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Rhys cupped my face and smiled, his heart in his eyes. “That’s a great idea, Matty. You’re gonna make your clients so happy. Let me know if I can help, okay?” His thumbs stroked my cheekbones.
I loved this about Rhys. He was such a problem-solver and so capable. But when it came to things that were my purview, he never intruded.
“I have something else you can help with.” I pulled Rhys’s hand between my legs and watched his eyes flash and his lush lips part.
“Mmm, and what can I do for you, love?”
My heart pounded as waves of desire and waves of shame washed through me.
“I want . . . I want to feel like I belong to you. So I can remember.”
When you’re gone. Once you’ve left me again.
I swallowed hard and Rhys groaned. It got him hard so fast when I said stuff like that. For all that Rhys was open about how much he liked to feel like I belonged to him, too, I knew there was more. The way he reacted sometimes to little things—when I forgot my wallet and turned to him to pay, when I brought him takeout in the studio on his break, when I asked his opinion on how something looked, or I told him that something had made me think of him. When he called me his husband.
Intimacy. Intimacy turned him on like nothing else.
I tipped his chin down and looked into his eyes. “I want you to fucking own me, Rhys.”
He was on me in a second, eyes wild and cheeks flushed and mouth on mine. We’d slept naked but after a minute of furious kissing, he stripped even the sheet off me and threw it to the floor, leaving me flat on my back with him straddling me, one hand flat on my chest.
“Stay there,” he rasped. My breath came fast as he looked at me. “You’re so beautiful, Matt.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Look at me.” I opened them.
Rhys seemed huge, looming over me, his powerful arms and broad chest, muscled shoulders and thick thighs. His cock stood up, hard and ruddy. I noticed for the hundredth time the way his stomach and chest were gilded with hair one shade darker than his stubble, which was one shade darker than the blond hair on his head. His very body made sense.
“Sweet Matt,” Rhys purred. He flipped me over. “Do you know how you look at me when I touch you?” With my face buried in the sheets, I shook my head. “You look so surprised at first. Like you forget that you like it. But then you melt. When I touch you—” He ran his hand down my spine and over my ass, and I felt myself relax. “When I taste you.” He kissed the path he’d just touched.
Then he was spreading my legs, and I felt the hot slickness of his tongue at my opening. It sent little shivers through me, and I pressed closer to him.
“Mm, you want more?”
I whined and Rhys’s velvet tongue speared me open. He licked at me until I was wet and writhing against the bed.
“Fuck, I wanna come in here,” he said against my hole and a bolt of lust shot through me.
“Do it,” I groaned. Rhys fumbled for the lube and then his fingers were sliding inside me, slick and rough. After a minute, though, I pushed his hand away. “Now,” I said. “Just fuck me. I’m yours.”
Rhys’s moan rumbled against my back. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re mine, and I can fuck you any way I want.”
I nodded, gasped Yes, and tilted my hips up in encouragement. Rhys swatted me once, then grabbed my hips and slid inside in one powerful stroke. I tensed up everywhere, groaning around the intrusion.
“Okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You want me to own this ass, baby?”
“Yes, fuck—hard, okay?”
Rhys groaned. He kissed my ear, then my neck, then he sank his teeth in and sucked.
“Fuck!” His bite sent shocks of need through me, and I reached back for him.
Then Rhys started to fuck me. Hard. I couldn’t brace myself against it, and I kept sliding across the bed. I struggled to stay still, but he was too strong. We both growled in frustration, and Rhys planted his forearms on the bed and clasped his hands, like a cage around my shoulders on the bed. Now when he drove into me, he kept us still, and I let the feeling of it slam through me. My raging erection hit my stomach and the bed with every thrust, swollen and leaking, but I didn’t want to touch it. I wanted Rhys to make me come.
I tilted my hips so every thrust was stretch and friction and burn and then that gorgeous zing of fuck yes as he hit my prostate. I was hard and tight and liquid and loose all at once, and all I wanted was whatever Rhys gave me.
