“Sophie is my girlfriend.” His drawl frighteningly slow and measured, making my pulse spike. I close my eyes and let it wash over me. His girlfriend, I like it. It feels heavy, but good.
“Ah, mate, seems we share our great taste in women.” Humor sparkles in Andrew’s eyes, clearly enjoying making Rhys’ blood boil. Their mutual revulsion barely held at bay by their false smiles. Andrew’s eyes shimmer at Rhys’ barely contained jealousy.
“It’s time to go,” he seethes in my ear. He expects me to turn and follow him, but I am not ready. I turn to look at him.
“I am not ready.” His gaze is calculating, yes narrowed to coal black slits. There is a slight tick at the corner of his mouth and then he smirks.
“Well, Sophie, something has come up, and I need to leave. So, either you can accompany me, or you can stay.” The challenging arch in his brow is telling a bit chilling. “I will send Charlie for you whenever you are ready.” He is smiling, but his face is hard and cold like stone while he waits for a response. I know this is a test, that if I push, he will make me pay. How, I don’t know, but it’s clear to see that he has been pushed too far and is no longer playing. But I am tired of being dragged around, tired of being left alone. I know he wants me to go with him, obviously. And, I truIy want to go with him, I am going with him. But the territorial behavior is begging for my rebellion. I want to push him back for everything that has happened, every little hurt. For Nadja, for leaving me alone, for acting like a jealous ass. I am almost unable to fight the urge to defy him, just to teach him a lesson.
“Aye, Love. You should stay for a drink. We could get reacquainted.” Andrew sneers, and with that he has sealed my fate. Now I know I have to go with Rhys, for fear that his head will blow off. At the thought of being forced, I reach for extra courage to withstand his inevitable anger and step closer to Andrew, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, giving him a tight, too long hug.
“Goodbye, Andrew. It was so good to see you.” His big arms wind around me and hold me a little too close as he buries his nose in my hair. Oh, he is going too far, and he knows it. The gravity of Rhys’ low-lying anger pulls me from Andrew’s grasp. I push away from him, backing into the safety of Rhys’ arms.
“You smell even better than I remember.” He stares at Rhys hoping for a reaction. “It was good to see you, too, lovely Sophie.” He draws out my name with a wide, mischievous smile. “I hope to see you again. Soon.” Tipping his glass at me he winks, setting Rhys in motion.
“That’s never going to happen.” Rhys pulls me from the bar, down the hall and out a side door. The heavy metal door slams behind us and we are left standing in a narrow alley, the next building hardly more than five feet away. Limos hover at the curb lining the front of the building. The light over the door is dim, as one bulb is out and the other quickly fading. But the light in Rhys’ eyes is blinding. He is burning.
“You were too familiar with him. I don’t like it.” His quiet single minded declaration fills the cold silence between us.
“Well, tough.”
“Excuse me?” He steps closer, towering above me with his shoulders set in stone.
“I said tough.” Stepping closer, I square my shoulders, wishing I was a foot taller.
“You are mine, Sophie.” His lip curls, and he looks savage. Black eyes shine through narrow slits and his menacing tone slices through me. His large body looms over me making me want to press back.
“I know that you are kidding me, right?” Unbelieving of what he just said. I am not a piece of property to be owned, I belong to no one.
“No. I am dead serious. You. Are. Mine.” He says it with such conviction that I may have believed him if my mind wasn’t screaming Hell No!!
“You are an incredible hypocrite!” I shout. “I am not a toy, or a piece of property. You have a lot of nerve throwing a fit about some random guy. I have endured the sneers at the wedding, Nadja’s incessant interference, and all with a forced smile on my face. Now you are going to make me feel guilty? I have a past Rhys, just like you. Get over it,” I declare, indignant.
“Why were you so familiar with him? What…..how do you know him?” Exasperated with his feigned ignorance, I shake my head and watch his face slowly fall. The fire in his eyes fades and is replaced by disappointment and realization. “You said you were only with Collin.” His voice is soft, the fierce resonance falling into the background.
“No,” I say, quietly. “I said he was my first.” His eyes grow wide, his body practically vibrating now. “I haven’t been with a lot of people, but I do have a past.”
“How many?” he asks in a rush, unable to hold it in
“Why is this important to you? I wouldn’t dare ask you that kind of question.”
“How many? I need to hear it.” We stand, staring at each other, the impasse stretching like an elastic band, ready to snap and hurt someone. “Please,” he pleads.
“More than three,” I sigh, looking deep into his worried emerald eyes. His breath hitches in his puffed chest and he goes rigid. A violent shiver shakes my whole body as I stare into his cold eyes.
“I want to be the only guy,” he mumbles
“Well, you aren’t. That is unrealistic and unfair, Rhys. Can’t you see that?”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that I hate that you were with him. I hate that you have shared your body with him. That he saw you the way I get to see you.”
“No.” I reach out and grab his hand. “Rhys, nobody has ever seen me the way you see me. Nobody has ever made me feel the way you make me feel. And nobody ever will. I am more myself with you, freer with you than I have ever been, than I ever imagined I could be. Only you have ever really seen me, only you. You have to know that.” His fingers trap mine and he tugs me from the alley, towards the line of waiting limos. “Where are we going?”
“Home,” he declares. “I am going to fuck you until my name is the only name you remember.” Need pools between my legs, hot and heavy while the breath catches in my tight chest.
“I thought something came up?”
“I don’t care about anything but you right now. I need to feel you quiver around me, I need you to pull me in deep and hold me hostage. Nothing else matters.” He nods to his driver, Nicholas, and he opens the door.
Chapter 10
Rhys’ stride doesn’t falter as he glides into the back seat after me. I sit across from him and return his glower. His nostrils flare like a bull as we pull away from the curb. Streaks of light cross his face, the streetlights casting shadows, making him look dangerous and dark. I steel myself and sit back against the seat, watching him as he silently watches me. Block after block we coast past the street lights and he remains in the shadows, his silence growing hot and impatient. I squirm ever so slightly and his eyes flash with the excitement of a hunter who has finally spotted the weakness in his prey.
“Come here.” He extends his finger and beckons to me, letting his legs fall open. The timbre in is voice is low and cold and my core is hot. I watch him for a moment, his dark eyes sparkle as he raises an eyebrow and points to the ground between his legs. “I said, come here. Now.”
“No,” I say. He narrows his eyes at me while a long shadow stretches across his face, shrouding everything but his wicked grin. He purses his lips in thought, before releasing a rush of air and he chuckles. Resting a loose fist in his lap, he pulls my attention away from his face. His erection is protesting his pants, he stretches his fingers over his growing bulge, pulling at himself, tugging his pants tightly, the outline of his cock calling to me like a popsicle on a hot summer day.
“Did you say No?” Squaring my shoulders, I sit back against the seat and shake off his first attempt to rattle me, and taunt him with silence. The dark slits of his eyes flare as we pass under a streetlight before he again escapes into the dark. His deep voice is soft, and his intention is clear, intimidation. His serious tone sends a shiver down my back and I am thankful for the dark, when h
e leans forward into the light. “You mean to tell me that you are going to get me all worked up, tease me, make me jealous, on purpose, and then say no to me?” He is indignant, clearly shocked, but is he shocked by me or by his reaction. He is the one who is acting like a child, not me. He puffed his chest and tried to bend me to his will. I was just saying hello to an old friend.
“Absolutely.” I lean forward meeting him in the middle. His warm breath slides over my mouth we are so close, but we are in a standoff. Neither of us moves an inch, we just hover, our mouths reaching for one another, but our minds twisted in a petty war. He tugs at his bottom lip and I want to bite it. I want to jump across the car and let him take me. It is so hot in the car, the air so thick with tension and excitement that I want to strip down and ride him until he is empty, but I fight it. With everything that I have, I fight it. If I give in so easily when he is being so unreasonable, I will never again have control. I have to remain in charge of my life, he will not intimidate me. He leans back and assumes the dark again, hiding his face as he speaks in an even, monotone timbre.
“You are making a bid for control, Ms. Noelle, which is all fine and good, believe me, I enjoy a good row. But I will win. Yes, I may be an incredible hypocrite, but I am also a man. A man who has earned the right to take what is his.” My thighs twist against one another, hot and slick with my wanton lust for the brute in front of me. I am supposed to be standing up to him, yet instead I find myself exhilarated and flushed with a longing that threatens my very sanity.
“I will have you on your knees, and you will go there willingly, eagerly.” He sneers and I want to slap him, and then kiss him. Damn it! Why is he being such an ass and why am I not fighting back? It’s his arrogant insistence that he will prevail, his confidence makes him almost unstoppable, almost. In me, he has created a monster. I know that he wants me. I can see it in his face, all over his body. I believe him, almost easily, when he tells me how much he wants me now. And in making me feel so sexy, he has made me feel powerful, powerful enough to resist him. “I need you to understand what has happened tonight, Sophie. You played with me, you made me jealous. I do not like feeling jealous. I would gladly throw you over my knee, but somehow I don’t think that would work with you. No, I think something else is in order. In order for me to feel satisfied, that you understand the gravity of the situation, you will need to kneel at my feet. That will make me feel better.” I laugh before any other emotion can reveal itself, a full on belly laugh at his audacity, his cool declaration that I will kneel at his feet.
“I will do no such thing,” I declare before he even finishes. “You have gone too far, Rhys. Why would you want to humiliate me like that, to demean me for your pleasure?”
“Sophie, it is not about humiliation or demeaning you. It is about showing you how deeply I desire you. You make me feel so out of control sometimes. I need you to let me…I need you to trust me.”
“How am I supposed to do that when you turn into such a bully? When you demand that I submit? You must know that all I want to do when you demand things from me is to defy you. It’s like a knee jerk reaction.”
“Of course I know, I like pushing you, I like it when you try to fight me.”
“You like it when I lose.”
“I like it even more when you win.”
“That never happens.”
“It happens more often than you think.”
“It isn’t fair. I try to stand up to you, but you don’t play fair. If I felt we were on a level playing field, maybe I wouldn’t feel the need to push back so often. I like surrendering to you, Rhys, but when it is my choice. Not when you demand it of me. It makes me feel like nothing more than a plaything.”
“You are my play thing, Sophie.” He leers at me across the car as Nicholas opens the door and he pulls me up the steps. We are up the second flight of stairs, and into the large master bedroom before I pull my hand from his. He pulls his tie off, flinging it to the ground and starts pulling at the buttons on his shirt. I step out of my shoes before walking into the large closet, hoping for a second alone, but he is right behind me, his sweet breath sliding down my back, teasing my shoulders and inflaming my anxious blood.
“Please, Rhys, don’t make me feel cheap.” I am ashamed of my weak constitution, of the fact that I have to beg for mercy, at the fact that I let myself feel this way. The hardness falls quickly away from his features as he steps close to me, his big hands easily wound loosely around my upper arms.
“I am sorry to the depths of my soul if I have made you ever feel cheap, Sophie. I would never want to make you feel like that.” His hands circle around my back and he pulls me gently to his chest. He quietly undoes the satin bow at my back. “I just want you to understand how strong my feelings are for you. I desire you from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep with you in my arms. Hell, I desire you in my sleep. I just feel so out of control with you, so completely taken over. I could drown in you sometimes and that is frightening. And then tonight, you pushed me, I saw you with Andrew and I just lost it. I tried to stay calm, to know that I had no right to feel what I was feeling. But I did feel it.”
“What did you feel?” I ask, like a child anticipating the next page in a story book, while his warm hands slip under the fabric of my dress at the base of my spine and slide across my needy flesh. My dress falls to the floor and he stands back, gazing at me like a rising star. Lace top stockings and a lace brief are all the dress would allow and I am exposed. His eyes graze my nipples as they spill forward. And then his eyes meet mine and I am lost in his desperate need for me.
“That you belong to me, that you are mine and nobody else’s. I cannot accept the thought of you with anyone else, it makes me crazy. I want you to show me that you feel the same way. I want you to feel as powerless as I do. I am powerless, Sophie. You have me on my knees.” He runs his thumb across the top of my stocking. A breath catches in my throat as his eyes meet mine.
“What do you want from me, Rhys?” I am practically panting and all but given up the fight.
“I want you on your knees.” His firm hand is locked around my shoulder, but I sink to the ground under the weight of my own desire to do so. His hard cock juts straight from his body, pressing against the fine fabric of his slacks. He reaches around the back of my neck with one hand while his other hand makes work off his belt and his pants fall to the floor. He pulls his impressive erection from his boxer briefs and it bobs inches from my face, and I am overtaken with starvation. It is the ravenous hunger, the sudden dryness in my throat, that keeps my knees weighted to the cold, hard floor. My mouth feels so empty as I lick my lips, watching his hand glide up and down his silky steel shaft. He stops and watches me, hungry and wild for him. Watching him touch himself is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. The tension in his forearm pulsing as he holds himself just right, his body is so raw and masculine. The planes of muscle like sharp carved trails, perfect for my tongue to follow over the dips and curves of his salty skin. I want to reach out and touch him, take him in my mouth and let him slide to the back of my throat. But I wait.
His tip glistens as he takes a step closer to me, holding himself out to me. “Would you like a taste?” His husky whisper puts me in a trance and I gladly lean forward, running my tongue across the tip, laving away the glistening liquid that oozes from his beautifully engorged head. The slit wet with my spit, I part my lips and kiss the head, pulling air into my mouth, pulling cool air over his hot cock. He grits his teeth, pulling in a sharp breath before a glimmer flashes in his eye.
“Good girl, Sophie. Now, lean back and put your hands on your legs.” He steps closer to me, practically bending me with his body. I lean back and rest my palms on my calves, my head tipped to the ceiling. As he moves closer, he hovers with my chest between his thighs and looks down upon me. “You are so beautiful. God, I swear I will never get enough. Open your mouth.” I let my lips fall open as he probes my mouth, pressing gently against my lips and
then pulling back. Bending his knees, he sinks all the way to the back of my throat then pulls back again. This angle, his hips, it is designed for maximum depth, I can take it. And I want more. I let my lips go lax and my head roll back, opening my throat.
“Yes,” he hisses, sinking to the back of my throat again. A slight gag reflex threatens, but I push it away and let my head fall back a little more, taking him all the way to his root. “So deep, Sophie. You have all of me in that sexy mouth of yours.” His voice slices between his teeth as he sets a rhythm of slow retreat and deep thrusts. He fucks my mouth while I lean on my legs, my thighs begin to burn but I don’t care. I hollow my cheeks, pressing my tongue along the bulging vein raging up his long shaft. Watching his face is the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed. His twisted, flaming features unable to hide the sheer pleasure he feels, as he presses his cock into my mouth is intoxicating. Watching him take so much pleasure with me makes my blood boil. My whole body is on fire, my core is so wet, heat floods the air around me and my thighs are slick and sticky with my own need. He looks down at me and we lock eyes. I know any second I will surely combust from the electricity and lust that flows between us as he slides along my tongue like silk, his intense glare full of pleasure and awe.
His hand snakes out and he loosely wraps his fingers around my neck, his thumb coming to rest at the base of my throat as he thrusts deeper than ever. My eyes begin to water as he slides into my mouth, over and over again, but I relish it all, the taste of his skin, the feel of his steel, the burn in my legs. It all collides in a fury of excitement as he presses himself again to the back of my throat and stills.
“I can’t last, Sophie,” he pants. I move my tongue across the base of his erection and reach out to tickle his balls with the tip of my tongue when he pulls back and quickly slides himself back into my waiting mouth, quickly coating my throat with his hot seed. I let it slide down my throat, three long hot spurts, while he quakes in front of me. I let go of my legs and put my hands on his hips, licking his still twitching shaft from top to bottom, running my tongue over the engorged, sensitive skin until he is clean. Leaning back, I look up into his eyes and they are filled with something dangerous and delightful.
Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) Page 10