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“I’m afraid that isn’t enough. I need more of your taste.”
Sylvia watched in silence as Rafe leaned down and pressed her thighs even wider. “Open for me, my love.” She obeyed immediately, and Rafe pressed his lips to her core. His little bird was as delightfully sensitive as ever, arching and twisting against his mouth. Rafe clamped his hands on her waist to hold her in place as he began to lick her delicate folds, and Sylvia practically sobbed his name. Then he gently raked his teeth across the nub of her sex before he began to suck on it, and she arched her back as her release thundered through her. He immediately pushed two fingers into her, reveling in her throbbing sex, and gently worked her until she came again. By then Sylvia’s hands were fisted in his hair.
When he pulled away, she gazed up at him, flushed and spent. She then opened her thighs wider and tugged at his shirt. “Please. I need you,” she panted.
It was just what he longed to hear.
Rafe tore open his trousers and fit his aching cock to her opening. She was already so wet. So ready for him. As he leaned over her, Sylvia’s hands slid up under his shirt, stroking the muscles of his back and shoulders. She then hitched one leg up against his waist. Rafe reached down and took hold of himself, pressing slowly but relentlessly into her inviting warmth. Sylvia’s light gasp set him on fire anew. Within moments he was fully sheathed inside her, but that wasn’t enough. Rafe then hooked one hand under her knee to open her even more.
Sylvia’s hands dragged down his back, and she grasped his bottom firmly, urging him even deeper. He muttered a curse. She gripped him as tight as a vise. With his other hand Rafe dug his nails into the fine pile of the carpet so hard he swore he would scrape the wood beneath. When he began to thrust, she looked him directly in the eyes, her rosebud mouth parted in pleasure.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Just like that.”
“I love it when you order me about,” he said raggedly. “If you told me to go to hell, I’d do it just to please you.”
Sylvia let out a soft laugh. “Let’s hope it never comes to that.”
Rafe thrust again and again, watching as her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head back. He wrapped his hand around the back of her slender neck and took her lips in a fierce kiss that nearly wrenched everything from him. Everything he had to give was now hers. Forever.
He suddenly tore his mouth away. “Say you’re mine,” he barked against the release barreling down on him.
Sylvia opened her eyes and looked deeply into his as she slowly pulled a hand through his hair. “I’m yours, Rafe,” she murmured gently. “And you’re mine.”
That was all it took. Rafe groaned as he pulled out while the hardest release of his life washed over him. “Dammit, Sylvia,” he panted into her hair as he crushed her against him. “Goddammit.” Rafe rolled onto his back beside her and stared blankly at the ceiling as the sparks from his release slowly faded. “I hope you weren’t planning to rid yourself of me anytime soon,” he began after he caught his breath and fixed his trousers. “I’d put up a hell of a fuss now.” He glanced over, hoping his cavalier tone successfully hid his desperation.
Sylvia laughed and met his gaze. “No. I’m afraid we’re stuck with each other.”
Relief flooded through him. “Excellent.” He smoothed her gown down and pulled her to his chest, where she readily nestled against him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like they had been already doing this for years.
Rafe broke the pleasurable silence after a few minutes. There was more he still needed to say. “I read some of your columns. The ones I could find anyway.”
She lifted her head. “You did?”
“They gave me much to think about. Things I had never really questioned before. I didn’t agree with everything you wrote, but I appreciate your perspective.”
“Well, then, I’ll just have to do more to convince you,” she said with a cheeky grin.
“I’m open to suggestions, especially if provided with the right incentive.” Rafe waggled an eyebrow before he turned serious. “Have you thought about writing a column again?”
“Lord, no.” Sylvia shook her head.
“You should. You’ve a powerful voice.”
She relaxed back against him and was quiet for a long moment. “Do you really think so?”
Rafe smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I do. You have my full support, whatever you decide.”
Sylvia tilted her face up to his and stroked his jaw. The wonder in her eyes nourished him more than ten banquets ever could. “Thank you. That means a great deal.”
Rafe grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Good. You’ll soon get used to being adored by me.”
Sylvia laughed again and ran a finger along his jaw. “No, Rafe,” she began as she pulled him toward her for a kiss. “I don’t think I ever will.”
Epilogue
December 22nd, 1897
Monaco
