A shiver tingled down my spine as I felt a familiar tug of need low in my belly. I brushed my thumbs along the bristle of his cheeks and leaned in to whisper against his mouth, “I’m interested in making it phenomenal.”

He grinned, his eyes dancing. He slid a hand under my shirt, and I trembled a little, undermining my verbal cockiness. “Big talk, sweetheart.”

“You don’t think I can make your night phenomenal?”

Rhys deftly unclipped my bra and my eyes widened. His grin softened to a sensual smile. “I was exhausted when I walked in this door. But all you have to do”—he slipped his hands out of my shirt to grasp the hem—“is press that gorgeous little body of yours to mine”—he drew the shirt up over my head, and I raised my arms to help him—“and I’m harder …” Rhys paused as he watched me lower the straps of my bra. Nervousness filled me as I bared myself to him.

I wasn’t voluptuous.

Not at all.

I worried for about a millisecond that I wasn’t enough. Only a millisecond because Rhys literally growled under his breath as he stared at my breasts. His eyes dragged back up to meet mine as his hands coasted up my sides. “The last time I was this hard, I was a fucking teenager, so my night is already phenomenal, sweetheart.”

I gasped as he cupped my small breasts in his big hands, shivering against the delicious rough calluses on his palms, moaning as his thumbs caught my nipples. “Rhys.”

Seconds later I was in very real danger of turning into a melted puddle as Rhys tugged me toward him so he could wrap his hot mouth around my left nipple.

Pleasure zinged straight between my legs. I clasped my hand behind his head, writhing against him as he lavished worshipful attention upon my breasts. Swollen, needy, I sighed as he trailed hot kisses up toward my neck. I bent to him, offering my mouth, which he took with a voraciousness that shattered my control.

“Too many clothes,” I gasped against his mouth, pushing at his shoulders.

I felt him chuckle against me, and then I let out a squeal of delight as I suddenly found myself on my back on the bed.

Rhys’s eyes burned with a desire that rocked me as he reached for the top button on my jeans. “You first,” he demanded, gruff with impatience.

Shimmying my hips, I aided him as he yanked my jeans down my legs. Once he’d discarded them, his eyes held mine as he reached for my underwear. My breath caught as his fingers curled around them. Sensing he was waiting for permission, I attempted not to smile at the sweetness of the gesture and nodded. He pulled them slowly down my legs, eyes locked on mine, until I was so beyond ready, a whimper escaped me.