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“Goddess, we beseech you that this man shall never again darken Vivi’s door nor her vagina.”
“Goddess,” Vivi said, taking another sip, “we beseech you that he never again use his dimples for evil against unsuspecting maidens.”
“Goddess, we beseech you to make sure his hair never does that thing again. You know the thing we mean.” “She totally does.” Vivi nodded. “Goddess, we beseech you to make him the sort of man who will forever think the clitoris is exactly one-third of an inch away from where it actually is.”
She was just a silhouette, a dark figure against even more darkness, but even if he hadn’t heard her voice, he would’ve recognized her, would’ve known that shape anywhere.
With that, she turned and headed back toward the gate, vaulting herself over with an ease that shouldn’t have turned him on nearly so much, but then, he was becoming used to finding literally everything Vivienne did erotic. Walking, jumping over fences, liking polka dots . . . all of it was immensely appealing, and if Rhys took a bit of satisfaction when he noticed her own eyes glaze over a little as he placed one hand on the gate and easily hopped it, well . . . he was only human.
He stopped, watching her, and Vivi knew if she told him not to, if she said they should leave, he would, without question. It was one of the things she’d loved about him so much all those years ago, how easily he put the power in her hands.
“I am mad about you, Vivienne Jones. Again. Or maybe I should say still, because I’m gonna be real honest with you here, cariad. I don’t think it ever went away.”
“The taste of you,” he muttered when they parted, his mouth dropping to her neck as Vivi closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “Can’t get enough of it. Never fucking well could.”
Sometimes she thought what she’d really fallen in love with that summer was the version of herself she was when she was with him.
“Vivienne, if you’ll allow me to make you come tonight, I’d consider myself the most fortunate of men.”
Finally, fucking finally mine.
“I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured against her skin. “How soft you are. How beautiful.” He muttered something else, something in Welsh, and even though Vivi didn’t understand it, her body did.
