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How they’d darkened with corrupt intent when I’d intentionally rubbed up against him.
His voice had sounded so tortured when he’d grabbed me, the tone unlike anything I’d ever heard from him. If I’d stayed there, I have no doubt that he’d have fucked me.
It’d have been brutal and angry and messy and I’d have loved every minute of it.
My hand makes its way down my stomach, under the band of my shorts and underwear, and over my swollen pussy.
I’m so wet and dripping with need, I can feel it trickle down between my ass cheeks.
My touch barely ghosts over my clit and I almost jump out of my skin. I’m so aroused and sensitive, it won’t take much to send me over the edge.
I run my fingers down my center until they reach my entrance. Sliding one in, I gasp at how my tight walls grip my finger, refusing to let it go.
My palm grinds against my clit as I start pumping my finger in and out. I try thinking about Carter, but I can’t.
I can’t.
I want to cry in frustration.
My thoughts keep coming back to Rhys. To his evilly charming smile, his seductive voice, his strong hands.
I bring my other hand to rub my clit. I’m anything but gentle as I touch myself, taking my frustration out on my body.
I think about the unhinged look in his eye when he touches me. There’s a promise of retribution in them that has my toes curling in pleasure as I crest the wave.
I’m slamming my finger into my pussy now, searching desperately for the orgasm that feels just out of reach.
And then, almost as if he’s in the room, I imagine Rhys’ voice whispering “hello, love” in my ear and the wave crashes, sudden and powerful.
My legs shake as I ride the aftershocks, my body electrified.
With lust out of the way, shame is quick to hit me as I pull my finger out of my pants. I can’t believe I just did that.
I’m mortified that I couldn’t control myself.
I dig around for my phone under the pillows where I threw it. I need to talk to Carter.
I need to apologize.
I tap the screen and see a missed text.
Rhys:Next time you come it’ll be on my tongue.
I look around, frantic, but of course he’s not here.
There’s no way he can know this.
Can he?
I delete the entire thread as my shaking fingers tap Carter’s name and the line starts to ring.
“Hey, babe.”
There’s immediate relief when he picks up knowing that we won’t have to play phone tag for the next couple of days.
“Hey,” I answer, “How are you?”
“Good. Chilling at Tony’s house right now. You?”
