In the Firelight (20 page)

Rhys looked over at Michelle. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help, and instead I think I pissed her off even more.”

“She’ll forgive me.” Michelle smiled sadly. “She’s always had a little bit of a temper, especially when it’s something she’s sensitive about. I maybe shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I don’t want to see her get hurt. That said, you better go get her. She’s headed outside without her shoes on, and she’s probably just pissed enough to not care. Her hot temper won’t protect her feet.”

“You don’t think she’d actually go outside without putting them back on, do you?”

Michelle shrugged. “Depends on how pissed she is.”

Rhys stood and headed for the entryway to the library, relieved to see her standing, with her shoes in her hand, just inside looking out the glass doors at the heavy flakes of snow scattering through the night air.

“So, were you going to walk home, or what?” Rhys asked, and she turned to look at him.

Yeah, still pissed…

“You can go,” Shea grumbled. “I’ll figure something out. I don’t like the idea of you driving me all the way home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Slip on your shoes, and I’ll give you a ride.”

Shea scoffed and looked back up at him, making no move to put her shoes on. “Don’t forget how we met. I’d never sleep wondering if you made it back to town or if you were stuck in a ditch somewhere.”

“You’d worry?” he said with a teasing smile.

She just turned to look back outside with a huff.

“Okay, then. I’ll take you back to my cabin.”

“No, I’m fine,” she said with a crisp voice.

“Shea—”

“Dammit, Rhys! Don’t. Don’t get all worried and shit. I don’t want this to be some feely thing. I don’t want—” She abruptly stopped talking and turned away. “Just go, okay?”

“I’ll go,” he ground out, “but you’re coming with me.”

Bending at the waist, Rhys quickly grabbed her, tossing her over his shoulder with a swat on her ass. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d do after he carried her off cave-man style to his truck, but he wasn’t going to stand there and argue with her like this.

“Put me down!” Shea struggled against him, and she was surprisingly strong for such a little thing. He grabbed their coats and strode through the door towards his rental truck. The whole way out, Shea squirmed and rocked against him, her breasts pressed against his back. One of his arms hooked around her legs to keep them tight against him and prevent her from kicking too much. His other hand settled on her luscious ass the whole way out. Once they reached his truck, he had to lessen confining grip to open the passenger door, and she finally managed to slide down his body to the ground, barefoot in the snow.

And, by God, she was so angry she didn’t seem to care.

He opened the passenger door, but Shea didn’t budge, firmly pressing against the side of the truck.

“Get in…” he ground through clenched teeth.

“No!” she spat back at him.

“Shea, dammit, your feet are going to freeze. You’re going to get fucking frostbite! Now… GET. IN. THE. TRUCK!”

“On one condition,” she fumed back at him, shaking with cold and anger, “you take me home! Now! You take me home and you leave me there. I don’t want to be with you right now. I’m pissed. I’m pissed at Michelle, and I’m pissed at you.”

“Fine,” Rhys huffed with an exasperated laugh. “Besides, you’re always pissed at me.”

Shea leapt into the truck, rubbing her feet to alleviate the painful bite of the snow. Rhys climbed in the driver seat and cranked the heat on high. Before she could change her mind, he backed out of his parking space and started out on the road… towards his rental cabin.

The opposite direction from Shea’s house.

Shea signed in frustration. “Rhys, you’re going the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes! Yes, you are. I live that way!” Shea seethed, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. “You said you would take me home.”

Rhys looked over at her with a naughty grin. “I lied, sweetheart. Completely and totally. You are all fired up and hot as fucking hell. There’s no way I’m just going to drop you off and leave right now. Your ass is mine.”

Chapter 15 ~ The Surrender

Shea’s body quivered at the rough promise in his eyes.
Oh my…
  She angrily
turned to stare out the window into the dark winter night as he drove to the edge of town to his cabin.

He parked in front and looked over at her, a feral light still prevalent in his gaze. He exuded a dangerous arousal, wild and angry. As much as Shea didn’t want to respond, her traitorous body heated under his perusal and she felt a deep ache burn inside her.

“Do I have to wrestle you out of the truck, sweetheart? Or are you going to come willingly?” he asked with a quiet potency in his voice.

Shea closed her eyes, willing away the passion that burned through her. She didn’t answer, instead taking deep calming breaths.

Rhys stepped out into the cold winter air and crossed to the passenger side of the truck. As he opened it, Shea turned her head away angrily.

“Gotcha, we’ll do it this way,” he muttered, and he pulled her from the pickup, carrying her into the cabin and kicking the door shut behind him. Rhys tossed her on the bed and she scooted back up against the headboard, watching him closely as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and slowly unbuckled his belt. After pulling it free from his belt loops, he laid it on the bed and reached for Shea’s ankles. With a heavy tug, he pulled her straight towards him, her skirt riding up to almost uncover her panty-less body from the waist down. Shea’s hands reached for the rough-hewn pine headboard, grasping it firmly to prevent him from pulling her all the way to him.

With a wicked smile, Rhys straddled her torso, using his weight to hold her down as he reached for the belt. With one large, strong hand, he held her wrists and wrapped the belt around them with the other, slipping it through the rough log frame of the headboard before finally buckling it tight.

"Makes you crazy, doesn't it? This lack of control. You don't always have to run the show, Shea. You might like letting someone else take the reins. Just let go, sweetheart"

"I can't," she weakly keened, pulling at the restraint holding her tightly to the bed.

"You can... You just have to free yourself."

“God-dammit, Rhys!” Shea breathed out heavily.

With her hands firmly bound to the bed and his body trapping hers, his own hands slid down her arms to her shoulders and down across her breasts. Shea moaned as he bent down to lave his tongue along her collar bone, finishing with a little nip. His hips slid back slightly, enough to tug her skirt up around her waist, and the cool air hit her moist heat like a shot of lightning.

“Mmm… I like this no underwear look, sweetheart.”

Shea shuddered at the sexy tone of his voice, ripe with promise. His finger swept through her wet folds, up along her clit where he circled it firmly. His hands then continued to push up her dress, over her stomach, slowly scraping it over her tender breasts, finally lifting it over her head and tucking it into the belt that held her captive. Shea felt like she was going to die by the time he was done.

With her eyes tightly shut, Shea waited breathlessly for his touch. It was sheer torture, being pinned down like this, unable to move her arms. Every squirming movement of her body only seemed to increase the burn deep within her. It was like he was punishing her for making him crave her so much.

“Oh God… touch me, Rhys.” Shea writhed below him, feeling his eyes rake across her.

Finally, a single finger traced along her body from her shoulder, pausing to circle the tight bud of her nipple, then down to her hip. Then again, another finger joining the first, followed by his fingers on the other hand, and he lightly caressed her skin leaving a burning trail that made her tremble. His hands skated along her stomach to the apex of her thighs.

Shea opened her eyes to look at him as he watched her body undulate with his touch. His eyes followed his fingers as they slowly moved back up to her aching breasts, and he bent down to take a hard nipple in his mouth.

“Fuck, Rhys,” Shea moaned. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Rhys stopped, frozen in his tracks, and Shea gave an agonized cry.

“You’re not in control right now, Shea,” Rhys murmured as he ran his finger down from her neck, along the center of her breasts, trailing again down to her soft, damp depth, dipping inside to swirl through her wetness. He nudged his knee to part her thighs and he settled between them, spreading them wide until the cool air of the room touched her sensitive heat. “But I’ll give you one little choice, baby—your pussy or your ass?”

“Rhys, please…” she sobbed with a broken cry.

“What will it be, sweetheart? I think you want me in your ass, don’t you?” He pulled up at her knees, tilting her pelvis higher, and his finger traced down along the cleft of her backside.

She burned for him, her body wracked with flashes of sensation. Her body craved his touch…
everywhere. Even there.

After the sensation she’d experienced in the dressing room today, especially there.

“Shea,” he cradled her face firmly in his hands. She could smell the scent of her on his hands, so strong and erotic. “Your pussy or your ass?”

Shea felt tears slip from her eyes with the force of her shameless need. Finally, as he lowered his lips back down to hers.

“Which one, baby?” he softly breathed into her.

She whispered back, “My ass…”

In a fluid motion, Rhys quickly flipped her over weightlessly, plunging his fingers deep inside her soaked sex and spreading the wetness up through the cleft of her backside. And then his finger slipped inside the tight little pucker of her ass. She cried out against the bedding at the unfamiliar intrusion, moaning with the feel of his finger swirling around inside her.

As he played with her tight, pink bud with one hand, he tugged her hips up with the other. His knees forced her legs apart as he aligned his cock with her aching pussy. “Gotta get it good and wet,” he growled and roughly thrust into her hot and wet core, causing Shea to cry out in sheer bliss. “And you’re so damn wet. Soaked… all the way down your soft, silky thighs.”

“Fuck,” Shea moaned as he pumped into her a few time, still fingering her tight rear entrance, drawing the moisture upwards from her drenched sex.

“I can’t fucking wait… Such a sweet, sexy ass, baby…” Shea’s hips tilted, helping to line him up with the tightness of her back entrance, and then he was stretching her, slowly pushing inside. It was just ever-so-slightly-painful, but such a marvelous pain as she took him all. She whimpered as he started to withdraw, but then he filled her again and a deep throaty cry erupted from her throat. Out and in, out and in, starting slowly and quickening his pace.

Rhys straightened and rose up on his knees, his cock pulling her impaled body up with him as one hand lifted her, pushing at her sensitive mound. It was incredible, his pounding force, punishing her with pleasure in what was, before him, a completely untouched part of her. She was mindless, feeling as though she was floating… coursing through the air like lightning.

Every nerve fiber in her body was focused on the exquisite sensations of his hot, thick, pounding length. Her wrists were still bound to the bedframe. Her face was buried in the thick blankets of the bed, and his fingers dipped to her clit and circled, causing her to detonate around him. Shea screamed into the bed below her, convulsing with astounding force as he continued to fuck her ass. With a loud groan, Rhys pulled out as he began to come, shooting spurts of semen across her buttocks and lower back.

Shea lay there trembling with her ass in the air as she felt his fingers trace through the warm liquid he spilled onto her skin. As he touched the wetness and spread it out on her flesh, she could feel it cool, and a shiver coursed through her.

“God, that’s fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he groaned.

After a few moments, Rhys reached above her, loosening the belt that bound her wrists. He pulled her hands free of the tangle of leather and fabric. Rubbing the sensitive, almost raw skin where the belt had chafed against her, he pulled her to lay prone on the bed, her head listlessly lying on the pillow. He left for a moment, going into the bathroom to clean up, and came back out with a warm, damp towel that he used to wipe her clean. The heat of the towel left, and her dewy skin was chilled until he curled up tightly against her, tugging the blankets over the top of them.

And, without another second of thought, she fell into an exhausted sleep.