His lips.
So warm against my own. Arms around each other, we stood there. His hands on my back and hips, mine around his neck. "Please," He whispered into my mouth. "Please, please let this be real."
"It's real, it's real it's real it's real." I murmured, my hand sliding into his black hair.
We were pressed together, so, so close. Standing there, surrounded by the cottage, the music just trickling away to reveal fiery quiet, begging for him and me to fill it in. We watched each other with tender eyes.
His warm, calloused hands rested on my slender hips, and my arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him close. I felt every shift of him, every beat of his wild, untamed heart. I felt him shift his hands in slow motion, felt him bend down. Felt him sweep me off my feet, carrying me bridal-style. I gasped.
"Rhys, please-" He silenced me with a deep, open-mouthed kiss. A groan, deep and primal, rumbled from deep in his throat. He was always so, so warm.
Mine.
We were in my room is seconds- or minutes, time flew by- and he was lying me down on the plush, crisp covers. "You're mine," He growled. His hands groped my sides, and mine slid across his back. I groaned in pleasure, arching against his chest.
Our tongues did a love battle, and eventually, I let him win. He explored the new area with a deep, fiery hunger. I reached for his shorts and started to tug them off, free the warm, thick length of him from its first layer. He strained against his bonds.
Rhys slipped off my black sports bra, exposing me to the chilled night. He tore his lips away from mine to look. He kissed my neck, grinding his hips into me, teasing. I clawed at his back.
"So impatient, Feyre," He breathed on my neck, and I whined. I dragged down his cotton undershorts, freeing his length completely, and he pushed into my palm. I moaned as he nipped at my collarbone.
He hooked his long, clever fingers in my pants, and pushed his knee up in between my legs. I ground myself against him, realizing how long I'd been wanting this- too long to remember. I'd loved Rhys for too long to remember.
I writhed on his knee.
His hand ran up and down my body, slowing when it reached my adobnemin, stroking lightly in between my legs and then pushing.
I cried out in pleasure, and the sound enveloped by his delicious mouth. There were definitely marks on his sun-kissed back. "Rhys," I barked out.
"You like that, Feyre?" He laughed. I reached in between us to do what I knew would drive him crazy. Grabbing the thick, long length of him, I squeezed. He bit my shoulder, drawing blood. Marking me. Claiming me.
He took my hands roughly, pinning them above my head and drawing in for a fierce kiss. He went very slowly.
His broad head pushed into my entrance, and fire enveloped my body
Pure ecstasy. He stilled, letting me get used to his large length as he shook with restraint. I looked into his purple eyes, and kissed him. I pulled him closer. "You're mine," I snarled, and he shuddered, drawing out and pushing in. Slow, so very slow.
"Say it again," He sighed.
"You're mine." Out, in. Faster this time.
"You're mine." Out in.
"You're mine." We settled into a quick rhythm, where each pound of us was those words in our own language. He felt so, so good as he thrusted inside, his broad head hitting that spot that made me call out his name is a breathless scream. I was not afraid of that cliff he was bringing me to. He had caught me when I fell before.
We would catch each other.
He jumped off with a roar, me with a scream of his name. Rhys buried himself into me to the hilt, and he pulsed inside me as my walls clenched around him. His seed spilled into me, hot and pure.
He flipped me over in one quick movement. Oh, Gods, he was still long and thick. I moaned as he pushed all the way inside, pushing in and out faster than I thought possible.
One and
Two and
Three and
Four.