Chapter 10: Lust at First Light

“And I want you to promise me that you’ll never cut it. I want you to keep it long, to let it grow, to let it be a part of who you are.” Rhys’ hand moved to her hair, his fingers tangling in the thick, silky strands. He pulled gently, tilting her head back, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Say it, Sarah. Promise me you’ll never cut your hair,” he whispered, his voice a mix of desire and command. Sarah’s chest tightened, her heart pounding in her ears as she considered his request. She looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and need behind his words, and felt a warmth spread through her. She took a deep breath, her voice steady as she said, “I promise, Rhys.

I won’t cut my hair.” Rhys’ face broke into a wide grin, his eyes softening with relief and happiness. “Thank you, Sarah. That means more to me than you know.” He pulled her close, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss. Sarah melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

As they pulled away, Sarah noticed the first light of dawn filtering through the window. She glanced at the clock, her brows furrowing as she realized that she had been awake for hours, her mind racing with thoughts of their night together. Rhys, on the other hand, was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

She smiled softly, her gaze drifting over his face as he slept. He looked younger, more innocent, with his dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

She watched him sleep, her mind drifting back to their night together. She thought about the way he had licked her underarms, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. She recalled the firm grip of his hands on her ass, the way his fingers had dug into her flesh as he thrust into her. She blushed at the memory, her body tingling with remembered pleasure. She had never imagined that she would enjoy something so ... intimate, so primal. But with Rhys, it had felt right, like a gift from heaven.

She shifted slightly, her body still aching from their marathon of sex. She had lost count of the positions they had tried, the ways they had explored each other’s bodies. It was as if they couldn’t get enough, as if they were desperate to learn every secret, every sensation.

Sarah’s body was a map, and Rhys was an explorer, determined to chart every inch of it. As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, Sarah found her eyes drawn to her reflection in the mirror. She stared at her own body, her gaze drifting over the curves and lines, the scratches and bruises that marked their night together. Her hair was wild, tangled and disheveled, a testament to their passion. She reached up, her fingers brushing against the soft, dark hair under her arms. She had always been embarrassed by it, had always made sure to keep it hidden, to keep it a secret. But last night, Rhys had seen it, had touched it, had explored it with his tongue.

The memory sent a shiver down her spine, and she wondered why she had ever felt embarrassed.

Rhys had made her feel beautiful, desirable, and she had never felt more alive. She reached up, her fingers brushing against the soft, dark hair under her arms, and she smiled. She had never felt more like herself than she did in that moment.

She was Sarah Kincaid, a 45-year-old police officer, but she was also a woman, a lover, and she was proud of it. She looked back at Rhys, still sleeping peacefully, and felt a warmth spread through her. She wanted to wake him, to kiss him, to feel his hands on her again. But she also wanted to let him sleep, to watch him as he dreamed.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and made her way to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, letting the water heat up before stepping in. She stood under the spray, letting the water wash over her, rinsing away the sweat and scent of their lovemaking.

She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to the night before, to the way Rhys had touched her, tasted her, explored every inch of her body. She could still feel his hands on her, his lips, his tongue. She could still hear his voice, low and husky, whispering words of desire and praise.

She reached for the soap, lathering it in her hands before running them over her body. She took her time, her touch gentle and reverent, as if she was worshipping her own skin. She thought about Rhys’ hands on her, about the way he had touched her with such reverence and desire.

She thought about the way he had explored her body, about the places he had touched that no one else ever had. She thought about the way he had made her feel, about the pleasure he had given her, and she felt a warmth spread through her.

As she stepped out of the shower, she heard a soft knock at the bathroom door. “Sarah?” Rhys’ voice was muffled through the door, but she could still hear the concern in it. “Are you okay?”

She quickly wrapped a towel around herself and opened the door, finding Rhys standing on the other side, his hair rumpled from sleep, his eyes filled with worry. “I’m fine,” she said, smiling softly at him.

“I just needed a moment to myself.”

Rhys’ eyes softened, and he reached out, tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “I was starting to worry,” he admitted. “You’ve been in there for a while.”

Sarah chuckled, her hand covering his. “I was just enjoying the moment,” she explained. “I don’t get many chances to do that.”

Rhys’ brow furrowed, and he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her. “You deserve to enjoy every moment, Sarah,” he murmured against her hair. “You deserve to be happy.”

Sarah’s heart swelled, and she leaned into his embrace, her head resting on his chest.

She could hear the steady beat of his heart, and it soothed her, made her feel safe. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and inhaling his scent. It was a mix of soap and something uniquely Rhys, and it made her feel at home.

Rhys’ hands moved to her hair, his fingers tangling in the damp strands. He began to massage her scalp gently, and Sarah let out a soft moan of pleasure. It felt amazing, and she could feel the tension in her body melting away.

“You have the most beautiful hair, Sarah,” Rhys murmured, his voice soft. “I love it when it’s down like this.”

Sarah smiled, her eyes still closed.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest. “But you’re not the only one who can give a good massage.”

Rhys chuckled, his hands moving to her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles. “I didn’t realize you were so tense,” he said, his voice filled with concern. “I thought you were just enjoying the moment.”