Page 22

Jade

T he evening air is cool as Rhys and I step back through the door of Alexis and Bryant’s Beaver Creek home, our laughter fading into the quiet. Rhys’ hand, warm and confident, slides from the small of my back to rest at my hip, his thumb pressing just so. My heart hammers, remembering the charged dinner where every glance was a promise.

“Jade,” he murmurs. “You’ve been teasing me all night.”

His words should set off alarms. But feminist principles be damned, instead a fire ignites within me. I bite my lip. The game we started at dinner is about to become real.

“Undress,” he commands.

Accepting the challenge, I find the zipper at the side of my dress with trembling fingers, the sound loud in the still room. The fabric pools at my feet, and I step out of it, feeling exposed but oddly powerful. Underneath, I wear nothing but shadows and vulnerability, my skin prickling with anticipation.

In this room with Rhys, something primal stirs. I know I’m a strong woman. I stand for equality, for respect, for being heard. Yet here I am, baring myself willingly, because this…this is different. It was a command, but I know it was also a choice. I’m agreeing because I want and need this connection after a dinner filled with confessions and flirty banter.

I shield my breasts with an arm, a dance of modesty and invitation, while the heat of his gaze traces over me, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Rhys doesn’t touch me, not yet, but I feel him everywhere—in the space between breaths, in the silence laden with promises.

“Gorgeous,” Rhys murmurs, his voice rich and smooth. He steps closer, and the air crackles with electricity. His warm breath cascades over my flesh as he leans in, and then his lips are on me, drawing a nipple into the heat of his mouth.

I gasp, unable to hold back the sound or the surge of pleasure that follows. His tongue flicks, teasing, sending sparks of arousal straight to my core. “Don’t hide from me,” he says against my skin. “Not ever.” His reverence, the open admiration, strips away any remaining inhibition.

“Jade,” he commands, guiding me to the bedroom with hands that have taken ownership of my body without ever stifling my spirit. “Lie down.”

I obey, stretching out on the soft sheets. The bed is my stage under the spotlight of his attention.

“Spread yourself wide for me,” he instructs, his gaze searing.

I part my legs, revealing myself in the most intimate of ways. His eyes linger on the place where I ache for him, and he nods in approval.

“Show me,” he insists. “Show me what you like.”

I reach down, touching myself where I’m slick and sensitive. I circle, tentatively at first, but growing bolder with each stroke as I chase the pleasure that builds within me. My breath catches, hitching in my throat as I explore the familiar yet somehow new terrain of my own desire under his watchful eye.

“Your pussy is beautiful,” he praises, and his words fan the flames higher. He removes his shirt, his pierced nipple making me burn even hotter. I come to life under his attention, held in the embrace of his unwavering gaze.

“I…I usually use toys,” I confess.

“Did you bring them?” Rhys asks.

I nod, my cheeks flushing with the admission. “In the bedside table.”

He strides over and opens the drawer, retrieving a shiny silver vibrator nestled among my private things.

“Get it wet for me,” Rhys orders. He places it against my mouth, and I’m struck by the cool, metallic taste as my lips part to draw it in.

“Imagine it’s me,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress.

I close my eyes, licking and sucking the smooth surface, imagining the weight and heat of him. The cold, hard vibrator between my lips fills my senses, a stand-in for the thrumming urgency Rhys inspires within me.

As I lavish attention on the toy, I feel the teasing brush of his fingers against the slickness between my thighs. “You’re so wet for me, Jade,” he praises, and his words are like kindling to the fire that rages inside.

I focus on the sensation of the vibrator in my mouth and the relentless journey of his fingers exploring me, coaxing forth my arousal. It’s an intimate dance, one that pulls me closer to the edge with each deliberate stroke.

“Good girl,” Rhys approves, and I swell with a heady mix of pride and desire, eager for whatever comes next.

The vibrator comes to life with a flick of Rhys’s wrist, and he trails it down my body, leaving a wake of tingling as it meets the slick center of my desire. He strokes my slit with the silver toy, and a gasp escapes my lips. My body responds instantly, every nerve ending alight with electric need.

“Rhys…” I breathe out his name like a prayer, my hands clutching the sheets beneath me.

“That’s it,” he whispers, circling my clit. The sensation builds, an unstoppable force that consumes me whole. I can’t hold back. With a strangled cry, my back arches off the bed, every muscle in my body tensing as waves of pleasure crash over me.

“I love watching you come,” Rhys says, his voice thick with lust.

As I float back from the heights of ecstasy, he stands. The absence of his warmth is like a splash of cold water, and I shiver. “Don’t stop,” he commands, nodding toward my still-throbbing center.

Obediently, I reach down, my fingers tracing my swollen clit. Each touch sparks fresh jolts of pleasure, a reminder of the power he wields. Rhys watches intently, stripping away his pants, revealing the chiseled lines of his body. His cock stands proudly, hard as steel, an angle of pure male confidence.

The air seems charged with our combined arousal, and I’m lost once more in the tide, drowning in a sea of sensation and desire. Rhys’s gaze is an inferno, burning away every last shred of my inhibitions. “Tell me what you want,” he demands.

I’m beyond words, but I manage to moan out the single truth that consumes my thoughts. “You. I want you.”

His mouth captures my nipple. The suckling starts gently, a tantalizing pressure that draws a gasp from deep within me. Then comes the sharp thrill of teeth grazing tender flesh. My body moves with his, every thrust of his fingers inside me driving me higher until I’m desperate for release. My muscles tighten around him, instinctive and unyielding, as if my body knows it belongs to him. “Harder,” I whisper, and he complies, testing, teasing, finding the edge of pleasure laced with pain.

As Rhys leans over me, I feel an unfamiliar ache—not just for him, but for the safety he makes me believe in. It’s terrifying. I’ve fought so hard to be self-reliant, to stand on my own, but with him, it feels too easy to let go. Too easy to lean on him and risk forgetting how to hold myself up.

“Are you ready?” Rhys’s voice is rough with desire as he reaches for a condom.

I nod frantically, the need for him overwhelming any semblance of patience I have left. “Yes, fuck me now,” I beg as the latex rolls down his length.

He obliges, turning the vibrator to its highest setting and simultaneously filling me completely. The dual sensations are too much and yet not enough. I crave the climax that’s dancing just out of reach. As the vibrator buzzes against my clit, Rhys moves within me, each thrust driving me closer to the edge.

The sensation of him inside me is indescribable. My inner walls clench around him, as if my body recognizes its counterpart and refuses to let go. The exquisite pressure builds with each powerful thrust, and I am lost in the feeling, the world narrowing to just the point where we connect.

“Rhys!” His name is a strangled cry as the climax crashes over me, waves of pleasure radiating from the core of my being. It’s a maelstrom of sensation that leaves me breathless and quivering. I reach for his piercing and tug. He tenses, and a low groan mingles with my shouts. Then he’s shuddering, his release hot and pulsing.

He pulls out slowly, and I watch, still coming down from my high, as he stands tall before me. There’s smug satisfaction in his features. He knows exactly the effect he’s had on me. He offers his slick fingers, glistening with the evidence of our union, and I don’t hesitate. Drawing them into my mouth, I taste the tangy-sweet flavor that’s uniquely ours. His eyes darken, desire reigniting at the sight, and I can tell he’s far from finished.

“More,” I whisper against his fingertips, my voice laced with newfound hunger. “I want more.”

And the glint in his eyes promises me all of that and then some. “Sleep first, my love.” He pulls me close and kisses my head.

I curl into his body, his warmth chasing away the chill of the night. But as sleep tugs at the edges of my mind, a thought lingers. Being with Rhys feels safe, but just when you relax, safety has a way of slipping through your fingers.