Page 50 of Silverproof Damsel

Rhys fucked me harder than I’d ever been fucked before. He swiveled his hips, then became unhinged as he thrust furiously against my body. It wasn’t fucking. It was something more primitive. Something more primal. It was brutal. It was beautiful. It was everything, yet nothing.

Time passed as he fucked me without mercy. I never asked for it, either. I let him use me until he’d sated his need on my sore, swollen flesh. Tomorrow, I’d have bruises to remind me of what it felt like to truly be fucked by Rhys. That was an issue for tomorrow, though. Not today.

By the time he’d flooded me with his come, I was trembling and oversensitive from each orgasm he forced me to feel. They were endless. My voice was hoarse by the time I began begging for him to have mercy. As if he hadn’t heard my pleas, he continually fed until I no longer moved beneath his muscular, forceful body.

I violently awoke, jumping to my feet and tumbling forward in the dimly lit bedroom. With wide, horrified eyes, I discovered Rhys who was sitting with pillows behind him with his arms folded behind his head, smiling arrogantly.

Sweat dripped between my breasts as my entire chest rose and fell with arduous pants escaping my throat. My apex felt swollen, as if hehadfucked me. I refused to look down. Even as his stare dropped, his mouth twisted into a smug, self-assured smile.

“Good morning, Silversmith. How did you sleep?”

“Fine!”I screeched, sounding unhinged, even to my ears.

“Fine? You woke me up. You were moaning rather . . .loudlyin your sleep,” he disputed with mischief scintillating in his gaze. Leaning on the bed, he stretched out, shamelessly. As he did, it uncovered his impressive, unclothed form for my eyes to feast on. Tattooed skin and firm muscles lined my vision before it drifted lower, finding him fully erect.

Shaking my head to force the impure, naughty thoughts from my mind, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “So, fucking hard . . .” Heat exploded in my cheeks to slither down my neck. “Fuck me.” That wasn’t what I’d meant to say, was it? No. Inviting Rhys Van Helsing to fuck me was exactly how I’d ended up in this situation in the first place! “No! Do not fuck me. I’ll fuck you! Shut up, Remington!”

“If you want, you can ride it to ease that hunger churning through your cerulean-colored depths. If not, you have the run of my wing today. I’m sure you can be creative and keep yourself . . . entertained. Or do you need me to entertain you myself?”

“I’ll be fine on my own.” Swallowing past my suddenly swollen tongue, I felt a blush surging up my chest, stinging my cheeks.

I’d dreamed it all up. I’d fallen asleep, worried about him abandoning me here, alone. In having him at the edge of my subconsciousness, I’d conjured him like a sex god into my fantasy. Right? Because if not, then he’d meant to infiltrate my dream, turning it into a smut-filled fantasy. One I’d willingly participated in.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Thefragranceofperfectlyaged whiskey and hints of dark, sinful masculinity floated throughout the room. I fought against the desire to devour the man in front of me. It felt as if I’d transformed into a different species. Specifically, one requiring sex as a substitute for sustenance. In short, it felt like I was losing my mind.

Licking my lips, I retreated until the wall was at my back. The moment it connected against the hard surface, I edged sideways as Rhys’ dark head lifted, causing his stomach to tense, exposing his impressive abdominal muscles to my widening stare.

“Are you running away from me, Love?”

Nodding emphatically, I considered using words. Regrettably, I didn’t excel at making coherent thoughts, let alone words, or at least not when he was around. Instead, I repeatedly bobbed my head in answer, watching as he sat upright before leaving the bed in a fluid motion.

“Why are you running away?” His eyes glittered with amusement at my expense. “Pussy cat got that tongue?” Hispalm planted beside my head, flat on the wall, allowing him to lean closer to me.

I slid my hands behind my back to restrain myself from doing something idiotic, like touching his bare chest. The moment I did, my hold on the sheet released, sending it to the floor. Cool, soft material pooled at my feet, causing my eyes to round in horror at losing what little defense I’d had from him.

“You dropped your sheet, my lady.” Rhys’ lips spread into a disarming smile. His smile left me sputtering as words failed to enter my mind.

“A true gentleman would retrieve the lady’s modesty for her. He wouldn’t point out her mistake.” Rhys’ smile turned wicked before sliding his glittering stare down between our bodies. The warmth simmering in them melted my insides to nothing more than liquefied heat. A soft chuckle escaped from between his lips before those same ravenous depths drove upward, then settled on my face.

“Would he, though? Even if she were the most exquisite creature he’d ever seen before?” His words caused butterflies to take flight in my abdomen. As if they’d broken free of the net, they all erupted into flight without warning.

“I’m positive he’d do so.” Nodding to reinforce what I’d said, I mentally patted my back over the small victory. It was short lived, however, as he slowly lowered before me. Rhys’ heated breath fanned my flesh, creating goosebumps over every inch of my entire body.

Rhys blew against my naked core, then, without warning, flicked my clit with his tongue. It garnered a soft whimper in response. Dark laughter rumbled as he kissed the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh.

Embarrassment slowly crept up my chest to paint my cheeks pink as arousal flooded my core. This wasn’t aiding my needto consume Rhys like he was a snack, and the clock had struck snack time.

Rhys’ fingertips danced along the outside of my legs. The entire time, his eyes held mine, riveted and unable to look away. Issuing a needy mewling sound from my lips, I trembled as he started rising with enticingly slow caresses over my naked legs. The cruel, sadistic prick continued rising until his lips hovered a hairsbreadth from mine.

“Your shield, Love. Though, I did enjoy retrieving it for you.”

Biting my lip, I released it with a soft pop of air. “Mistakes might’ve been made in my earlier argument.” I felt embarrassment creeping up my chest, flushing my cheeks. My overreaction to him, simply breathing over my skin, was beyond absurdity. Sure, he’d flicked my magical bean, but, even if he hadn’t, I’d have responded the same way.

“Is that so?” Rhys planted one hand above my head against the wall, setting alarm bells inside my head. Next, he leaned closer, placing one finger under my chin, then lifted it until his amused, glittering stare held mine. “You smell delectable when you’re fighting the need to be fucked, my precious silver. Fight me all you like, but you’re going to lose this quarrel.”

“I am not going to lose, Rhys.” I was already losing. Losing my ability to think. Losing my ability to form coherent words. Losing the will to deny myself what I knew would be great sex. I was fucked. Plain and simple. Unfortunately, I wasn’t coming violently or liking this version of it.

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