His Personal Assistant

56. | Punishment

I wave goodbye to Kasey and Eira, a sleeping Azzy in Eira's arms. "We'll be back for Christmas." She smiles at us.

"I'm looking forward to it." I smile back at her. "Bye, guys." I say with a small giggle. They walk to their cars and I shut the door, turning to walk into the living room where Rhys is supposed to be. But instead, his lips capture mine, ravishing me like a starved beast.

When we finally come up for air, his eyes are hooded, full of desire. "You've been taunting me all day."

I pretend to look confused, but I know he's right. I've seen the double glances. The way his eyes ran over me multiple times, as if mentally undressing me.

He wanted nothing more than to take me right then and there. I'm surprised he managed to keep control.

"You like my outfit?" It's a loose sweater with a tight pair of leggings that make my ass stand out.

"I'd like nothing more than to rip it off of you." He replies.

I lean up to his ear, whispering, "So why don't you?"

He groans, and I feel him growing harder against my stomach. "You're playing a dangerous game."

"Am I?" I quirk a taunting brow at him. "Then maybe...I deserve a punishment."

"Fuck." He tosses his head back. When he looks back at me, his eyes are hooded still, blazing with so much desire. There's no doubt in my mind that says he doesn't want me. Not with the way he's looking at me. Like I'm his cure to an addiction.

His lips are back on mine before I can blink, the kiss passionate and aggressive. He hauls me up into his arms, carrying me into the living room and laying me down on the couch, our lips never disconnecting.

He pulls away to rip off his shirt, tossing it somewhere, and I push at his chest, flipping our positions, so I'm settled on his lap.

I cup his face, our tongues sliding together. His hands run up and down my sides. My hands slide down, gliding over his chest until I reach his pants. I unbutton his pants and allow him to slide them off, all while keeping my lips locked on his.

We separate only to come up for air. I pull away first, and he stares up at me, as if he's submissive to me. I lean down, kissing down his torso until I'm sitting on my knees, staring up at him.

"Naomi." He whispers.

"I want to." I tell him.

I remove his boxers, his cock hard like steel. I rub him gently, looking up at him to make sure I'm doing it right. I grip him a little tighter, stroking him a few times, before taking him into my mouth. I take him whole, the head of his dick sliding against my throat.

I hear him groan, his hand falling into my hair. "Oh, fuck."

Slowly, I begin to move my head up and down, his hand tightening in my hair when I do. I hollow out my cheeks and he groans.

I look up at him, finding his head thrown back against the couch. Each time, I take him deeper and deeper into my throat and he meets me, bucking his hips.

When I need air, I substitute using my hands, stroking him and sucking at his head. He groans louder. "Fuck, Naomi."

I take him back in my mouth, sensing that he's getting closer. But suddenly he pulls me away, dragging me back up onto his lap. "Not yet." He pulls me to him by my chin, our lips colliding yet again.

His hands slip under my sweater, then we pull away and he all but rips the piece of fabric from my body. My leggings are next to go, being tossed onto the floor. Our lips slam together once more, and I feel as though I can't get enough of him. I want all of him.

His hand slides down my side, down my thigh and cupping the underside of my knee, pinning it to his hip before flipping us.

His lips lead a trail of kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and down my stomach until they reach my panties. He looks up at me through his eyelashes, as if for permission, and I nod. He pulls them off, adding them to the pile of clothes on my living room floor, and runs his fingers through my folds.

My back arches, any slight movement against my swollen clit sends pleasure shooting through me.

"Fuck. You're so wet for me already." He leans back over me, hovering.

"Might have to keep track of how many times you've said fuck tonight." I retort, my voice breathless. A smile pulls at his lips before they're on mine, nipping and sucking.

With one swift thrust, he slams into me, the shock of it causing me to break apart from him to gasp. He lets me take a second to adjust, my breathing scattered.

Then he moves.

He uses the armrest behind my head as balance and slowly picks up speed with each thrust. He stuffs his face in my neck, kissing and sucking at the nape of it as he all but slams into me.

I know I'm going to be bruised in the morning, but I can't seem to care. All I can focus on is him. And us. And the pleasure coursing through me.

He groans into my neck, holding me by my hips. My legs wrap around his waist, allowing him a deeper angle and my eyes roll back, a moan slipping past my lips. I gasp and pant, moan and whimper as he rails me beyond relief, my nails digging into his back.

"Rhys." I moan. My climax slowly starts to build, that familiar knot I always get from him tightening in the lower of my stomach.

"I know, baby." He whispers in my ear. "Oh, fuck." He moans in my ear, and I pull him even closer, his cock hitting my g-spot over and over.

My back arches into him as the knot in my stomach grows taut before exploding, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as my orgasm runs over me in tidal waves. Rhys's thrusts grow sloppy before he's following along with me, a long moan slipping out of his lips.

We collapse against the couch, sweat dotting our bodies. We breathe heavily, pleasure still washing over us.

He leans up and smiles down at me, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, before he pulls out. I hiss at the feeling. He pauses for a second before he's picking me up, spinning us until we face the doorway.

I giggle. "Where are we going?"

"We...are going to take a nice long bath." He smiles at me.

"Remember what happened last time we tried to take a bath together?" I raise a brow.

"Yep. You're not gonna fall asleep then say you're not ready for a relationship, are you?" He smirks at me.

I smack his shoulder. "Hey! That's not funny." I pout. "I was over dramatic back then."

"Hey, if you're not ready, you're not ready. I'm not making fun of you for that." He sets me down on the bathroom floor, and I hiss, my body burning.

"I think you bruised my pelvic bone." I wince.

"Whoops. Maybe this bath will help." I nod, sighing.

Walking to the toilet, I use it while he turns on the bath, adding bubbles. When I finish using the bathroom, we climb into the tub, the bubbles coming up to my shoulders.

For a good half-hour, we play in the bubbles, making faces and adding some on top of our heads. We laugh and I realize that this is it. This is what I want.

I want this life with Rhys. I want to be happy. With him.