Rhian

                                    

                                          
Tomas. Tomas, Tomas. His name felt right for him, much more than Peter, which had always seemed too formal, too stiff. He looked so much better like this—vulnerable, relaxed, sprawled out beneath me. A flicker of memory rushed back, his mouth on me, the things he did with his tongue, and I felt a deep warmth spread through me, a craving I couldn't resist.
I leaned in close and whispered his name softly into his ear. "Tomas."
His eyes opened, and with a lazy smile, he lifted his hand to brush my cheek. "Hey," he murmured, and then he pulled me into a kiss, soft and slow this time, a gentleness that felt almost innocent.As the kiss ended, I whispered breathlessly, "Can we... do that again?"
In a flash, he flipped us, pinning me gently beneath him. I let out a delighted laugh, feeling the weight of him against me, anchoring me to the bed.
"Now, Rhian," he said, his voice low, teasing, "what exactly do you want to do again?"
My face warmed, but I pulled him closer, voice barely above a whisper. "This, the kissing . But lower..."
He smiled, the kind of slow, confident smile that told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me. "Open wider, baby," he murmured.
I parted my legs, anticipation making my pulse race, and as his mouth began its journey down my body, I felt my breath catch. His lips moved with practiced, unhurried precision, each kiss fanning the flames he'd started.
And then, just as he reached the edge of my hips, a soft, muffled sound—like a knock—broke through the haze between us. hallway, bringing our private world to a halt.
"Darlings!" Tomas's mom called out, laughter in her voice. "Guests are arriving, and you two have all night for... other activities."
Tomas froze, blinking in surprise. I couldn't help it—I burst into a fit of giggles, covering my mouth, my face flushed from both the interruption and the moment we'd been in. He groaned, burying his face in the pillow beside me, but I could see the smile he was trying to hide.
II envied the ease with which Tomas got dressed. No makeup, no bra, none of the endless discomforts I was wrangling with. His en-suite bathroom looked like something straight out of Architectural Digest, all polished surfaces and elegant fixtures that made me feel out of place and completely captivated at once.
He'd slipped on dark blue dress pants and a crisp white shirt, no tie. He hadn't even touched his hair, and somehow, he still looked... absolutely scrumptious.
"Is this a formal thing?" I asked, glancing from him to my scattered pile of options on the floor.
"With Mama's spur-of-the-moment events, best to stick to semi-casual," he said, adjusting his cuffs with a casualness that seemed impossible for the level of charm he was exuding.
I sighed, rifling through the clothes he'd packed for me. "I have nothing here that's right. Either too casual or too... well," I laughed, holding up two options, "too booby. I want your parents to like me."
"Rhian," he said, a soft smile curling at the edge of his lips. "My mom already likes you. Wear whatever makes you feel good."
I paused, holding up the black dress. "This, then." It was a classic cut, understated elegance that made me feel like a different person. I hadn't worn anything this beautiful since... well, before. "But, uh... I don't have underwear that works with this, so... I guess I'll just go without."
He went completely still, and when I looked up, his gaze had darkened, fixed on me like I'd just dared him to keep his hands to himself. He motioned down at himself with a half-laugh. "You have any idea what you do to me? Walking around my childhood home, in that dress, with no panties on?"
"Sorry," I grinned, not sorry at all. "But we can do that thing you like... later."
"Come here," he said, closing the space between us, his fingers finding the small of my back as he pulled me close. The playfulness dropped, his voice lowering as his eyes met mine, and I could see in his gaze that the night was just beginning. he pulled my hand so i was firmly touching his very very hard dick through his trousers.
"You look absolutely edible, Rhian, and I'm starving," Tomas said, his voice thick with hunger as he looked me over. The music drifting up from downstairs cut through our locked gaze, adding a playful edge to the moment.
"Hair up or down?" I asked, lifting my hands to fuss with it.
"Down, definitely down," he murmured, eyes glued to me. "Don't want anyone staring at those," he added, nodding at my chest. "Mine only."
I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Tomas, can I call you Tomas?"
"Oh, now you ask for permission?" he teased, smirking.
"I just like it better than Peter," I shrugged, holding his gaze with a mischievous smile. "Anyway, I'm going to call you Tomas. And for the record, these are a gift—I think everyone deserves a little peek." I laughed as I pulled open the door, feeling his playful frustration follow me down the hallway
"Hey, baby," Tomas said, his voice soft but intense. I turned to face him, meeting his gaze.
"Home is infinitely better with you here," he added, and there was something in his eyes when he said it, a depth that made me feel like he truly meant it. I felt my heart give a little flutter at the sincerity in his voice.
"Thank you for having me," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, but the words felt just as important.