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She groaned because she knew what was coming and despite how quickly this was all happening she felt desperately impatient, unable to believe there were even seconds to wait.
“Please,” she whimpered, writhing beneath him, her hands scratching his back, digging into his butt, her body flooded with an ancient, primal need. For years this part of her had been dormant and now she was alive all over again, and more than ever. It was as though a wildfire was rushing through her, and the ashes it left were bringing forth a phoenix. She was out of her own control, her body wasn’t acting in consort with her mind; she was simply instinct.
He slid his hand behind her head, his fingers weaving through her long blonde hair, his mouth on hers as he drove his arousal into her, thrusting deep and hard so she had no time to prepare for the sweet, perfect invasion. She cried out as he filled her completely, his name spilling from her lips like liquid, her body bursting, her skin tingling. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he moved, pleasure fast-spreading, an orgasm tipping her over the edge only seconds later, the fever-pitch of desire rising until it burst, and she gripped him tight, her breathing tormented as she held on for dear life while the intense feeling began to fade. But it didn’t really fade, only ebbed for a moment before his movements stirred her to life once more.
This time, he went slower, each movement calculated to tease her. He pushed up to observe her, watching as her face contorted and then his head dropped to her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth before transferring to the other, so she felt an orgasm overtaking her, her whole body throbbing with the inescapable pleasure of what he was making her feel. She whimpered – it was all she was capable of – and dug her nails into his shoulders and then, another explosion was upon her. It built and it began to release and this time, he came with her, his own body wracked with the harsh exhalation of breath as he exploded in unison. He pulsed inside of her and she lifted up off the piano, pressing her body to his and kissing him hard, needing him to understand something she couldn’t even make sense of. It was too much and it was just enough.
The room was large and dark, only the fine blade of the moon’s light casting any relief from the shadows, and Lauren was glad for that. There was anonymity in darkness. Privacy even now, in the midst of the intimacy they’d just shared.
Slowly, her breathing returned to normal and with it came the dawning of sanity, and Lauren knew regrets would follow swif
tly. But for now, she focussed on breathing in and out and on accepting the strange inevitability of what had just happened.
“Fuck.”
She blinked, the harsh invective the last thing she’d expected. She pulled back a little so she could see Raf’s face. He was staring at her as though he’d seen a ghost. And even then, in the midst of the turmoil she was experiencing, she couldn’t help but smile. Wasn’t she the one who was supposed to be filled with regrets?
“What?”
He moved away from her and turned, grabbing his boxer shorts off the ground and pulling them on, keeping his back to her. The desertion was strangely chilling. She felt an ache low down in the pit of her stomach. “What?” She repeated, crossing her arms over her chest, the regret she knew she’d experience coming hard and fast now.
He turned back to her, his face a study in angles and shadows in the darkness of the room. “I completely forgot to use protection.”
Stricken, Lauren pressed a hand to her lips. “Me too.”
“It’s my responsibility.”
Again, she felt a smile tickle her lips despite the fact the situation definitely wasn’t funny. “I think it takes two to tango, actually.”
He moved closer, and at this range she could see his face was earnest. “I’m sorry, Lauren. That’s…never happened to me before.”
He lifted a hand to her cheek, softly, apologetically. Her stomach squeezed and despite what they’d just done she pulled away from his touch. In the build up to having sex, it had felt normal for him to touch her, but now the dam had burst and things were returning to normal, so that she didn’t welcome their intimacy.
“It’s fine, honestly, don’t worry about it,” she murmured, the words comforting for their cool formality. She side-stepped him, moving down from the piano and grabbing her robe. She pulled it on as she spoke. “I’ve been on the pill for years. And if you’re usually as fastidious as you claim then I can’t see there’s any risk to either of us.”
“I’ve never not used a condom,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “I presume you take similar precautions?”
Her breath sucked inwards in that awful, aching way she was used to now. When Thom had first died, she’d wake up some mornings and forget – just for a second – and then the memories would come whooshing back, bringing renewed grief with it. But it was worse, somehow, than losing him the first time. That had been gradual. Remembering anew was a sharp form of torture, a dose of sadness and reality rather than the slow-drip-torture that had been his actual death.
“I’m safe,” the words emerged strained. She swallowed quickly, emotions barrelling towards her now. She’d expected to feel regret but now the overwhelming sense was one of guilt, and sadness. She lifted a hand to her chest, pressing it there before turning away, needing Rafaello not to see this.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” There’d only been Thom, and that was so many years ago. She reached for her clothes without looking at him; she couldn’t.
“I’m glad. And I am sorry. I wasn’t prepared for that. I didn’t expect you’d come here.”
“No,” she agreed swiftly, shrugging as though it didn’t matter. “Nor did I.” Her smile was brittle. “Anyway, that was…nice. Thank you.”
His laugh was a short, sharp burst. “Nice?” He stared at her, his eyes boring into hers. “Thank you?”
She had to get out of there. It was all too much. “Yes.” She nodded and took a step backwards. “Good night.”
He stared after her for several long seconds, his brain struggling to catch up in its post-coital euphoria. That had been amazing. Not ‘nice’. It had rocked his world, right to its foundations. He felt like a freaking God, and she was calling it ‘nice’?
And where the hell was she running off to now?
He’d had enough of watching her walk away.
