Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(79)

“Tabby, fuck.” His fingers grip my damp hair, forcing my head back as he drags his mouth over the length of my throat.

I swivel my hips again, rubbing myself on him, getting off on the feel, and the desperate snarl he lets out against my neck.

“You’re fucking soaked.” His free hand cups the curve of my ass, grinding me into him again as his leg stays firm. “Just like I said you would be.”

I pant out a breath, remembering when he’d told me he bet I was soaked. I couldn’t even look him in the eye and lie about it, so I’d said nothing.

Today, I come clean, tired of lying about this thing between us. “I told you,” I whisper. “I need you.”

He kisses me again, pouring himself into me, and I give it back. My hand slides down over a heavily roped torso to a blissfully naked abdomen. This time, when I wrap my palm around his cock, there’s no denim in my way and no taunt on my lips.

Just smooth, hot skin. His steely length and a breathless sigh. I revel in the feel, the weight, the rough gasp he lets out when I twist my hand over the head.

“Tabby.”

Fuck, I love the sound of my name on his lips. Full of hunger and desperation, like he’s been waiting for me to catch up and stop pushing him away. He’s wanted me and let me loathe him anyway.

How fucking selfless. How fucking stupid.

A flash of frustration burns bright as I think about it. All the time and energy I wasted being mad at him when everything was beyond my control from the start.

I grip him harder, pumping as I pull away to glare at him in the shadowy light. “Rhys, never hide shit from me again. No secrets. I hate it.”

I don’t know what I even mean by that. It sounds permanent, and I have no idea where we stand. All I know is that I want him. God, I want him so badly. And now there’s nothing stopping me from having him.

He stares back at me, giving one sure dip of his chin as his thumb moves in his signature slow, gentle circles. His voice is thick when he responds with, “I’m sorry.”

I release his dick and plant my palms on his shoulders as I crawl over his body and straddle him. “I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus, baby,” he mutters, right as his broad palms slip over my ass and up around my waist. He presses me down and glides me back, my clit rasping over the length of his cock, which lies flat on his stomach.

Baby.

My head tips back as I revel in all the sensations of him. The term of endearment. So much has hurt lately, but everything with Rhys feels warm and safe and delicious.

Everything with Rhys feels so right.

“Again.” The word is a breathless plea, and he doesn’t hesitate. His hands maneuver me, and my hips move of their own accord, following his lead as my pussy spreads and slips down his length. That final little twist hits my clit and sends electric shocks through my entire body.

“Fuck,” I whisper when one of his hands roams up my stomach to cup my breast. He groans, and a look of satisfaction transforms his face as he plucks at the nipple before moving to the other.

My skin sizzles as he explores. Every movement feels desperate, but there’s nothing rushed or fumbled about the way Rhys handles me. He savors me. Every inch, every second. His eyes trace the curves of my body as though he’s memorizing each angle.

I fucking love the way he looks at me.

My hand wraps around his forearm, and I follow his every motion, wanting to be part of whatever is running through his head. He moves from my breasts up over my collarbones to my neck.

His thumb brushes against my lips, and our eyes lock as he presses it into my mouth. I moan and hold his gaze as I slide myself up the length of his cock once more, making a mess all over him. At the top of the motion, his thick, blunt head catches at my entrance, and I suck harder on his thumb.

God, he’s big. Just the anticipation of taking him inside of me is a thrill.

“What are you gonna do, Tabby?” He slides his thumb between my lips and pushes back in. “You think you can take it?”

That smug fucking twist to his lips that I know all too well pushes me over the edge. I match his expression, eyes igniting as I reach down between us to fist his dick.

And then I drop my hips and take him in one swift motion, gasping for air as his thumb pulls away and my body works to adjust to his width. My thighs shake, and my back bows.

“Tabby. Tabby. Fuck.” His hands slip to my waist and grip me in place.

My gaze trails over his face. Lips parted, dark lashes dropped low.

He’s fucking beautiful. And infuriating. And mine.

My core pulses around his hardness, and I smirk as I bend over his body, fingers trailing over his. I press a kiss to his sternum, his heady scent swirling around me.

“Was that a challenge?” I murmur against his golden skin as I slowly drag my hips up and glide them back down again. Pleasure radiates through every limb, a delicious ache unfurling behind each joint. I’m smiling when I move again, licking my way up his neck.

“Because I love a challenge.” My teeth snap at his ear, hips riding him as his fingers grip me harder. Hard enough to leave marks. God, I hope he leaves marks.

Suddenly, I’m feral for him.

I slam down on him harder and hiss at the slight sting.

“Jesus,” he grits out as he sits up, one hand pushing us into a new position where I’m still straddling him, but upright. Somehow, even more intimate, because now I’m not on top and in control. We’re face-to-face with nothing between us.