Page 90 of Flare

“Would I like to fuck you, Rhys? Yes, of course I would, just like I know you want me to. But do Ineedthat? No, I don’t. I’m vers, sweetheart, and I’ll have you any way I can get you. I like what we do. I love it. And we’ve come a long way since we started. I can hold you a lot of the time now without any issue. Don’t rush this, or us. I’m not in any hurry. I’m here for the long haul, Rhys.”

He said nothing for a moment, those dark brown eyes giving nothing away. Then he pressed our foreheads together. “I’m here for the long haul too. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“That’s something you’ll never do,” I promised. “We all fuck up, sweetheart, but this...” I pressed my flat hand over his heart. “Thiswill never disappoint me. I don’t need you to change, and I want to be here the day you finally believe it. We just need to keep talking.”

“Jesus Christ, come here.” His mouth landed on mine with a fury. “I want to eat you alive.” He mumbled the words disjointedly into my open mouth between biting at my lips and tugging my beard between his teeth.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” I kissed him back, my words muffled against his lips.

“Both. It’s high on this goal list Callum has me working on.” He sat back and feigned a serious expression. “Dear therapist. Goal number three. Eat Beck’s arse out till he comes like a train.” He smirked. “Or words to that effect.”

And I was pretty sure I spurted, just a little. “Dare I ask what goals number one and two are.”

He tapped his nose. “That would be telling.”

It was the first real specific Rhys had offered from his session. “Anything else I should know?”

“He said it’s fine to keep using the restraints while I work on techniques and gain confidence. No cold turkey. But he did give me a no-restraint touching exercise to practice. No sex, just a way to gently find my boundaries. He said we’d use what I learned from that to build a routine that would become like a gateway to unrestrained sex—a way to set the scene. Like I’m telling my body what’s coming and that it’s okay.” He cocked his head. “Do you wanna try?”

I stared. “What, now? You’ve just had a panic attack, Rhys. I’m not sure—”

“It’s not sex. And to be honest, for a short time after an attack, it’s like the pressure has been released and I’m really calm.” He put both of my hands on his chest. “At the moment, I’m here, Beck. Right fucking here. And I feel safe. That’s as good as it gets for me. It’s the perfect time.”

I held his gaze and then nodded, praying I didn’t screw up.

His eyes locked on mine. “Just slow strokes above the waist, front and back. No sexy bits.” He sent me a lopsided grin.

I snorted. “Right, no sexy bits. And you remember who’s touching you.” I leaned in to kiss him, taking my time to connect.It’s me, baby. It’s me.

He kissed me back, then pushed me away and took a few slow, deep breaths. “Okay, go.”

I took a calming breath and slowly started to move my hands, immediately jolted by the intense rush of pleasure at the unrestricted feel of his smooth flesh, every touch a ripple of cool over the hot need I’d carried since I first laid eyes on him. We’d never doneanythinglike this—something so simple and yet such a huge hurdle for Rhys. I hadn’t minded, but as his skin moved like silk under my palms, I could finally acknowledge the craving, like the first shot of the best drug you hadn’t known you needed, my pulse pounding in my throat.

Small circles on his chest grew bigger, his dark brown nipples hardening against the brush of my palms, but his cock stayed soft, nestled against mine, which was rallying at the touch of his body. But this wasn’t about sex. This was about connection. About hope. And quite possibly the most intense experience I’d ever had with another man in my entire life.

I swallowed hard and kept my hands moving, up to his shoulders, his neck, his head, fingers tunnelling through all that silky black hair as his head fell back and a soft moan bled from his open mouth. Then back down again, over his ever so lightly stubbled jawline to his arms. Down to his hands, each set of fingers lifted, examined, kissed, and then placed back on his thighs. When I looked up he was watching me, concentration etched in the lines of his brow, pupils blown, breathing ragged, but with the hint of a smile on his lips.

“You are so damn beautiful,” I told him, hands moving back up to his chest and then slowly, slowly around to his back, the hardest position for him, cradled in my arms. He tensed and I immediately moved my arms wide. “So beautiful.”

He blew a slow breath and nodded, and I continued with just my fingertips down his back. Down, down to those sexy-as-fuck Apollo holes and their silver studs, but no farther. His skin pebbled but he remained calm and focused, eyes locked on mine.

But on the second pass, he suddenly stayed my arms and whispered, “Enough.”

I dropped my hands to the floor, the pads of my fingers still zinging from the smooth path of his skin beneath them. He closed his eyes and drew a couple of deep breaths, the silence of his calming mantras filling the room like the swell of the sea as he sat quietly on my thighs.

The thunder of my heart against my ribs showed no sign of easing. It was the first time Rhys had offered me his body in this way, no restraints, none of his rules, and the enormity of what he’d done, the gift of it, suddenly slammed into my heart, and I gasped.

His eyes blinked open and he frowned. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head and huffed. “No, I’m not. How can something so simple be so fucking much?”

Rhys smiled and brushed the backs of his fingers across my wet cheeks, then pulled me close to kiss each one. “I’m with you there.” He stood and helped me to my feet before leading me back to the bed. He pushed me down and rolled me to my side, then crawled in behind and slung an arm loosely around my waist.

I took a breath and lifted his hand to cover my heart. “‘And we two lovers shall not sit afar, / Critics of nature, but the joyous sea / Shall be our raiment, and the bearded star / Shoot arrows at our pleasure! We shall be / Part of the mighty universal whole, / And through all Aeons mix and mingle with the Kosmic Soul!’”

“Oscar Wilde again?” he guessed.

“You know me too well.” I kissed his knuckles.

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