Page 54 of The Hellion and the Captain
Finally, his desire for her won out, as he rocked his hips forward and sheathed himself fully inside of her, a roar filling the room as he did so.
She cried out in turn as she was instantly filled, stretched, more than she would have ever thought possible. Physically, of course, but her soul seemed to tremble at their joining. Her eyes met his, finding his own shock equal to hers.
But they would deal with those emotions later. For right now, she was too caught up in how perfect he felt within her, how that first thrust nearly sent her right over the edge, as he hit places within her that she hadn’t known could cause such pleasure.
He rocked against her a few more times, and while Emmaline nearly lost the ability to breathe, she needed something more. She wasn’t entirely sure how to get it, but instinct told her to take control herself.
Using her legs, strengthened by their hours of training, she flipped him over so that she was on top, straddlinghim.
His initial shocked surprise soon turned into a wicked grin, and she loved how a man who usually took command of all situations would take joy out of giving it up to her.
As soon as she seated herself down on him again, the friction between them caused pleasure to streak through her like a bolt of lightning.
His hands wrapped around her hips as he moved her up and down harder and faster, slamming into her with the same ferocity he brought to the football field. Maybe he hadn’t given up as much control as she had thought.
She ground herself into him as he thrust, sensations beginning to grow inside of her that made her feel like she was going to shed her skin and enter another plane.
He thrust one final time, and she found herself tumbling into what felt like a free fall over the edge of a never-ending abyss of pleasure.
Rhys gave a shout as he followed her, holding her against him while he found his own pleasure, his upper body curling up toward her as his arms wrapped around her and his mouth met hers, joining them in every way possible.
When they were both finally spent, they collapsed together on the bed, Emmaline’s head falling into the crook of his arm as they breathed heavily, neither of them capable of speaking while they came to terms with what had just occurred between them.
Emmaline had never felt so cherished, so complete. Being with Rhys, joining with him so intimately, felt like coming home.
Afterwards, they lay tangled together, Rhys’s strong arms wrapped around her. Emmaline rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.
“I don’t ever want to leave this moment,” she murmured. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
Rhys pressed a tender kiss to her hair. “I know, luv. But that’s not real life for us. Not right now.”
“But could it be?”
“Perhaps. One day.”
She lifted her head to meet his intense blue gaze. In his eyes, she saw her future. Their future. She just had to make him understand that overcoming any obstacles in their way was possible — as long as they were together.
Sealing that unspoken vow with a gentle kiss, Emmaline nestled back into his embrace, content — for now.
Chapter Eighteen
“Lockwood!”
Rhys looked up to see Lord Harcourt standing on the edge of the practice field, arms crossed over his chest as he stared him down.
He looked stern, but even the worry was hard to bring down Rhys’s euphoria after the best night of his life had taken place the night before. Emmaline was everything he had ever wanted and more, and her appetite for him was more than he could ever have dreamed about.
As the club’s primary sponsor, Lord Harcourt – Lily’s father – had taken a greater interest in the team as of late, but to be summoned by him near the end of practice was not usually a good sign.
Colin knew that better than anyone, having had a few interactions with him the past season, and he shot Rhys a glance of concern as Emmaline stared openly at them. Colin booted the ball toward her, allowing it to softly hit her calves, as though to remind her of where and who she was, and that she shouldn’t be drawing any attention toward herself from Lord Harcourt, a man who had known her since she was achild, although he had never been particularly present or observant. Fortunately, she dropped her gaze, and Rhys slowly ran over to the side of the field, stopping before the viscount.
“My lord,” he said with a nod of deference. “What can I help you with today?”
“A word,” he said, crooking a finger at him. Rhys called out to Colin and Felix to finish up the end of practice, telling them that he would see them all for the game on Saturday before he took off, following Lord Harcourt, who had just expected him to follow along as he led him across the field and up to the administration offices of the mill just beyond the practice field.
It wasn’t until they had walked up the stairs to the mill manager’s office that Lord Harcourt took a seat and motioned for Rhys to do the same in the chair before the desk.
The hum of the factory machines filtered through the office while the factory floor, where a couple of his teammates spent their days, was visible through the large windows on the wall of the office. Rhys focused on Lord Harcourt.
