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He was holding back. I could feel him holding back.
“Rhys,” I whimpered, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Please—I want you—” I canted my hips against his, grinding and writhing, silently begging him to be rough.
“Damn, Whitney,” he rasped through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes, meeting me thrust for thrust until we were both on the edge of losing control.
Tension coiled low in my belly. I bit down on his shoulder, crying out as the pressure snapped and flooded my body. Rhys cried out my name, his fingers leaving marks on my skin as he pulled out abruptly and spilled himself on my stomach.
I couldn’t catch my breath. Everything felt hazy and heavy. I was one with the couch cushions, barely noticing he’d gotten up until he returned and gently cleaned me, then took me in his arms, flipping us over so we were spooning on the couch.
I rested my cheek against his chest as he pulled a blanket over us, promptly falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat slowing.
I WOKE WITH A START, blinking into frozen daylight streaming through the window overlooking the couch. I peeked over Rhys’s arm at the fireplace, where the fire had burned to ash.
He shifted, skin sliding against my own. We were still naked, wrapped in each other’s arms and a thin blanket for warmth, but it had been enough, and the best sleep of my life.
I lifted my head to look down at the trail of clothing leading to the couch and felt a stunning reality weigh me back down.
Rhys woke up at my movements, jerking like he’d forgotten I was there.
But his arm came around my waist, his palm resting on my belly, fingers splayed.
I knew with everything I was and everything I would be that whatever just happened wasn’t common. Whatever this was between us wasn’t your everyday lust.
I sank back against him, not ready to face reality. Not yet.
“Good morning,” I whispered.
“Good morning,” he replied, his voice sleepy and low.
We were silent for a moment, each of us going through the motions, I was sure.
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he said suddenly, his tone more clear.
I curled into him. “I don’t think it can be a one-time thing after... that.”
He chuckled, but there was a hint of sadness there. I thought we both felt the weight of what we’d just done.
“No one can know,” I whispered.
“I won’t let that happen, I promise you.” He rolled over on top of me, nose to nose. “I’m serious, Whitney, I want to see you again after this. And not just in class.”
“How?” I asked in a squeaky voice.
“I’ll find a way.”
He kissed me, and the kiss awoke that burning desire I had for him in an instant. I felt his desire pressed against my thigh, and the delicious soreness between my legs began to throb and ache anew.
“We’re alone right now,” I whispered against his lips.
He nipped my lower lip, and this time he didn’t have to nudge my legs apart. I wrapped them around his waist, and he filled me with a single thrust.
I let my mind go blissfully blank.
Whatever happened next didn’t matter. Not yet.
Chapter 20
Rhys
