Mature Content Warning: This section contains a scene of explicit sexual activity. Reader discretion is advised.
Heather's ears caught Rhys's low, commanding tone, and a shiver of anticipation traced its way down her spine.
Her hips began a sensuous, deliberate sway forward and back, each movement a silent invitation, a burning offering designed to grind her core enticingly against Rhys's throbbing erection.
Every careful shift sent sparks of mounting pleasure through her, her sensitive clit finding exquisite friction against his engorged head.
A soft, yearning whimper escaped her lips, a sound laced with both desire and a touch of vulnerability as the tumult of wanting surged closer to the edge.
Sensing her growing intensity, Rhys matched her rhythm perfectly; his hips moved in unison with hers until a shuddering cry of release tore from her throat, her hand tightening instinctively on his shoulder.
"Rhys!" she cried, her voice saturated with raw passion.
In that heated instant, Rhys felt her arousal dripping over him, the warmth mingling with their fervent exchange.
As Heather rested her head tenderly on his shoulder, panting amid the lingering echoes of her moans, Rhys's arms wrapped securely around her, binding their bodies in the throes of desire.
In a husky whisper close to his ear, Heather breathed, "I love you," then lifted her face to capture his in a deep, consuming kiss.
I've waited so long to say that to him like this.
Their tongues intertwined in a dance of their own—a mingling of heated sensations that spoke of unspoken longing.
I think I'm ready...
Just as Rhys anticipated that she would continue her familiar, grinding rhythm, Heather surprised him by aligning her entrance with his waiting head.
Slowly, deliberately, she began to lower herself, each each millimeter of descent charged with an intensity that left him momentarily breathless, a knot tightening in his chest.
"Heather, wait," Rhys groaned, a note of panic threading through his desire, a sudden surge of protectiveness overriding his own need.
But meeting his worried gaze, Heather's eyes burned with determination. "I want you, Rhys," she declared softly yet firmly.
"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, the concern in his voice mingling with passion. "You're not just caught up in the haze of alcohol, are you? I don't want you to wake up tomorrow with regrets."
Her reply was steady and certain, her hand now finding his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin. "Yes, I'm sure. I want you." Leaning in closer, she enunciated each word as if it were a sacred mantra: "In. Me. Now."
At that, the last vestiges of Rhys's restraint shattered. His eyes flared with fierce desire, a primal hunger that mirrored her own. He carefully repositioned Heather, his hands trembling slightly as he prepared himself for their joining, her slow descent a tantalizing torment.
With his hands firmly cradling her hips, he helped guide her downward, their bodies beginning to merge in a rhythm both deliberate and primal, a slow burn igniting between them.
A rush of conflicting sensations overcame Heather as she noted, "Oh god... It's so big," even though only the head had entered, the unexpected breadth igniting a mixture of awe and apprehension within her. The sensation was overpowering—as though she might indeed be torn apart by the force of their union.
Rhys's guttural groan deepened as Heather continued her descent. "Fuck," he moaned, his voice a mix of shock and carnal delight, "you're so tight."
Hesitation whispered through her mind. "I don't think it'll fit, Rhys," she murmured, a tremor of uncertainty in her tone.
"Trust me," Rhys replied with a husky assurance, "look at how your pussy is devouring every inch of me." Watching intently as he slowly progressed into her, his gaze was as mesmerizing as it was fierce.
When only a sliver of space remained between their joined intimacy and the edge of complete union, Heather paused—allowing herself a brief moment to adjust to the overwhelming, engulfing presence of him inside her.
Then, with renewed determination, she resumed a slow, deliberate motion; an erotic rise and fall that deepened with every moan of pleasure.
"Oh god," Heather panted, her voice thick with lust as she quickened her pace, her body convulsing in a rhythm that spoke of unbridled passion.
Rhys, equally lost in the intensity, reached out to cup one of her trembling, bouncing breasts and, with fierce intensity, bit her nipple.
The sharp, delicious pain elicited a cry from Heather—a cry that sang with both pleasure and the wild abandon of their union.
"Shiittt," Rhys groaned in a raw, guttural tone, moving his hips in time with hers, thrusting his length deeper into the sanctuary of her desire.
In the final, heart-stopping moments, Heather's body tensed, every muscle clenching as orgasm surged through her. Her insides contracted powerfully around Rhys's hardened length, sealing their rapturous, and intensely charged communion in a climax that consumed her completely.
He's still so hard inside me.
Rhys let Heather bask in the aftermath of her previous orgasm for a moment, watching the soft tremors that still rippled through her.
God, she's beautiful. Even now, completely spent. Rhys thought as he gently lifted her, his arms supporting her back, feeling the delicate weight of her against him.
He watched, entranced, as her slick heat slowly slid up his still-hard cock, her juices coating his shaft, glistening in the soft light. Every inch of her is imprinted on me now.
He carried her effortlessly to their bed, depositing her onto the mattress before turning her around, positioning her on her hands and knees. His hands gripped her hips, the curve of her body fitting perfectly against his.
He lifted and tilted her ass, exposing her pink, swollen pussy to him, the sight igniting a fresh wave of desire within him. That's it. Just like that. Open to me.
He leaned down, his eyes locked onto her most intimate place, before plunging two fingers into her, the tight, slick heat instantly gripping him.
She was soaking wet, her juice coating his digits as he began to pump them in and out, stretching her, preparing her for more, for the fullness of him. So tight. So hot. I could live here.
"Rhys, wait--" Heather gasped, her breath catching in her throat, her body already exquisitely sensitive and primed, every nerve ending humming. He's going too fast. But… it feels so good.
He ignored her plea, his focus solely on her pleasure. Not yet. I want to taste her again. Instead, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, lapping at her, tasting the salty-sweetness of her arousal.
His tongue found her clit, circling it, teasing it with deliberate strokes, as he continued to finger-fuck her, building her back up to another peak. Her taste... It's addictive.
Heather's knuckles turned white as she gripped the soft bedsheets, her body tensing, a familiar tremor starting deep within her as the next orgasm began to coil, tighter and more insistent than before.
"Yes, that's it. Make me come, Rhys," she panted, her voice ragged with desire.
Rhys obliged, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, pushing her higher and higher, closer to the precipice until she cried out, a raw, primal sound as her body convulsed, her release flooding his face, a hot, fragrant wave.
He licked his lips, savoring her taste, the intimate act fueling his own rising need, before slowly rising to his knees, his gaze never leaving her trembling form.
His cock was rock-hard, throbbing with a deep, insistent ache as he aligned himself with her slick, open entrance. Now I need to be inside her. He held her hips steady, his thumbs pressing into the small of her back, and with one smooth controlled thrust, buried himself completely inside her.
Heather arched her back, a low guttural moan escaping her lips as she adjusted to the new, deeper angle and the intense pleasure it provided. Oh god. So deep.
"Fuck, Heather," Rhys groaned, his voice thick with lust and satisfaction. "You're so goddamn tight like this. I could stay buried inside you forever."
He began to move, slowly at first, savoring the exquisite friction, pulling back until only the head of his cock remained before sliding back in, filling her completely, stretching he rin a way that made her breath catch.
Every inch of her is clinging to me. Her inner walls clamped down around him, a tight, insistent embrace drawing a ragged moan from his lips. Unbelievable.
As her breath hitched and her moans grew louder, Rhys increased his pace, pounding into her harder and faster. His hand snaked around her hip, finding her clit and circling it in time with his thrusts. Faster. Deeper. I want to feel her shatter again.
Heather's screams filled the room as Rhys drove her relentlessly towards another shattering orgasm. Her body tensed, every muscle contracting, her release imminent. Rhys could feel it too, the way her pussy clenched around him, milking him, urging him to release with her, to lose himself completely within her.
"Come with me, Heather," Rhys gritted out, his voice strained with effort, his muscles screaming with the intensity. "I want to feel you come all over my cock while I fill you with my cum." Now. Now!
Her body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her, a violent, beautiful storm. Rhys felt the powerful contractions around him, his own release barreling through him, hot and thick, flooding her depths.
Their bodies shook together, a chaotic symphony of pleasure as they rode out the shattering waves, Rhys's cock pulsing deep inside her, a final, possessive act. Mine.
He collapsed onto her back, his chest heaving, his heart pounding against hers as he tried to catch his breath, the world narrowing to the feel of her beneath him.
His cock twitched, still half-hard and deeply embedde inside her, as their combined juices leaked out, warm and slick, dripping down her thighs.
Rhys slowly pulled out, a satisfied groan escaping him at the sight of their combined releases coating his shaft, a visual testament to their shared ecstasy.
He leaned down, pressing a soft, possessive kiss to her sweat-damp shoulder before helping her clean up, his eyes never leaving the sight of their lovemaking, a primal satisfaction coursing through him.