His fingers brushed against the damp heat between her legs, and he paused, his breath catching in his throat. He felt the slickness, the evidence of her arousal, and his eyes darkened with desire.
He moved his hand, his fingers parting the delicate folds of her flesh, searching for the sensitive bud nestled within. He found it, slick and swollen, and began to gently tease it, his touch light and rhythmic.
At the same time, he returned his attention to her breast, his mouth closing over the nipple, his tongue swirling and sucking. The combination of sensations sent Heather spiraling, her moans growing louder, her hips bucking against his hand.
The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of sensation. Rhys's mouth, hot and insistent on her breast, pulled at her nipple, while his fingers, slick and knowing, worked their magic between her legs.
Oh…oh god… Heather's thoughts fragmented, her mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure. It's too much…so much…
His touch, both delicate and demanding, sent shivers of electricity through her. The rhythmic pressure against her most sensitive point, combined with the tugging and sucking on her breast, built a tidal wave of pleasure within her.
I'm…I'm going to… A whimper escaped her lips, her body trembling on the precipice.
This…this is it, she thought, her mind a blur of white-hot sensation. I can't…I can't hold on…
A wave of heat washed over her, a tightening, a clenching, a release so intense it stole her breath. A cry ripped from her throat, her body convulsing as she shattered into a thousand pieces.
"Rhys…" His name echoed on her lips, a silent prayer, a desperate plea.
The pleasure pulsed through her, wave after wave, each one more intense than the last. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his hair, her body arching and trembling as the aftershocks rippled through her. Oh god…oh god…
The world slowly began to come back into focus, the haze of pleasure receding, leaving her breathless and weak. She lay beneath him, her body still trembling, her heart pounding against her ribs.
What…what just happened? she thought, her mind still reeling. I…I've never…
A wave of exhaustion washed over her, her body heavy and languid. She felt Rhys's warm breath on her skin, the gentle weight of his body above her.
His hand, still resting between her legs, gently stroked her swollen flesh, sending shivers of lingering pleasure through her.
He…he did that, she realized, her eyes fluttering open.
She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his. His eyes were dark and intense, filled with a raw, possessive desire that made her breath catch in her throat.
Rhys kissed Heather's lips again, a lingering, possessive caress. He then shifted, his fingers parted the folds and attempted to slide his fingers inside her, but Heather instinctively tensed, her legs closing together.
"Rhys... wait..." Heather murmured, her voice soft but firm.
She gently cupped his face in her hands, drawing his gaze to hers. "Wait," she repeated, her eyes pleading.
Rhys's eyes, still dark and heavy with desire, met hers. He paused, his movements stilled, his breath warm against her skin.
"I'm not yet ready," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Rhys continued to stare at her, a flicker of confusion and lingering passion in his eyes, as if struggling to comprehend her words.
"Baby, I'm sorry," she said, her voice laced with a gentle apology. "I'm not yet ready for that."
The words seemed to register, finally breaking through the haze of desire that clouded his senses. He lowered his head, resting it gently against her chest, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
After a moment, he raised his head, nodding slowly, his eyes conveying a silent understanding. "Okay," he murmured, his voice husky.
He withdrew his hand from beneath her underwear, his fingers slick with her arousal. He paused, his gaze locking with hers, and then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he brought his fingers to his lips.
He looked directly into her eyes as he sucked each finger clean, one by one. A low growl rumbled in his throat, a primal sound that vibrated through the air between them.
"Taste of you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So sweet." He licked his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. "Like honey."
A wave of heat washed over Heather, a strange mix of arousal and vulnerability. The raw intimacy of the act, the blatant display of his desire, sent a shiver down her spine.
The intensity of his gaze, the possessiveness in his voice, made her breath catch in her throat.
After a while, Rhys shifted, gently pulling her underwear back up, his touch tender and reverent. He then pulled the bra cups back up, and then leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. The kiss was slow and gentle, a stark contrast to the passionate frenzy of moments before.
What do I do now? Heather wondered, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I…I enjoyed that. More than I thought I would.
Rhys rose from the bed, his gaze lingering on Heather for a moment before he spoke.
"I'll just go to the bathroom," he said, his voice husky. "You can get dressed."
He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, and then turned, walking towards the bathroom.
As the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, he leaned against it, closing his eyes. A wave of frustration and lingering desire washed over him.
He had lost control, his initial intentions of gentle kisses and quiet cuddling spiraling into something far more intense.
He could still feel the throbbing ache of his erection, a physical manifestation of the need that still burned within him.
Damn, he thought, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He felt like he was about to burst.
With a sigh, he unzipped his pants, pulling down his boxers. His erection sprang free, pulsing and demanding.
I wanted to be inside her so badly, he thought, his hand closing around his shaft.
He began to stroke himself, his movements rhythmic and insistent. His mind replayed the events of the past few minutes: Heather's soft moans, the feel of her warm, soft skin beneath his touch, the slick heat of her arousal. He savored the memories, each one fueling the fire within him.
He imagined her beneath him, her body arching and trembling, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. The images intensified, building the pressure within him until he felt himself teetering on the edge. A groan escaped his lips, his body shuddering as he released, the force of his climax surprisingly intense.
He reached for a tissue, ensuring he contained the mess, avoiding any unnecessary cleanup. After a few moments, when the throbbing ache had subsided and his breathing had returned to normal, he zipped up his pants and exited the bathroom.
When Rhys emerged from the bathroom, Heather was already dressed, her floral dress flowing gracefully around her. She was carefully applying a light layer of lip gloss, her movements precise and delicate.
She glanced at him, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Ready?" she asked.
Rhys nodded, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks. He quickly wore a shirt and gathered his belongings, his movements slightly hurried, as if eager to leave the lingering tension of the bedroom behind.
They walked out of the condominium in a comfortable silence, the morning sun casting long shadows across the hallway. The elevator ride was brief, and they stepped out into the cool, underground parking garage.
Rhys opened the passenger door for Heather, a gentlemanly gesture that she acknowledged with a grateful smile. As she settled into the seat, he closed the door gently and walked around to the driver's side.
The drive to Heather's aunt's house was a quiet affair, filled with a comfortable, unspoken understanding. The events of the morning hung in the air, a delicate tension that neither of them dared to break.
Rhys's hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, and Heather gazed out the window, watching the city scenery blur past.
As they approached her aunt's house, Heather turned to Rhys, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Thanks for driving me," she said, her voice gentle.
"Of course," Rhys replied, his voice low. He pulled the car to a stop in front of the house. "I'll message you later."
"Okay," Heather said, her eyes meeting his. She leaned across the console, placing a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek. "Be careful at work."
Rhys nodded, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. "You too," he said.
Heather stepped out of the car, waving goodbye as she walked towards the house. Rhys watched her until she disappeared inside, then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at his watch, realizing he was already running late.
He started the car, pulling away from the curb, his mind already shifting to the demands of his workday. He still had a meeting with his bandmates and then a photoshoot for their upcoming album. He needed to focus.