Page 48 of Not Made to Last

Becauseof courseit is.

I go straight for the stack of books on his bedside table to give my hands something to do. I pick up one, and then another, inspecting them as if they’re precious ancient artifacts that will disintegrate in my hands.

Rhys chuckles, catching onto my bullshit. “You good, Cheeks?”

“Yep,” I say, turning to him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, as relaxed as always.

I run my hand over the bedsheets. “This is nice,” I say, because I don’t know why. “What is it? A million-count goose-egg feather down?”

He laughs at this, his head throwing back, and then he takes my hand, tugs until I’m standing between his legs. He guides me to sit sideways on his thigh, my legs still between us. “Whatare you thinking right now?” he asks, his hand on my leg, not moving, not squeezing, justteasing.

I put my arm around his neck and get comfortable. “Honestly?”

He blinks.

“I’m thinking about how many times you’ve jerked off in this bed and if you’ve ever done it while thinking about me.”

“Four times,” he answers, not skipping a beat. He shifts his hand, his fingers splaying on my inner thigh as he glides it higher, higher. “And only since I met you, so all four times have been about you.”

I squirm, my legs parting as if on their own. “What am I doing to you when you think about it?”

His eyes narrow, just a tad. “You’re naked, legs spread…” He squeezes my thigh, hard, and I let out a moan. “While I lick your pussy…”

My vision blurs, heat crawling up my spine, and I shift forward an inch, so the tips of his fingers touch my center. “Rhys,” I almost beg, and he answers by running the back of his fingers against me. I’m sure he can feel how warm I am. Howwet.

He brings his mouth to my shoulder, kissing, licking, sucking, then makes his way up my neck, all the way to my ear. I force myself to breathe when he flicks my earlobe, takes it between his teeth. “I want to take my time with you, baby.”

I puff out an exhale, my hips circling, trying to create more friction. I try to remember what he said, but when his mouth meets mine, his tongue gliding along the seam of my lips, I open up to him and forget everything else.

He kisses me as if he’s been waiting for this moment, fantasizing about it, and within seconds, I’m removing his shirt and he’s lifting my dress off of me, and then I’m on my back in the middle of his bed with him between my legs. His erectionpresses against my core, moving in ways that bring me close to the edge, over and over.

He holds both my wrists above my head with one hand, while the other brings my thigh up and around him, giving him better access. Our kisses are wet, all tongue, filthy, and so perfect, I can’t handle it. He pulls back from the kiss, and I moan in protest as he moves down my neck to my chest. My blood simmers, heating every inch of me. He releases my hands so he can move lower down my body, kissing my stomach, then making his way back up again until he gets to my bra. He tugs down the fabric, his tongue burning hot when he flicks my bare nipple for the first time. I thrust my hips up, searching for more, and he sucks my nipple into his mouth, then bites gently, before moving to the other. I whisper his name, stare up at the ceiling. But the world is a blur, and all I see are stars. So many of them. For minutes, he just stays there moving from one to the other, while whispering words of appreciation in between. He tells me that I’m perfect, that I’m beautiful, that he’s never wanted anything more than he’s wantedme. And then, slowly, he makes his way down, down, down. He doesn’t remove my underwear like I thought he would. Instead, he settles his head between my thighs, and he kisses me—over the fabric. He licks me, tasting the liquid pleasure he’s created. I close my eyes, try to focus on the pure bliss he’s giving. He tugs on the sides of my underwear, pulling the fabric taut against me. The white cotton sticks to my soaked flesh, revealing my slit. “Such a perfect fucking pussy,” he moans, and I look down at him, almost lose it at the sight of him. He glances up, his eyes half-hooded. “You ever touch yourself, baby?”

I nod, breathless, flames of wanton need blazing inside me.

“Show me,” he says, almostdemands.

“Rhys,” I whisper.Plead. I don’t want to play these games. I just want him to touch me. Skin-on-skin. I want him on me. Around me. Inside me.

“Show me,” he repeats, and I lower my hand, reach beneath my underwear, until the tips of my fingers touch my clit. I’m gentle with my movements, careful not to send myself over the edge. I want him to be the one to take me there. I circle my nub, slowly, and he watches intently, focused.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, and then his mouth comes down. He kisses, open mouth, over my fingers and just beneath them, sucking on the cotton as if thirsty for every drop of my pleasure.

“Rhys!” I cry.

“Soon, baby,” he murmurs, and then he pulls my panties to the side, licks my fingers clean, before removing my hand completely. His tongue replaces my finger, and I lose it. My eyes shut tight, and I almost cry at the intensity of the pleasure he creates with just his tongue alone. I peel one eye open so I can watch him, and it’s almost as if he was waiting for me to look at him. Because he’s been watching me. Anticipating. And then he slides a finger inside me. Again and again. And I’m done. Pleasure crashes through me, momentarily flashing white in and all around me, and Iscreamout my release, my thighs shaking, and he grabs them, his fingers digging deep to keep meright there. Wave after wave after wave, and he never lets up, never takes his mouth off me until my release consumes every part of me.

Unable to grasp a full breath, I force his head away with my hands. “Enough,” I huff. “I can’t take anymore.”

He kneels up, freeing his erection from his boxer shorts, and I lick my lips. God, I can’t wait to wrap my mouth?—

“Later,” he says, reading my mind. He reaches into his side table and pulls out a condom. Then he kisses my cheeks. One, then the other. “You okay with this?”

“Please,” I beg.

“I need you to say it, Cheeks,” he murmurs against my neck while slipping the condom over him.

I don’t say it. Instead, I wait until the condom’s all the way on, and then I reach for his cock, ignoring the way my body tingles at the feel of him in my hand, and bring him to my wet center…

---