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Her back arched again, her skin on fire as Mars thrust slowly inside her.
“So fucking perfect.” The words came from him in a groan as he pulled out. Then he thrust in again, all the way to the hilt.
His plunges steadily became faster, and Rhiannon gritted her teeth as she clung to him. Her nails dug into his arms, her body shuddering as he angled his hips upward.
“You’re so fucking perfect.” He said the words over and over, still thrusting into her.
The forest was quiet aside from the sound of their sex. The air was cool against Rhiannon’s hot skin, and she smelled the fragrance of juniper and cypress lingering in the air.
Her climax, when it came, was violent. Mars had thought to up the ante, leaning down to take one of her nipples in his mouth.
Rhiannon’s body trembled, her thighs spasming, warmth burning in her core. Her pussy spasmed, too, and she bucked her hips on Mars's cock.
The movement of her hips rolling against his cock set him off. Mars grunted, fucking her faster.
Her climax was subsiding when Mars pulled out, exploding on her stomach, his sticky come beautiful against her tan skin.
“So fucking perfect,” Mars said again, lifting her into his arms.
FIFTEEN
MARS
Mars and Rhi had been spending a lot of time together, which didn’t bother Mars in the slightest. But not all of their time was spent enhancing their physical relationship or consisted of courting. They also spent a lot of time talking about the shelter and Rhi’s passion for the project.
Mars and his company had purchased the property, but the location itself wasn’t ready to open up yet. The pair decided they would look at the bare bones of the building and speak to the contractor about what would be the more enduring and practical design for it.
Owning a homeless shelter was entirely new territory for Mars. His father had spent very little of his extra time paying attention to charities, and when he did, it was always around the holidays and for optic’s sake. It was the opposite of sincere; it was all performative.
Which was why Mars followed the same procedures. When Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas rolled around, he wrote a few checks to organizations his advisors told him to donate to. He never visited them unless he had a good photo-op which usually meant him standing outside the building.
He had never personally invested anything into the nonprofits or charities. He was certainly born with a silver spoon in his mouth, often unaware of the privilege afforded to someone who could simply sign away money without any knowledge of whether or not it would help.
Rhi changed all that for him. There was a fire in her eyes, and likely in her belly, when she spoke about the other organizations she’d volunteered at. It was clear that her affection for the downtrodden was sincere, which made Mars fall for her even harder.
So on a rainy, strangely warm spring morning, they traveled to the property where the shelter was earmarked to be built. Rhi wore a relaxed pair of slacks and a gray T-shirt, dressing it up with a dark gray blazer. Her hair was immaculate as usual, held in a stern ponytail that pulled all the stray whisps off her forehead.
She stared out the window the entire time they drove in. The city was cast in a chrome melancholy from the hazy downpour.
“Have you ever been to a shelter before?” she inquired, turning from the window.
Mars felt himself swallow, feeling self-conscious for the first time in their relationship.
“I haven’t, no,” he said, steadying his hands on the steering wheel. “I’m sure that’s not something that surprises you.”
There was a beat of silence, and Mars felt a little gut punched. He didn’t want to disappoint her or, worse, have her think of him as some rich, oblivious asshole. However, her expression remained the same in his peripheral vision as he pulled into the lot … indifferent and contemplative.
“I’ve been a part of a lot of the property buildings, especially at this stage,” Rhi said. “So forgive me if I dive into some construction jargon too fast for you.”
She gave him a wink which was reassuring. Some of his anxiety evaporated as they emerged into the spittle of rain, with Rhi holding an umbrella over them as they jogged to the entrance.
They met up with the lead architect, who was ready to show them around the property and make any adjustments as Rhi saw fit. She had asked Mars to wear something casual, but not too casual that it was mocking. She also instructed him not to drive in one of his flashy sports cars. There was a tasteless crudeness to it when showing up at a place meant to house people who had to live with next to nothing.
So he did as she asked of him, keenly respecting her assertiveness and professionalism. He took a step back during their tour of the property, watching her with blooming admiration and fondness as she grabbed hold of the reins.
It was strange for him to not be in charge but also freeing at the same time. He enjoyed watching Rhi work; her knowledge of construction was impressive.
“It definitely needs some work before we’re set to open in a few months,” Rhi said once they’d stopped to look over design sheets.
