Rhys trembled and panted while he finger fucked himself, the muscles in his strong thighs moving sinuously as he started jacking his hips up and down, his stiff cock bobbing in a matching cadence.
He rode his hand for a full minute before slipping his fingers out of his slick opening, sweat beading his face and chest, his lips swollen where he’d chewed them.
Wade’s chest heaved, his breathing accelerating with his growing arousal. He gripped the ties binding him when Rhys reached for the dildo and rose up on his heels to line the thick head with his hole.
They had indulged in plenty of titillating play in the month they’d been seeing each other but this, this right here, was going to go down in the annals of their history as one of the single most electrifying sexual act Rhys had ever performed for him.
As if sensing Wade’s thoughts, Rhys moaned his name in a sultry voice that sent a shiver of pure need down Wade’s spine.
“Wade.”
Then Rhys slowly impaled himself on the dildo, his head dropping backward and his entire body stiffening as he stuffed himself with the thick love stick in a single, languid thrust.
Wade gnashed his teeth as he watched Rhys rise up off the dildo before going down on it again, the folds of his passage stretched wide and dragging the rim of tight muscles guarding his opening along the slick, latex surface.
Rhys’s lips parted on increasingly savage cries and moans as he fucked himself with his favorite toy, his wrist twisting and angling the stout shaft to hit his prostate as he drove it harder and faster inside himself, his toes curling in the bedsheets.
In that moment, Wade thought he had never seen anything as erotic as Rhys pleasuring himself in such a disinhibited and decadent fashion.
That’s it!
Wade growled, stretched his body to the right, and maneuvered the loop of the tie holding his wrist captive up and off the bed post. He freed his left hand in the next second, rose to his knees on the bed, and pushed Rhys down on the mattress in front of him.
Rhys gasped as he landed on his back, the crook of his knees finding Wade’s hips. The fire in Wade’s slate-blue eyes threatened to burn Rhys alive as he towered over him, Wade’s left hand heavy where he pressed down on Rhys’s trembling abdomen.
Rhys whimpered when Wade wrapped his right hand on his fingers on the handle of the dildo. Wade stared into Rhys’s feverish gaze, yanked the love stick out, and shoved it back inside Rhys’s body to the hilt.
Rhys cried out and let go of the toy, his fingers finding the top of Wade’s thighs. Tortured moans and gasps ripped out of him as Wade took control of the dildo and drove it repeatedly in and out of his tingling, sensitive passage.
“Fuck!” Wade snarled, working Rhys’s hole harder and faster with the sex toy and nudging his prostate over and over again with the broad head.
Rhys bit down hard on his lower lip as intense pleasure sent flashes of light pulsing across his vision.
Electricity shot up Rhys’s spine as the first wave of his climax spiraled through him. A band of pressure built up deep inside his lower belly, tightening his balls and making his passage spasm around the thick dildo. Rhys’s eyes widened, his pulse skittering at the shocking, intense sensation.
A guttural shout tore out of Rhys when his orgasm slammed into him with the force of a hurricane. His mind went white as he arched his head back into the mattress and stared blindly at the ceiling. A buzzing sound filled his ears while fierce waves of ecstasy started throbbing through him. Rhys grasped Wade’s thighs in a punishing grip as his legs straightened out stiffly on either side of Wade’s hips. His breath locked in his throat. He bowed his spine off the bed and curled his toes in the air, his body drowning in the most earth-shattering pleasure.
Rhys realized dimly he must have blanked out a little at some point as the next thing he knew, Wade had replaced the dildo with his hot cock and was pounding Rhys’s ass with savage grunts, his face contorted in a fierce snarl. Rhys shivered and surrendered his limp, pliant body to Wade while the latter hooked his hands under Rhys’s knees and pushed Rhys’s legs up in the air. It didn’t take long for Rhys’s spent cock to stir against his belly and swell with fresh arousal at the forceful way Wade was taking him.
Wade cursed when his gaze dropped to Rhys’s erection. He pressed Rhys’s legs higher and bowed his head and body, his hips still thrusting his cock deep and hard inside Rhys, his movements untamed.
Rhys nearly screamed when Wade wrapped his lips and tongue around the head of his dick and sucked him once, then twice.
An animal sound left Wade, as if the taste of Rhys was his final undoing.
The bed rocked as Wade accelerated the pace of his rolling hips and fucked Rhys to within an inch of his life. White noise filled Rhys’s world when they found their release together, Rhys’s cock jerking his hot cum all over his chest and neck while Wade poured his own seed deep inside Rhys’s body, making a sticky mess of the both of them.
Chapter 21
“Fancy going to Saron for a drink?” Rhys said, leaning against the doorframe of Wade’s office.
It was the end of the week leading up to Christmas. Most of the staff had left early for the long holiday weekend.
Wade rubbed a hand across the back of his head and flashed a tired smile at Rhys. “I wish I could, but something’s come up. A prospective client called and wants to meet. She’s only in town for one night.”
Rhys arched an eyebrow, curious. “Anyone I know?”
Wade leaned back in his chair. “You’ve probably heard of her. Lana Keele, the president of Keele Industries?”
The name Keele was one Rhys was familiar with. A conglomerate that used to feature regularly in the Forbes’s top one hundred list of companies, it had been in steady decline until a sudden revival five years ago, when Lana Keele, the only child of the company’s founder George Keele, finally took over the family business.
“You’ll have to tell me how it goes,” Rhys murmured.
Wade dipped his chin. “I’ll come over to yours after.” He hesitated. “You still going to Saron?”
“Uh-huh,” Rhys said. He smiled at Wade’s scowl. “What, you don’t trust me?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” Wade grumbled. “It’s the sharks circling around you every time we go there that I’m worried about.”
Rhys laughed and pushed off the doorway. “I’ll see you back at my place,” he said over his shoulder as he headed to his office.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Wade called out.
Two hours and one Scotch later, and Rhys was ready to leave the club.
“You going already?” Joe said from the other side of the counter as Rhys slipped off the barstool.
Rhys smiled. “Yup. Got a hot date.”
He’d texted Wade a while back to tell him he was making his way to the apartment and had received a reply from Wade that he wouldn’t be long.
Ethan grinned at Rhys, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.
“What?” Rhys said suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Ethan said. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you this happy before. It suits you better than the prissy look you normally wear.”
Rhys stuck his middle finger up at Ethan.
“And now the asshole is back,” Ethan groaned while Joe chuckled.
Rhys was almost at the entrance when Michael walked through the doors. They froze and stared at each other awkwardly for a moment.
“Umm, hi,” Rhys murmured, a spasm of guilt shooting through him as he recalled their last conversation.
Michael let out a sigh. “Seriously, stop looking at me as if you expect me to punch you.”
“Sorry,” Rhys mumbled. He couldn’t see any trace of accusation in Michael’s eyes, something he was grateful for.
“You going already?” Michael said, watching Rhys take his coat off the attendant. He looked past Rhys, his gaze roaming the dim interior of the club.
“Wade isn’t with me, if that’s w
ho you’re looking for,” Rhys said drily.
Michael inhaled sharply. “He—he dumped you already?!”
Rhys narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to choose to ignore that comment. No, he had a business meeting. And yes, before you ask, we’re still seeing each other.”
“Oh,” Michael grunted. He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, you can’t blame a man for hoping.”
Remorse stabbed through Rhys once more. “I—I’m—”
“Don’t,” Michael said gruffly. “Don’t apologize. I can see in your eyes when you talk about him how happy you are.”
Rhys blinked, startled. “You’re the second person who’s said that tonight. Is it that obvious?”
Michael smiled ruefully. “Only to those who know you well.” He glanced toward the interior of the club and hesitated. “Mind if I walk you out?”
Rhys smiled faintly. “Sure. If you promise to be a gentleman and leave my virtue intact.”
Michael chuckled. “I solemnly swear not to lose control of my manly urges and paw you.”
Rhys laughed as they headed out of the club. They chatted amiably while they walked toward the main Shinjuku strip.
“Well, this is my stop,” Rhys said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat as they slowed by a taxi stand.
“It was good to see you again,” Michael murmured. “Seriously, you look great. And I say that as a friend.”
“Thanks,” Rhys said gratefully. “Maybe one day, we could go for a drink, you, me, and Wade?”
Michael grunted, his gaze shifting past Rhys. “I honestly don’t think that’s such a great—” He froze, his eyes widening as he stared at something.
“Michael?” Rhys said, puzzled. He twisted on his heels and followed Michael’s gaze to the other side of a busy intersection.
A bus trundled past just then, obscuring Rhys’s view of whatever it was that had captured Michael’s attention. “What is it?” he murmured, glancing at Michael.
Michael startled and looked at Rhys, his expression pained. “Shit. Rhys, I—”
The bus disappeared down the noisy strip and Rhys got his first view of what had transfixed Michael.
Wade and a brunette in a green cocktail dress stood on the steps of an exclusive restaurant. The woman had her back to the road and was clutching Wade’s broad shoulders while Wade leaned down, one hand on the woman’s waist while the other touched her face. He said something with a smile. From the way the woman’s shoulders shook, she’d laughed at whatever it was Wade had murmured to her.
Rhys was dimly aware that Michael was calling his name and talking to him. He felt Michael’s hand land on his shoulder and wondered vaguely why his touch felt so fuzzy. His next thought was that it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
In that moment, Rhys felt his entire world spin to a stop before slowly crumbling around him. It wasn’t until his vision blurred that he realized he was crying.
Rhys continued staring at the indistinct figures across the street for a timeless moment. A gasp left his lips when someone grabbed his shoulders and twisted him around forcefully.
Rhys blinked and looked up into Michael’s anxious face, the lawyer’s voice finally penetrating the heavy fog paralyzing his senses.
“Rhys, get a grip of yourself!” Michael barked. He glanced across the street, anger flashing in his eyes. “He—”
“Take me,” Rhys whispered between numb lips. “Take me somewhere.”
“What?” Michael blinked, confusion washing across his face. “Do you want me to bring you back to your—”
“No! Not—not there. He—,” Rhys closed his eyes and swallowed the hard lump in his throat, “—he said he was coming over after.”
Michael studied Rhys for a moment before gently taking him in his arms. “Hush,” he murmured in Rhys’s hair while Rhys’s tears soaked his shirt. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Rhys closed his eyes and fisted his hands in Michael’s coat, knowing the lawyer’s words were a lie.
He would never be alright. Not for as long as he lived.
Chapter 22
“Seriously, I’m so sorry,” Lana Keele said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She blinked and touched her left eye where Wade had just slipped her contact lens back in.
Wade smiled, his hand dropping from Lana’s waist. “I hope you don’t take offense, but you’re nothing like what I imagined you would be.”
Lana’s face fell so comically that Wade couldn’t help chuckling.
The restaurant door opened and closed behind Wade. Someone paused on the top step and sighed. It was a long suffering sound, as if the person who’d made it did so on a daily basis. Wade looked over his shoulder and met the sardonic stare of Tom Sutherland, Lana’s secretary-cum-assistant-cum-personal slave.
“What happened?” the dark-eyed man drawled. He was holding their coats in his arms. “Did she jump you?”
Wade didn’t miss the faint undertone of jealousy that underscored Sutherland’s voice. He’d seen the way Lana’s secretary had sometimes looked at her while they were having dinner and discussing the business proposition they’d approached Wade with. From Lana’s demeanor, it was clear she was blissfully unaware that Sutherland was in love with her, and in a bad way at that.
“Hey, I’m standing right here!” Lana snapped, her green eyes full of indignation. “It’s those darn new contacts. One of them fell out and Wade was helping me put it back in!”
“I told you you should stick to specs,” Tom said. “They make you look more business-like and less—,” his gaze roamed Lana’s body from the top of her artfully made hair, all the way down to her expensive high heels, “—femme fatale. Besides, you should accept the fact that you’re growing old gracefully. Myopia isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”
Wade bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter threatening to burst out of him as Lana opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, too shocked for words. He’d rarely seen two people more suited for one another than this pair and he hoped Lana realized it and soon, before Tom’s rigid self-control snapped.
“You asshole!” Lana hissed.
“Right back at you, sweetheart,” Tom retorted. He handed Wade his coat, shrugged into his own jacket, and walked down the steps to drop Lana’s overcoat around her shoulders. “Now, let’s get out of here and let this poor man go back to his lover.” He grabbed Lana’s hand and started guiding her along the curb. “Goodnight, Mr. Tucker. I’ll be in touch soon to finalize the contract.”
“Bye, Wade,” Lana grumbled over her shoulder. “Hey, what makes you think he has a lover?” she hissed at Tom as they walked off into the night.
“Because you flirted with him for the first five minutes of our meeting and he didn’t bat an eyelid,” Tom replied. “On the other hand, this could also mean you’re losing your touch. Maybe we need to work on your sex appeal.”
Wade grinned and shook his head as he watched the pair continue to bicker while they disappeared among the busy evening crowd. He could tell he was going to like working with them.
Rhys is gonna laugh when I tell him about tonight.
With that thought in mind, Wade crossed the road and got inside a waiting cab, suddenly impatient to see his lover.
Rhys’s apartment was dark when Wade entered it twenty minutes later.
He frowned, puzzled. Maybe he’s in bed already. A wry grimace curved Wade’s lips in the next instant. Well, we have fucked every single day this week, so he’s probably exhausted. I should try and abstain tonight.
The first thread of unease unfolded inside Wade when he reached Rhys’s room and saw the empty bed.
“Rhys?” Wade called out, his gaze shifting to the en suite bathroom.
It was just as empty and dark as the rest of the apartment.
Wade slipped his cell out of his pocket and checked his messages. Almost an hour had passed since Rhys had texted to say he was leaving Saron.
Whe
re is he?
Wade headed back into the lounge, poured himself a drink from the bar, and sat on the suede couch where he’d first given Rhys a hand job. Although he told himself he was being paranoid and that there were a dozen possible explanations for why Rhys could be late, Wade couldn’t help his growing apprehension. Something felt off. He couldn’t put a finger on why he thought that but he just sensed it, deep in the most primitive part of his mind.
By the time dawn peeked pale fingers above the horizon, Wade was close to losing his mind. Rhys hadn’t come home, nor had he replied to any of Wade’s messages and calls. Wade paced Rhys’s lounge for the umpteenth time while he considered his options. He’d already checked the local news for accidents and rang all the hospitals in the area to see if someone fitting Rhys’s description had been brought in as a patient. Although he was sorely tempted to call the cops, Wade knew they wouldn’t be interested until Rhys had been missing for over twenty-four hours.
He was wearing a thin thread in Rhys’s floorboards when his cell suddenly dinged across the room. Wade strode over to the couch, snatched up his phone, and swore when he fumbled it.
His heart raced in his chest as he frantically scanned the screen.
A text had come through. It was from Rhys.
A dull roar filled Wade’s ears when he read the message.
Twelve hours later, Wade found himself in front of a condominium in mid town. He glared up at the facade of the building, clenched his jaw, and headed inside.
Michael Lynch’s apartment was on the eighth floor of the tower. He opened the door at Wade’s insistent banging and swore when Wade barged past him and stormed inside the place.
“Where is he?” Wade snapped, his gaze roaming the open plan lounge and kitchen diner spread out before him.
“Where’s who?” Michael retorted harshly.
The Proposition (Nights Series Book 6) Page 10
