Rhys grips my waist in his massive hands. He makes me feel small and dainty even though I’m anything but. Pulling out, he drives back inside me. “Fuck, but I love the way your cunt takes me, takes all of me. I could fuck you until I die,” he says.
“Yes,” I pant as he takes me roughly, plunging in and out of me. The only sounds in the box are those of sex as he drives me closer and closer to another climax.My body tingling in a way that it feels as if the last orgasm he gave me almost never ended—just waned a bit—only to be brought back to the brink.
He glides his hands up my torso to the delicately folded fabric that makes up the sweetheart cut of the bodice and pulls it down, letting my heavy breasts swing free before he covers them with his hands. He massages them, pulling at my nipples, rolling them into tight little buds. The sensation of him, my husband, moving inside me, touching me, holding me, it’s all too much.
I turn my head to look back out into the theater and I see her again, watching me as Rhys drives into me harder and faster. But what I see that Suzanne does not, is the earl has stepped into her box and is sneaking up on her with a wicked smile on his face.
“I can’t stop,” he says as he plunges into me again and again.
“Rhys—” I gasp as he lowers his hands down to my hips, holding me tight as he thrusts roughly into me.
“I need you to come, hen.”
“Baby,” I pant as he hits that spot again and again.
But I’m no longer lost to my husband; I’m watching the earl wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. Her eyes go wide as she realizes what’s happening and she scratches at his hands, but he just laughs.
“Fuck, wife,” he growls as his thrusts become erratic. “It gets better every time. You’ve ruined me.”
Lady Thomley flops forward as the light leaves her eyes, and the earl winks at me as he begins dragging her away. I panic. Rhys takes my thrashing as enthusiasm and jerks inside me as he comes and tears slide silently down my face. I squeeze my eyes closed again. I know when I open them the earl and Lady Thomley will be gone.
“Hen?” Rhys asks. He realizes that I’m crying as he pulls out and begins to right our clothing. “Stella, darlin’ you’re scaring me. Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I whisper.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s dead.”
“Yes, that’s how this opera goes… Is that all this is about?” he asks.
“No, not the show,” I try to explain but I’m beginning to become hysterical. “Suzanne.”
“Lady Thomley?” he asks, confusion written all over his face. “She’s committed treason. When she’s found, she’ll have to answer for those crimes. I know you felt a friendship with her, but her actions were unconscionable.”
“I know that,” I snap. “But she was here. I saw her.”
“Where?” he asks me, suddenly all seriousness.
“She was in that box across the way that’s dark now,” I explain. “She’s gone now.”
“When did you notice her?”
“When you were… um…” I try to explain. “Touching me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I tried to, but you… What you were doing was proving to be hard to resist,” I explain.
“And after your orgasm?” he asks like I’m an idiot.
“When I opened my eyes, she was gone.”
“So you probably imagined it,” he says. “It’s been an exhausting and emotional day; I shouldn’t have taken you so roughly. You’re too tired.”
“No, Rhys,” I try again. “You don’t understand. I saw her die.”
“What are you talking about?”