Page 71 of Wild Side
My plan ends there.
I’m met with flushed cheeks, wide eyes, and parted lips. Her mouth. God. I can’t stop staring at her mouth. The light from upstairs shines down on us, illuminating her in the most enticing glow. What started out playfully suddenly feels serious.
“Caught you,” I rumble. “Now what?”
“Now…” she breathes, but doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, her head drops closer, body arching toward mine. Then she fists the front of my shirt and kisses me.
CHAPTER 26
TABITHA
My husband hasno fucking business looking this good. That’s how I’m justifying pouncing on him. Because Rhys and I are far too complicated for this to be a good idea.
Grief is still my constant companion, and a feeling I’ve become numb to carrying with me. I should be too sad—too angry—to maul this man.
But right now, I don’t feel any of those things. No, I feel electric. With Rhys holding me, I feel no sadness. And I want more of that feeling. Straddling his lap, with his hands on my waist, and that fucking mask tossed a few stairs up—I wanthim.
My hands cup his bristled jawline as I move my mouth, savoring this sensation.
He stills.
But then his fingers flex on my waist in a way that sends a current straight to my core. He makes no other move, so I take the lead, firm and demanding from the first swipe of my tongue. Leaving no sliver of doubt in his mind about what I’m after.
A quick nip at his bottom lip gets me a groan and a whispered, “Fuck, I’ve dreamed of this,” against my damp lips.
Then he grabs the back of my head and sears me with a kiss of his own. Like everything he does, there’s a raw power to eachmotion. The way his tongue lays claim. The way his opposite hand roams my hip, as though he’s touched me a million times before this moment.
His hand slips beneath my sweater to splay over my back. Having his hands on my body does nothing but drive me wild. It makes me want so much more, and that desperate feeling coursing through my veins gives me pause.
My fingers flutter over his cheeks. I cling to him, and he clings back. We fall into a rhythm. Give and take. Hard and soft. There’s no fumbling, no rushing, no clanking of teeth. We are perfectly in sync.
My heart thuds with a heavy, undeniable certainty as I kiss Rhys. I roll my hips and grind myself down, the hardness of him responding immediately. And when I startle back up, his hand lands on my shoulder, pushing me back onto him.
“Rhys,” I whisper, dragging the tip of my nose over his cheek while my fingers tangle in his mussed hair. “We should…”
He peppers kisses over the column of my throat with a reverence that makes my chest ache and my hips swivel. Pressure coils behind my hip bones as a familiar heat races up my spine.
“What should we do, Tabby?”
Tabby.
God, I almost purr at the way my name rumbles his throat.
“We should… You should?—”
His fingers slide down the column of my spine with firm, even pressure, and my ability to form words evaporates.
“Make you come before you leave for girls’ night?” I hear the taunt in his tone and feel the rasp of his stubbled cheek, no doubt hitching up into a smirk against my chest. “Tell me you’re on birth control so I can dream about fucking you bare, Tabby.”
“I am. Yesss.” I hiss the word, eyes fluttering shut as I imagine how it would feel to have him slide between my legs. To ride him. To have him fill me the way I’m sure only he can.
God, it would be heaven.
I grind down on him, lost to the fantasy.
“Fuck yes,” he groans, lifting his hips to match my fervor. He sends me into a delirious haze, dry fucking me while he sears me with another kiss that promises so damn much.
We claw at each other frantically. I’m drunk on him, and I want more. I want it all. His big hands. His deep moans. The smell of his skin all around me. Him moving inside of me, pushing me higher with every thrust.
