AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Rhys,” I moan.
“I want you to see what I do to you.”
I groan his name as he releases my throat and grabs his shaft. He toys with me, running it through my folds, bouncing it against my clit. He smacks it against my pussy, closes my lips around it, and jerks himself off with them, grunting curses. It’s filthy and fascinating and I can’t look away. This is a side of Rhys I’ve never seen. He’s pure sex and sexy as hell.
By the time he lines up at my entrance, I’m writhing beneath him. He’s on the edge of breaking but trying to rein it in for my sake. I see it written all over his face. But I don’t want gentle Rhys. I don’t want him holding back, afraid he’s going to hurt me. I want him as wild as he makes me. I want him raw and untamed. I want everything he has.
“Take what’s yours, Rhys,” I whisper.
“Raven,” he growls.
“I saved it for you. All this time, I’ve been holding onto it for you.”
He roars my name…and breaks. He thrusts forward, pushing into me. I feel a brief pinch as my hymen stretches and then tears around him, but the pain is over before it even truly begins, unable to stand in the face of so much pleasure. It crashes down on me from all sides as he thrusts in, not stopping until he’s balls deep and I’m stretched to capacity around him. Then and only then does he pause.
His head kicks back, another loud roar ripping from his lips.
I sob his name in ecstasy. He feels so good. So damn good.
And then he starts moving. He doesn’t take it slow. He moves like a storm, powerful, fierce. The ottoman rocks beneath us as he pounds into me, fucking me hard and deep. I shout his name, sobbing it into the room.
He falls forward, catching himself on his forearms. His mouth lands against mine, his kiss tinged with so much sweetness it brings tears to my eyes. This man… Lord, I think this man is going to destroy me. And I think I’m going to let him.
“Three years,” he whispers against my lips. “Every goddamn minute for three years, you’ve belonged to me.”
I sob my agreement, clawing down his back. I’m not gentle about it. He roars in pain and pleasure, yanking my leg up over his hip. The change in angle allows him to slide deeper. He fucks me harder, as if he’s trying to fuck his way into my very soul. I take everything he gives me, moving with him, demanding more. More, more, more.
It’ll never be enough. I could overdose on him and still want more, still need more. God help us both, but this isn’t the kind of obsession that fades or dies or diminishes. It’ll keep growing until it consumes us both or destroys us both. Heaven or hell. Those are the only ways out of this one.
Please be heaven,I pray. Please.
Rhys is all over me as he fucks me, kissing me, consuming me. He sets me ablaze again and again. I go up like kindling beneath him, setting him to burn with me. Sweat rolls in rivulets down his abdomen and dampens his hair. He’s a work of art above me, one made just for me.
“Rhys!” I cry, nearly catapulting off the ottoman when he slips his hand between us to play with my clit. My entire body clenches, pleasure washing over me in waves.
“Stop fighting it, songbird.”
I push him away and pull him closer at the same time, trying to deny the truth. I am fighting it. I don’t want this to end.
“Stop fighting it, goddammit,” he growls, grinding his thumb against my clit. “Stop fighting me and give me what I want.”
I sob his name…and give in. My muscles clamp down on him, fluttering as the orgasm takes me. I shout his name, wailing it into the room. The orgasm hits me like a wall. I forget to breathe, forget my own name as it rips me apart, vicious in its intensity.
Rhys roars my name and goes wild above me. He slams into me without rhythm. Once. Twice. A third time. And then he stills. A long, low groan ripples through the room as he shudders, and then he’s coming too. He spills into me in hot splashes, filling me full of him.
“This is nice,” I whisper, cuddling up against his chest in the whirlpool bathtub an hour later. He carried me in here as soon as he could move, insisting I soak. He said it’d help. I think he’s worried he was too rough with me. He wasn’t. I don’t regret a second of what we did.
“Yeah?” he asks, trailing his fingers down my back.
“Mmhmm. No one has ever bathed me before.”
“I certainly fucking hope not.”
I laugh quietly. I love this jealous, possessive side of Rhys. Maybe I shouldn’t encourage it, but I love knowing that he doesn’t want to share me. I love knowing that he hates the thought of me with anyone else. Thinking about him with other women used to drive me crazy.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything,” he says immediately.
