, kissing me as his slow, heavy thrusts hit right where I need. Pleasure starts building, replacing the restless ache. They say the French are the best lovers, and I agree wholeheartedly.

Without warning, he rolls us and I wind up on top. My hands drop down to his chest, fingers splayed, and he grips my hips, helping guide me up and down his cock.

“C'est ma chérie. Take us there, Savvy,” he urges.

I begin to move faster, more frantically, chasing after my orgasm. He reaches for my breasts, cupping them, watching me with hooded green eyes as I ride him hard. A cry rips from my throat when my release hits, and my entire body jerks as I come apart on his cock.

Once again, he flips us. On my back, lost in an orgasmic haze, I grab onto him as he lifts one of my legs, hooking it on his hip, and sinks deep. We both groan at the intensity of the contact. His thrusts become fast and hard, and the moment his fingers find my clit and begin rubbing circles, I fly over the edge again. Arching up, I cry out. He follows me, stiffening, then shuddering through his release with a low roar.

He collapses on top of me, quickly rolling off so he doesn’t crush me. Lying on the pillows, trying to catch my breath, I feel him reach for my hand. I watch as he turns it and places an open-mouthed kiss on my palm.

“I don’t want any secrets between us, chérie.” He sighs heavily. “But I’m afraid if you see my true colors…” He pulls my hand against his chest, green eyes fierce. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” I promise. “Just know, when you’re ready, I’m here.”

He seems to consider my words, and I can feel the steady, strong beat of his heart against my palm. “Same goes for you. You never told me who hurt you.”

No, I didn’t. My good mood deflates a fraction.

“Hang on.” He slips away, padding into the bathroom, and I zero in on his perfect ass, watching as it flexes with every step.

Mmm. Good mood restored.

He returns with a warm, wet washcloth, and instead of handing it over to me, he carefully cleans between my thighs. It’s so intimate, and I can’t help but stiffen a little. It’s the first time a man has ever done this for me.

“I’ve never done this,” he admits in a low voice. “But since we didn’t use protection…”

After he finishes gently wiping away the traces of his release, he tosses the washcloth back into the bathroom and slides in bed again. Leaning against the pillows, he gets comfortable as I curl up under his arm.

“Who’s going first?” he asks.

“I don’t have much to tell, but it’s humiliating.”