Page 20 of Crown of Thorns

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I dump a bunch of bath salts straight from the container into the tub and then climb in. I settle back into the lounger end and close my eyes.

I can’t relax.

I count forward and backward. I try to quiet my thoughts, but I can’t. Finally, I sit forward feeling more frustrated than ever.

My mask is now dry, and my skin feels tight. I grab a washcloth and dip it in the warm water before scrubbing it off my face. Then I grab a tub of sugar scrub and take out my emotions on my delicate skin, scrubbing it within an inch of its life.

With a heavy sigh, I pop the drain on the tub and stand up to dry myself off and slather vanilla scented lotion all over me. With no answers I’m willing to live with presenting themselves in my brain, I pull on a pair of loose sweatpants and a t-shirt. I brush my teeth and climb into bed. Leo curls up in the crook of my lap as I lay on my side, and I slide my fingers through his soft fur over and over until the sound of his happy, quiet purrs lulls me to sleep.

• • •

I’m hot.

A fevered flush rushes through my body, sending sparks and tingles down my legs through my toes and up my face to my hair, not to mention everywhere in between. Its pulse beats wildly from my center in anerotic rhythm and my eyes flash open as the air leaves my lungs and an orgasm I definitely wasn’t expecting crashes through me.

I look down to between my thighs where Rhys’s dark head is bent over me, devouring me, and I cry out because he knows what he’s done to me and still, he won’t let up.

“Rhys,” I pant when he thrusts two fingers inside me, making my hips arch up off the bed as he drives me toward the edge again. The way his ice blue eyes watch me for my body’s every cue, every reaction, while he licks and kisses and bites me in my most intimate places is more erotic than I ever could have anticipated before he initiated me into the pleasures of sex. “Please.”

He pulls his fingers from me, and I watch as the muscles ripple and flex over his bare chest as he pushes up to his knees and shoves the midnight silk pajama pants down his hips, letting his long, thick cock spring free.

“Please, Rhys,” I beg as he wraps his fist around his shaft and strokes. “I need you.”

He covers me with his body, the blunt head of him pressing against my opening. Rhys presses his fingers against my jaw, angling my face so I can’t look away. “Only me,” he says, the pads of his fingers biting into my cheek, the smell my arousal on his hand. “Say it.”

“Only you,” I tell him. “I need you. Only you.”

And then he drives deep. I pull my legs up to wraparound his waist, desperate to keep him buried deep inside me. It feels like if he leaves me now, I’ll be empty for the rest of my life, and I can’t bear that. I need Rhys to fill me up in all the ways that only he can.

He slides his hands under my arms, and I wrap them around his shoulders just in time for him to slide out and plunge back in, hard and fast. My mouth drops open, and Rhys presses the advantage it leaves him to drop his mouth to mine and lick inside. I suck his tongue deep, desperate to keep him with me for as long as I can.

He pistons in and out and I rake my nails down his back, grabbing onto the globes of his backside, trying to hold him deep inside me. It only makes him smile as he leans on his elbows and frames my face with his hands. He wiggles his fingers into my hair and kisses me over and over.

“More,” I moan.

He drinks down my cries as he rolls his hips over mine again and again.

Nothing works, not my pleas or my efforts to force him to do what I want. But that’s not really what I want or need because as he keeps up his pace, kissing me, touching my face as he does, I feel my orgasm build in me like a white hot fire burning through my body.

The only thing I can do is dig my nails in and hold on and I scream as it rolls over me.

He grabs my thigh in his strong hand and pulls it upward, holding me open to him as he pumps into mefaster and faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, hen,” he calls out as he pulls me onto his cock one last time and I feel him pour hot cum into me as he releases.

He drops his chest down to cover mine, giving me some of his weight as he falls and when he does, I hear him say, “But fuck, hen, it’s never been bloody better than with you. Never.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything at all. I just hold onto him while he holds onto me, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve just been given everything I’ve ever wanted. At the same time, it feels like nothing will ever be okay again.

And then suddenly he rolls to his back taking me with him and I decide that those are thoughts for another day.

“I’ll get you back for that,” I mumble into his chest and the sound of his deep chuckle makes me smile.

“If you give me a moment to recover, lass,” he says as his fingers sift through my hair. “I’ll let you suck me off before you ride my cock if it’ll make you feel better.”

I pause for a moment before answering. “It might…”

He doesn’t say anything but just plays with my hair, lulling me into a false sense of comfort and safety. I lay there for a while, nestled in his arms while he draws shapes on my back and sifts his fingers through my hair.