Mature Content Warning: This section contains a scene of explicit sexual activity. Reader discretion is advised.
Rhys's hand cupped Heather's jaw, tilting her face up as he claimed her mouth.
The kiss was hungry, demanding, their tongues tangling in a fierce, passionate dance.
His hand moved to her breast, gently tracing its curve before his fingers began to tease, flicking and pinching her nipple until it peaked. A soft gasp escaped Heather's lips.
To deepen the intimacy, he shifted her, turning her until she sat facing him, nestled on his lap. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him closer as the kiss continued.
His hands kneaded her breasts, eliciting a soft moan from Heather. The heat between them intensified, a palpable tension in the air.
Feeling himself harden, his hand trailed down her body, tracing the delicate curves of her waist and hips, before settling on the swell of her bottom.
He trailed kisses down her neck, his hot tongue flicking across her sensitive nipple.
Heather's fingers tightened in his hair, her moans growing louder. Her hips began to rock involuntarily against his growing arousal.
"Fuck, Heather," Rhys growled, feeling her heat rub against his erection, his body aching with need.
"You're driving me insane." He bucked against her, his voice hoarse with lust, unable to hold back the storm raging within him.
When the tension became unbearable, Rhys surged to his feet, water sloshing around him. The sudden movement startling Heather.
"Bed," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. "Now."
He hauled her out of the tub, her body slick against his, and carried her toward the bedroom without a second thought.
The bedsheets could drown for all he cared—he'd deal with them later. Right now, there was only one thing on his mind: unraveling Heather, again and again, until she was nothing but trembling pleasure beneath him.
He dropped her onto the mattress, earning a breathy squeal as she bounced.
Before she could recover, he was on her, his mouth sealing over hers in a searing kiss. His lips trailed fire down her throat, worshipping each breast with equal devotion while his fingers circled her clit in slow, torturous strokes.
She arched, gasped, then shattered with a cry, her body taut beneath his touch.
Before the aftershocks even faded, he was between her thighs, his tongue laving her in long, greedy strokes.
She whimpered, her fingers knotting in his hair as he teased her clit with flicking pressure, then sucked—hard—until her hips jerked and another orgasm ripped through her.
Rhys didn't let her escape. He lapped up every drop, groaning against her skin.
"You're so fucking sweet, Heather." Two fingers slid into her, curling just right as he walls fluttered around him. "Have I ever told you that?"
"Y-yes," she choked out, her voice strangled. The room spun, her head light, her body molten.
Then he fucked her with his fingers in earnest, each thrust deliberate, relentless.
Heather writhed, her hips lifting instinctively to flee the overwhelming sensation, but Rhys pinned her down, his grip unyielding.
"Rhys—!" Her moan broke into as gasp as his tongue found her clit again, his fingers pumping in time with each wicked lick.
She came with a scream, her back bowing off the bed. Rhys held her through it, savoring every tremor, before finally pulling back.
Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, but he gave her no reprieve.
He hooked her legs over his shoulders, his cock—hard and aching—dragging through her slickness, the swollen head teasing her clit with every slow, tortuous pass.
"You're dripping for me," he growled, his voice raw. And she was—she could feel it, the wetness coating her thighs, his length gliding effortlessly as he began to move forward and back.
He started slow, savoring the way she trembled under him, then he started moving harder, faster, until the bed rocked with their rhythm.
"I'm close," Heather gasped, nails scoring his shoulders.
"Come for me." His command was a rough whisper against her lips.
She did, her body seizing as pleasure crested, wave after wave crashing through her.
Rhys chased his own release, his movements turning erratic, until with a groan, he spilled over her, hot streaks painting her skin, mingling with her own slickness.
Heather trembled beneath him, boneless and breathless, as Rhys finally stilled.
He collapsed against her, his breath hot against her ear. "God, Heather," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.
He shifted slightly, pulling her close, his arms wrapping around her like a possessive embrace. The lingering heat of their shared climax still pulsed between them, a silent testament to the intensity of their passion.
The room was quiet, save for the sound of their ragged breathing. The air, thick with the scent of their mingled arousal, hung heavy and charged.
He remained still for a long moment, savoring the feeling of her warmth against him, the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath his hand.
Finally, he stirred, lifting his head to gaze down at her. Her eyes, still glazed with the afterglow of their lovemaking, met his. A soft smile played on her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that had just passed between them.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead, his touch gentle. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low and tender.
"Yes," Heather whispered, her voice still a little breathless. A thoughtful pause followed. "Are we still going out later?"
"Yes," Rhys confirmed, his voice firm. "We are."
He shifted, a sudden burst of energy breaking the languid stillness.
He rose from the bed, the damp sheets falling away, and retrieved his phone from the charger on the nightstand just outside the bedroom door. He dialed Jess's number.
"Jess," he said, his voice clipped and efficient. "I need the contact information for that real estate agent you used when you bought your place."
"Sure, Rhys," Jess replied, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Just a sec." Jess recited the number, and Rhys quickly saved it to his contacts.
"Thanks," he said, and ended the call.
He immediately dialed the real estate agent. "Mr. Evans?" he asked, once the call connected. "This is Rhys. Jess gave me your number. I'm looking to purchase a house, and I need to move quickly. Are you available to assist me today?"
"Mr. Rhys, it's an honor," Mr. Evans's voice, smooth and professional, filled the line. "Yes, of course, I can make myself available. Today, even. What kind of property are you looking for?"
"Something private," Rhys replied, his gaze drifting back towards the bedroom where Heather lay, still wrapped in the afterglow of their intimacy.
"Secluded, but not too far from the city. And spacious. I'd like a property with enough land for privacy, but also something modern, or easily modernized."
"I understand," Mr. Evans said, the sound of rustling papers in the background. "I have a few properties that might fit your criteria. One in particular comes to mind, a recent listing. It's a modern build, set on a sprawling estate just outside the Garnet City limits. Very private, very luxurious."
"Excellent," Rhys said, a hint of urgency in his tone. "Can we see it this afternoon?"
"Certainly," Mr. Evans confirmed. "Give me an hour to gather the necessary documents, and I'll send you the address. We can meet there. Is two o'clock convenient?"
"Perfect," Rhys said. "I'll see you then." He ended the call and turned back to the bedroom. Heather was sitting up now.
"Everything alright?" she asked, her brow furrowed slightly.
"Yes," Rhys said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Mr. Evans said he'll assist us. We're going to look at a house this afternoon."
"Our house?" Heather echoed, her eyes widening. "Or yours?"
"Ours," Rhys corrected, his voice firm. "If you like it, that is."
"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "About this?"
Rhys's hand tightened around hers, his touch firm and reassuring. "I've never been more sure of anything," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I want this, Heather. I want you."
"Yes, I want that too."
A slow smile spread across Rhys's face, a genuine expression of happiness that transformed his usually stoic features.
"Good," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "We'll go look at the house, and if you like it, we'll make it ours."
He stood, pulling on his clothes with a renewed sense of purpose. "We should get ready. Mr. Evans will be expecting us in a couple of hours." He glanced at the clock on his phone. "We'll have time to grab a quick lunch before we go."
Heather nodded, a dazed smile still lingering on her lips. "I'm looking forward to seeing it."
He paused, "Are you still okay with the location? Outside Garnet City, but not too far?"
"Yes," Heather confirmed. "The privacy is important, and being close enough to the city is practical."
"Excellent," Rhys said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Then let's get ready. We don't want to keep Mr. Evans waiting."
A lingering warmth still made her legs feel unsteady, so Rhys supported her as they went to the bathroom, washing away the traces of their passion before grabbing a quick lunch to go.