Page 53 of Vetted for Vengeance
“I know I'm odd,” he confesses. “People always…”
“People don't know what you're hiding behind all this order,” I smile. “I do. And as I said, we can hang everything properly.”
When I throw the second sock at his head, it awakens something dangerous behind his eyes. He runs at me, knocking me down onto the mattress. Before I can protest, laughing too hard to try, he straddles me, kissing me again. Wriggling out of my pants while kissing is more difficult than I even imagined, but I managed.
I'm naked before him, ready for his final scrutiny.
He looks at me like he’s committing the sight to memory, as if making sure I’m really here.
His fingers explore my body, slower now. No longer testing. No longer careful.
Certain.
His touch drifts over my chest, down my stomach, lower; pausing just long enough to make my breath catch before continuing.
My back arches into him without thinking.
“Rhys…” His name slips out, softer this time. Not teasing. Not joking.
Needing.
His gaze darkens.
That’s when something shifts.
Not just tension.
Not just curiosity.
Possession.
He moves over me, pressing me into the mattress, his weight grounding, his presence overwhelming in the best way. His mouth finds mine again, deeper this time, hungrier, while his hands stop hesitating.
No more stopping to tidy.
No more pulling away.
Just him. Claiming my physically in the center of his large bed.
Just this. Rhys filling me completely.
The world narrows to heat and pressure and the way he holds me like letting go isn’t an option anymore.
Every movement is deliberate. Deep, controlled, but no longer restrained.
And when he finally stalled inside me, pulling me closer than anything has ever felt, there’s no space left between us at all.
No uncertainty.
No distance.
Only him.
Only this.
His forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my lips, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I don’t feel broken.
I just feel… wanted.
