Page 81 of Peacemaker

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A Perfect Heat

Himself had lent Rhys some power so he’d be able to carry out his tasks before the battle. Maybe that transference allowed Rhys’s own mighty sexual power to peek out and allowed him to give us a taste.

Because there wasn’t a person in that room that didn’t shiver when Rhys turned it on. His voice, touch, and even the look in his eyes made me cold and hot at the same time. My stomach tightened, my mouth dried up, and I clenched my thighs against the heavy, throbbing need between my legs.

“You’re good,” I murmured.

He smiled. “I don’t mean to brag, but you have no idea.”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

He turned me so my back pressed against the front of his body. “Sweetheart, you are not the only one.”

“Are you some kind of sex god or something?” Leo asked, then redness climbed his neck when we all looked at him.

“Something,” Rhys said, smiling.

Leo hurried toward the kitchen door. “I’m going to see to the…” But he couldn’t seem to find a word for what it was he was going to “see to.” He yanked open the door and hurried out into a night that was much less awkward for him than my kitchen.

“What did you mean,” I asked Rhys, “get me ready for them?”

He didn’t answer. He moved his hands over my breasts and my stomach, then grasped the hem of my shirt. Without a word, he ripped my shirt open, exposing me to my watching men.

My entire body tightened when he cupped my breasts and slid his thumbs over my stiffening nipples.

No one said a word as Rhys touched me, just watched with heat and hunger and an almost feral need. I shivered and let my head fall back against his shoulder.

“Isn’t this difficult for you?” I asked weakly. I didn’t want him to stop, difficult or not.

“Oh yes,” he answered. “But I am sick to death of being left out of the fun stuff.” His eyes darkened further as he gave me a hint of a sexy smile. “I can handle it. I’m feeling a little more controlled tonight.”

I started to answer, but he pinched my nipples hard enough to shock me, and I gasped instead. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier and thicker, and made it a little hard to breathe. It seemed alive, almost.

And my men watched.

That fact made me hotter.

Angus stood with his arms folded, eyes heavily lidded, expression stern. I couldn’t read his face, but the look in his eyes was dark and dangerous and fierce.

Rhys tugged at my short hair and when I tilted my head back to look at him, he wrapped his dark hand around my pale throat, and I had the vision of it in my mind.

Oh, that’s hot. So hot.

Then he lowered his full lips to mine. He stroked my tongue with his, his fingers still around my throat, then began to slip his other hand down my body.

He unzipped my jeans, then pushed his fingers into my underwear. One of his fingertips dipped inside, brushing my clit, and the touch was like a zing of electricity.

I cried out into his mouth and heard Shane mutter fuck, gravelly and rough,like he was angry, like he was raging, like he was ready to beat the hell out of someone. But I knew him, and I knew how his voice sounded when he was turned on. Shane didn’t want to fight. He wanted to fuck.

I inhaled Rhys’s scent and his fingers tightened around my throat, holding the air in, causing me to throb painfully against his searching fingers. He loosened his grip on my throat at the exact moment he slipped a finger into my wet heat. His finger felt hot, and cold, and teasing and almost enough, almost, but I needed something more, and I knew he was aware of exactly what he was doing as I teetered on the edge of a climax he was not ready to let me have.

He shoved another finger inside me.

I clenched my thighs, holding him in, then wrenched my mouth from his because I needed to breathe, needed to cry out, maybe so I could beg him to finish me, to give me more, to never stop…

To stop.