Mature Content Warning: This section contains a scene of explicit sexual activity. Reader discretion is advised.
Rhys could only nod, his throat too tight to form words. His pulse roared in his ears as he watched, mesmerized, as Heather's fingers deftly worked at the zipper of his trousers.
The rasp of the zipper parting was obscenely loud in the quiet room, each metallic click a promise, a taunt. His cock twitched beneath the confinement of his briefs, already straining for her touch.
Heather paused once the zipper was lowered, her gaze lifting to meet his once more. There was a wicked glint in her eyes, a silent challenge. She knew—knew exactly what she was doing to him. Knew how effortlessly she could unravel him.
She didn't rush.
Instead, she dragged her palms up his thighs, the heat of her touch searing through the fabric. Her fingers traced the outline of his erection, teasing, before pressing flat against his lower abdomen. The muscles there jumped beneath her touch, his breath hitching.
"You know," she murmured, her voice a low, husky tremor that resonated deep within him, "for someone so busy, you're certainly making the most of this… downtime."
A weak chuckle escaped Rhys's lips. "Only because the company is exquisite," he managed, his eyes never leaving hers.
Heather's smile softened, a genuine warmth replacing the playful tease. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a fleeting touch that promised more. "And you, my busy idol, are certainly appreciated."
With a final, deliberate movement, she slid her hands beneath the waistband of his trousers, gently pushing them down over his hips. Rhys lifted slightly, allowing her to ease the fabric further. The denim pooled around his ankles, a discarded barrier between them.
Heather's gaze lingered on him, a slow, appreciative sweep that made his skin prickle with anticipation. The dim light of the late afternoon painted her features in soft shadows, highlighting the desire that burned in her eyes.
"Now," she said, her voice a soft invitation as she reached for the hem of his briefs, "let's see if those claims hold up, shall we?"
Her touch was tentative at first, then grew bolder as she began to lower the last layer, her eyes locked on his. The final barrier was about to fall, and the air thrummed with the unspoken anticipation of what lay beyond.
Rhys took a deep breath, his muscles tensing in anticipation. Every nerve in his body was alight as her fingers brushed against his skin—electric, intoxicating.
The last barrier fell away, and a soft gasp escaped her lips as she took in the sight before her.
No matter how many times we've done it already, it still amazes me how big he is.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as her gaze traveled over him, a slow, appreciative exploration that made his skin prickle with a mixture of desire and vulnerability.
She leaned closer, her hands framing his face, her thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones.
"You are beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with a reverence that touched him deeply.
Rhys reached up, his fingers intertwining with hers, holding her gaze captive. "And you, my love, are breathtaking," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He pulled her closer, the small space between them vanishing as their bodies finally met.
The contact was electric, a jolt of pure sensation that sent shivers down his spine. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him, wanting to lose himself in her embrace.
Their lips crashed together in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a melding of souls that transcended mere physical desire.
Heather finally broke the kiss, gasping for air as their lips parted. Her fingers trailed down Rhys's sculpted chest, nails lightly grazing his skin before wrapping around his hardened length.
"My, oh my," Heather purred. Her voice dripping with sinful amusement. "Is this the impressive thing you were bragging about earlier?" She gave him a slow, deliberate stroke, relishing the way his cock twitched in response.
Without another word, she slipped off the bed and sank to her knees, her gaze locked onto him, like a predator admiring its prey. "Let's take a closer look, shall we?"
Her touch was maddening—light at first, just the barest stroke of her thumb over the swollen head, smearing the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. Then firmer, her grip tightening just enough to make his hips jerk.
Rhys hissed through his teeth, "Heather—"
She smirked, her thumb circling the sensitive ridge before giving him one long, tortuous pull.
The sight alone was enough to make his blood roar—Heather on her knees before him,her lips parted, her gaze locked onto his cock like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Her tongue flicked out, a teasing swipe from base to tip, and Rhys nearly came apart right then.
"Christ—" His hand fisted in her hair, not forcing, just holding, as she took him deeper, her mouth hot and wet and perfect. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard, and his vision whited out for a second.
Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she took him to the hilt, her throat fluttering around him. The sensation was obscene, overwhelming—every nerve in his body lit up like a live wire.
When she pulled back with a wet pop, her lips were swollen, her breath ragged. "Mmhm," she hummed, stroking him lazily. "I must say... this is very impressive."
Rhys didn't give her time to gloat.
In one swift motion, he hauled her up, crashing their mouths together in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and desperate hunger. His hand roamed her body—gripping her waist, palming her ass, dragging her flush against him until she could feel every hard inch of him.
"Now," he murmured against her lips, his voice rough with desire. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, tugging playfully before releasing her. "let's try something else."
He didn't give her time to respond. In one smooth motion, he laid back, pulling Heather with him until she was straddling his hips, her warmth pressing against him.
"Take it off."
Rhys's command sent a shiver down her spine. With calculated slowness, she peeled off her dress, then her red lace bra. The matching G-string followed, tossed aside with a flick of her wrist. His gaze burned over her bare skin, lingering on the places her lace had just covered.
His hands slid up her thighs, fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath the curve of her ass.
"Turn around," he ordered, his voice rough.
A shiver run down her spine, but she obeyed, shifting her body until she faced the opposite way, her thighs trembling as she straddled his face. The heat of his breath against her already slick folds made her gasp, her nails digging into his muscular thighs for balance.
Rhys didn't tease.
He devoured her.
His tongue speared into her, deep and filthy, before flicking over her clit in ruthless, rhythmic strokes. Heather gasped, her nails digging into his thighs as pleasure coiled tight in her core.
"Make me come, Rhys," she challeged, rolling her hips against his tongue, already chasing her release. "Do it right..." Her breath hitched as his tongue flicked over her clit, sending sparks through her veins "...and maybe I'll return the favor."
A low, approving growl vibrated against her, and then he doubled down, his tongue worked her with relentless precision—broad strokes, teasing flicks, then sucking and nipping her clit just hard enough to make her thighs shake. Every movement was calculated, driving her higher until she was writhing above him, her moans growing desperate.
"Fuck—Rhys, yes—" Her words dissolved into a cry as the tension snapped, pleasure crashing through her in waves. She ground his mouth, riding out her orgasm as his tongue coaxed every last shudder from her body.
When he finally collapsed forward, her chest heaving, she found Rhys's cock right there, thick and leaking and begging for attention.
Heather smirked, still panting, and reached forward, her fingers wrapping around him in a slow, teasing stroke. "Someone's eager," she murmured, twisting her wrist just the way she knew he liked.
Rhys groaned, his hips jerking into her touch.
She didn't make him wait, she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head before sinking deeper. Rhys cursed, his fingers digging into her thighs.
"Heather—" His voice was raw, warning and plea all at once.
She sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks, and that was all it took. With a ragged groan, Rhys came, his release spilling hot against her tongue as she drank him down, not stopping until he was shuddering beneath her.
When she finally pulled away, licking her lips with deliberate slowness, Rhys dragged her into a searing kiss, his hands gripping her hips possessively.
Then, to her surprise, she felt him hardening again beneath her.
She pulled back, a smirk playing on her lips, "Ready for another round this soon?"
Rhys grinned, all wicked promise. "Well, I can't neglect your other lips now, could I?" He jerked his hips, his cock nudging against her dripping entrance.
Heather moaned, sinking onto him in one slow, delicious slide "Fuck—yes—".
Rhys watched, mesmerized, as her body took him in, inch by inch, her tight heat enveloping him perfectly. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as she rode him, her nails scraping down his chest.
"Harder," she demamded, her voice breaking.
Rhys obliged, thrusting up into her with bruising force, each snap of his hips driving her closer to the edge. Sweat slicked their skin, their breaths mingling in ragged gasps.
Heather came first, her inner walls clamping around him as she cried out his name. Rhys followed moments later, his release spilling deep inside her as he held her close, their bodies still joined.