Ch. 62 – Only You

With a swift, silent panic, Rhys jammed the lace panties deep beneath the far corner of the mattress, shoving them into the dark crease of the bed frame where the moonlight couldn’t reach. His pulse thundered in his ears, every instinct screaming at the sheer, terrifying absurdity of the situation.

She’s a fucking mad woman, Rhys raved internally, his teeth grinding in the dark as he thought of Ariadne’s twisted game. Leaving her intimate wear right where his wife slept was a calculated landmine—a silent promise that she could breach his sanctuary whenever she pleased.

His subtle, rigid movements in the dark were enough to disturb the quiet bedroom air. Beside him, Lira stirred, her long eyelashes fluttering open as she shifted against the soft sheets. Her golden eyes, even dim in the nocturnal shadows, instantly locked onto his tense silhouette with immediate, instinctual concern.

“Rhys?” she murmured softly, her voice thick with sleep. She pushed herself up on one elbow, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “What’s wrong, honey? Is it... are you having another attack? Is your chest hurting again?”

Rhys forced his body to relax, smoothing his features into the familiar, gentle mask of a loving husband. “No, no... I’m okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, forcing a soft smile as he reached over to smooth a stray lock of hair from her face. “Just couldn’t settle down. Go back to sleep.”

Lira didn’t go back to sleep. Instead, her protective instincts flared. She shifted closer, resting her head against his shoulder while her warm, strong hand began to slowly, rhythmically rub his chest—right over the spot where his kinetic cells usually misfired.

Rhys let out a long, ragged exhale he hadn’t realized he was holding. Basking in her soft, tender touch, the frantic static in his mind actually began to quiet down. The toxic memory of Ariadne’s spiteful taunts began to recede under the genuine, unconditional warmth of the woman resting beside him. This was real. Lira was his anchor, his peace, his actual life.

Slowly, Lira propped herself up, looking down at him with a look of intense, quiet devotion. She leaned in, pressing her soft lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss that smelled faintly of sweet lavender and ozone.

When she pulled back, her golden eyes held a dark, smoldering warmth—a carnal, uninhibited hunger that contrast sharply with her usual gentle domestic demeanor.

“I want to make you feel good, Rhys,” she whispered against his lips, her voice dropping into a low, husky register that sent a sudden, justified thrill straight down his spine. “It’s been a while since we really... had time for just us. You’ve been carrying so much stress lately. Let me take your mind completely off of it.”

A profound chill swept over Rhys—a heavy, emotional weight settling in his gut. This was how it was supposed to be. This was the intimate sanctuary he was promised to, the sacred bond he shared with his wife. Yet, the toxic lingering memory of what he had just done in his office with Ariadne clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to taint the pure affection Lira was pouring over him.

Rhys didn’t have to do a thing. Lira took complete, loving charge. She leaned down, making out with him softly at first, her lips tasting him with a sweet, possessive patience. But as the seconds ticked by, her touch grew fiercer, her passion rising like a tide. With tender, reverent hands, she unbuttoned his shirt and peeled away his clothes, kissing every inch of exposed skin on his chest, his stomach, and down his hips.

She slid down the bed until she stopped directly at his groin. In the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains, Lira paused, gazing at his fully exposed length with a look of pure, unabashed adoration. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss right to the tip, letting out a small, satisfied sigh against his skin.

“I swear... I can never get enough of you,” she breathed softly, looking up into his eyes with a radiant smile.

Slowly, deliberately, Lira took him into her mouth.

She took her time, refusing to rush, pouring every ounce of her love and devotion into the act. Rhys shuddered violently, his hands gripping the sheets as he looked down at her with pure adoration in his eyes. She was breathtaking in the dim moonlight—the subtle, divine glow of her cosmic aura creating a faint, ethereal halo around her dark hair.

Her tongue moved deftly, expertly, tracing every nerve ending with a swift, agonizing precision that made Rhys’s hips lift off the mattress. Her head began to bob in a relentless, rhythmic motion, the sheer physical intensity of her devotion making his knees buckle even as he lay flat on his back.

Lira was a god among mortals, possessing strength that could shatter tectonic plates, yet her superhuman muscles tensed like titanium silk as she held herself perfectly, delicately controlled just to give him pleasure.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her golden eyes gleaming in the dark as she accelerated her pace, her throat taking him deep in swift, wet, desperate gulps. In her eyes, Rhys saw a look that made his heart soar—unfiltered, absolute admiration. She didn’t see a broken, power-depleted hero or a stressful domestic burden; she saw her husband, her partner, the center of her universe.

Then, for a terrifying second, his heart dropped like a stone into his stomach.

A stray, intrusive thought forced its way into his mind—a ghost of Ariadne’s manic face kneeling in his office, the dirty paper note hidden in his pocket, the lace panties buried beneath the mattress. The sickening contrast between Ariadne’s twisted, corrupt submission and Lira’s pure, transcendent love threatened to tear Rhys apart from the inside out. He tried desperately to bury the guilt, to erase the “gift” Ariadne had left behind, forcing his mind back to the woman currently giving him everything.

As Lira’s passion reached a fever pitch, her passive cosmic energy began to react to her deep arousal. Faint, glittering sparks of starlight and golden light began to shimmer around her shoulders and fingertips, illuminating the dark room in a mesmerizing display. Her free hand drifted down between her own thighs, sliding over her profuse wetness as she rubbed herself furiously to the rhythm of her mouth working over him.

The sheer, overwhelming intimacy of pleasing her husband pushed Lira over the edge. With a low, choked moan against his length, she finished hard right there on her knees. A violent, superhuman spasm tore through her frame, her inner thighs trembling as her cosmic energy flared in a sudden, brilliant flash of golden light across the ceiling.

The raw intensity of her climax snapped Rhys completely back to reality, erasing every lingering thought of Ariadne, Vespera, and his past. Sensation flooded through every nerve in his body, reminding him with overwhelming clarity why he loved his wife so fiercely. Carried by the sheer, unbridled energy radiating from Lira, Rhys hit his breaking point and finished hard.

Lira didn’t pull away for a single second. She took every drop, her throat swallowing greedily in smooth, rhythmically deep gulps. Rhys kept thrusting up into her mouth through the peak, lost in the sensation, until Lira finally pulled up slightly, looking down at him with her tongue out, catching the final remnants of his release.

Rhys marveled at the breathtaking sight above him. He absolutely adored this wild, uninhibited side of Lira that she only ever unleashed for him—the cosmic goddess reduced to a hungry, breathless woman devoted entirely to his pleasure. Her tongue swept across her full lips, cleaning up the rest as Rhys lay back against the pillows, his entire body shuddering from head to toe.

Slowly, gracefully, Lira crawled up his body, her golden eyes glowing softly in the dim light. She licked her lips, whispering playfully against his neck, “Mmm... you taste so good, honey.”

She pulled herself up, straddling his hips and looking down at him as if he were the only man in existence—as if there were nothing else in the world that mattered except easing the hidden pain in his chest. “I’m going to give you everything I have, Rhys... as much as you need, whenever you need it.”

Rhys reached up with trembling hands, cupping her warm cheeks, staring up into the luminous eyes of his wife as if she were his absolute, only salvation in a world that was actively trying to tear him apart.