Perfect Flaws

35. Perfectly Addicted

(WARNING: This chapter contains strong and heavy sexual scenes, if you are uncomfortable, I advise to skip this chapter)

Rhea

When your mind is so pleasantly suffocated with ecstasy, you can't focus on anything else but that alone.

The way he uses his hands to caress me, holding me so impossibly close that I'm not even sure whose heartbeat I'm feeling, is powerful in its own way.

His words float around my ears while his lips travel up and down my body in a million directions. He was asked to torture me, to make me relive this over and over, and he has. He's torturing me in the greatest way I could've imagined.

He taunts me in the slow pace he takes as he devours my skin. His kisses feel like sizzling knives into the protection I've built around my heart.

Just a night ago, I hated him. A part of me wanted him dead because I was hurt, I was scared of letting him in.

Now?

I want him alive.

I want to feel alive because of him.

I want to feel his warm skin against mine, I want each crevice in his hands to become familiar to my body.

I want to know every detail of him and his life.

I want to be the only person who knows just how alive he feels. To know how well he can make your heart race and your adrenaline spike.

He mumbles small words into my neck, calling me his, and him mine. He tells me everything I've wanted to hear. He does everything I've wanted to feel.

The tips of his fingers graze my skin as he lifts his shirt off of me. His eyes immediately find my body, and he smiles as he sees me covered by another piece of fabric.

He lifts me just enough to unhook my bra, helping me as he slides the straps down my arms and off my skin.

Letting me touch him as much as he has to me, I take his shirt off him. I pull him close to me, keeping our hearts beating in the fastest rhythm.

The cold air brushes against my skin, sending sneaky shivers across my body. He grabs the bed covers, enclosing us in between, secluded in our own world.

His head dips, resting in the crook of my neck as his lips find my pulse. I feel his hands snake down my waist, inching closer to the hem of my sweatpants.

A finger hooks under, as I let him pull down.

He takes hold of my underwear in one hook, pulling any fabric covering me, all the way down to my ankles.

I help him undress, giving light kisses on his chest.

His hands curl under my thighs, pulling me closer to him as he leans us back. Each move he makes is deliberate and calculated.

His body on top of mine as he mumbles into my chest once again, kissing each and every inch, leaving a trail of marks.

"God, you're fucking perfect. Everything about you is perfect," he breathes.

A smile escapes me, easily vanishing when a moan replaces its role throughout my lips. "Stop saying things I want to hear," I whisper, grabbing a fist full of his hair.

His kisses bless me all the way up to my ear, as he hums, "Don't tell me my little queen has a praise kink," his low and raspy voice sends shivers down my spine.

No words leave my mouth, not wanting to admit it.

"Tell me how perfect you are," he grins against my throat, placing a simple kiss.