Page 44 of Unforgivable

The room was muggy with the scent of us, of Rhys and musk and need. My head was swimming, lust coating every nerve ending until I couldn't think straight. I was fixated on the feel of him in my arms and in my hand, wanting his orgasm like the delicious prize it was.

Rhys' breathing was coming in harsh pants, fingers digging into my shoulders as his body tightened up.

“Look at me,” I roughly whispered. His head lulled back until our gazes connected and my heart seized. “I want to see you when I wring you dry. Give me what I want. Give me your cum, sweet boy.”

Rhys tensed up and his mouth fell open on a silent scream, his eyes fighting to stay locked with mine as I watched that beautiful moment he fell over the edge. His cock jerked in my grasp, cum drenching my hand as I dragged out his climax with a relentless rhythm.

My eyes never left his and I was captivated by the pleasure that submerged him, the violet hue drowned in the intensity of his release. I wanted to drown right alongside him.

He slumped into my arms as his orgasm faded, heavy breaths hitting the side of my neck and sending a shiver down my spine. Once he was steady enough, I released him and stepped back to grab papertowels to clean up. I wiped us both off and tucked him back into his jeans, the whole time feeling him stare at me.

When I looked back up, his face was a mask of confusion. “What about you?” he asked.

“That was just for you, Sweetness. I owed you one, remember?” I smirked, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He subtly leaned into my touch and I felt my heartbeat down in the pit of my stomach.

“That was one hell of an apology, Hawkins. Good job,” he quipped, a smile slowly taking over his face.

“Does that mean I'm forgiven?” I joked, my own smile mirroring his.

“I'll take it into consideration, but you have a lot to make up for. You're like, five percent forgiven now.”

“Ouch! Your rates are steep, Evans. That was at least ten percent. I'm feeling jipped here,” I teased as we exited the bathroom and headed back to the table.

“You need to recalibrate your scale if you thinkthatwas worth ten percent,” Rhys said flippantly.

“Wow. With you around, who needs self-esteem? You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

“I thought you said I was the special one?”

“Fake news. I don't recall saying that.”

His soft laugh reached me through the noise of the restaurant and it drew one from me reflexively. A sated serenity fell over us, and I soaked up the feeling of being with him like this, absent of hatred and revenge. He was right. I had a lot to make up for, but this seemed like a good start. We finished our food and talked for another hour.

I left feeling lighter than I had in years with a ridiculous smile plastered to my face.

13

RHYS

“Don't forget that your papers are due this Friday before you leave for Thanksgiving break. Make sure you are not waiting until the last second to write these since they are a significant portion of your grade. I will be able to tell! Class dismissed,” Professor Graham called out across the room as we packed up to go.

I waited until most of the class emptied before I headed out, thinking about the final touches I needed to put on my paper. I was lost in my thoughts when hands squeezed around my middle, forcing out an embarrassing squeak and sky rocketing my adrenaline.

“Son of a donkey!” I screeched as I whipped around to see the culprit. Cal was laughing shamelessly a few steps behind, clearly enjoying my dramatics.

“You are the most skittish, jittery person I've ever met. You make it way too easy,” Cal chuckled, eyes still shining with mirth.

I shot him a dirty glare and hiked my bag up higher on my shoulder, hating the jolt of happiness I got from seeing him. Since our lunch last Tuesday, we'd been texting much more and Cal had surprised me a couple times after classes to have lunch with me. I had told him in no uncertain terms that I would never give him my entire class schedule because I didn't trust him with such sensitive intel.

Two hours.

That butt-faced baboon cracked me in two hours.

Okay, maybe I was secretly happy he had asked in the first place, but whatever.

“I'm well aware that I'm a neurotic mess. Thank you so much for pointing it out on this lovely afternoon. What's next on the agenda? Dissecting my childhood trauma?” I asked sardonically, leading us out of the building.

Cal's rough chuckle vibrated through me, making me feel warm all over. “As titillating as that sounds, I was thinking tacos. I assume you're okay with that alternative?”

---