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He shifted and the hard length of him pressed into her stomach.
Yes.
She pulled back to look at him. His dark curls unruly across his forehead. The shadow of stubble peppering his jaw. Lise smoothed her hands over his chest, where his shirt sat crushed by her fingers. Mapping the defined landscape of his body. His eyes scanned her face, dropped to her lips. She reached out and traced his jaw, the roughness teasing her fingertips. They reached his mouth and he nipped at them. Heat rushed through her, the desire overwhelming, here in his arms. The scent of him all fresh and crisp and wild like the cold air of his craggy mountain home. It made her crave to simply give into the relentless need throbbing through her with every heartbeat. To claim a wildness, a freedom for herself once more. She canted her hips into him, and he pinned her with an incendiary gaze.
‘Be sure,’ he growled, feral and raw. The sensual warning rippled through her, an exquisite ache blooming deep inside. As their bodies rubbed together, he tipped his head back, closed his eyes and moaned, the salacious sound setting her ablaze. She pressed her lips to the strong column of his exposed throat. Breathed in the musky scent of his skin.
The only time she felt warm was with him. The only time the crippling guilt had been silenced was in his arms, her fears annihilated by his lips and hands. There was something about him that made her want to laugh again. Made her feel strong and capable, like the Queen she’d been crowned rather than the lost Princess who’d first taken the throne. None of this had been easy, trying to save the country, but this glorious man, he had faith in her, believed in her. And she’d begun to believe in herself too, that maybe she didn’t have to burn everything to the ground, but simply change what didn’t work and keep the rest. And why, in the process, shouldn’t she take something for herself? Stop fighting and give into pleasure for once?
‘I’m sure.’
His gaze was intent, hot. Boring into her as if he could see her soul. ‘Do we need protection? I have none in this room.’
He’d thought of that, her refusal to fall pregnant, when she would have forgotten everything for him in this moment. A rush of heat flooded her, like being immersed in hot water. She gripped his shirt hard. Shook her head. Her cycle was regular and her period due any day.
‘No. It’s a safe time.’
‘My health checks are clear.’
‘I trust you,’ she whispered, realising the blinding truth of her words in this moment. She hadn’t thought she’d trust anyone again, but somehow Rafe had slid his way through her defences.
Then her world flipped, and she lay underneath Rafe. Pressed deep into the mattress. His hips cradled between her thighs. The hardness of himthere,right there. Her hands moved under his shirt, running over the tense muscles of his back. She slid them down his spine, relishing the quiver of flesh under her palm. The whole of her burning up in the bed.
He kissed her neck and she trembled, his teeth scraping the sensitive flesh at the junction of her shoulder. She slipped her hands beneath the waistband of his pyjamas to his backside, the muscles flexing and releasing as he rocked against her. Both fully clothed yet it was as if they had nothing on. The curl of pleasure tightening inside. His fingers circled her nipple through the soft fabric she wore. She writhed underneath him, trying to get closer as he dropped his head and sucked before pulling away. She whimpered in protest.
‘You need something, Lise?’
The feel of him, hard and strong as she ground into him. ‘Too many clothes.’
She tugged his shirt over his head, and he tossed it on the floor. Mouth on hers, teeth clashing as he plundered her. No finesse, no softness but a taking. She gave back, her tongue curling with his, their panting breaths filling the room. He raked her thin robe from her shoulders then lifted her top. Lise shrugged both off, she and Rafe tangled in each other as they wrestled out of the remaining clothing until they were deliciously naked. Hands roaming and searching. Goosebumps peppered her body.
‘Getting cold again? I’ll keep you warm.’ Rafe stroked his hands lower, teasing her inner thighs. ‘Open for me.’
His voice a rough demand that sent another shiver through her. She relaxed her legs, breaths coming in short gusts. Squirming against his clever fingers, teasing her close to where she needed, but not close enough. The sensation in her body empty, unquenched. Rafe traced his lips along the shell of her ear, murmuring about her perfection, how responsive she was for him as the maddening stroke on her inner thighs continued. Then one hand left its ministrations. She groaned. The sound was greeted with a wicked chuckle, which rumbled through her.
‘Patience,’ he murmured, the breath tickling at her ear, ‘will be rewarded.’
The fingertips of his right hand brushed her nipple. She arched her back, catlike, craving more contact than these frustrating teases. Her reward was his thumb and forefinger, rolling the too sensitive flesh between them.
She writhed. Desperate. Wanting him to fill the emptiness inside her. He didn’t move. Other than to keep up the torture of her nipple, each touch sending electric shocks between her legs. His free hand continuing to stroke her inner thigh, driving her mad.
She shifted against him to try and get his hands closer. Moaning unintelligible things. ‘Please, please, Rafe.’
‘I love it when you beg for pleasure,’ he said, voice harsh and strained. The weight of his own desire, bold and heavy against her leg as he tormented her. That frustrating hand of his dipping low to slide between her legs. He stroked, gently at first. Driving her higher and higher. She wasn’t cold now. Her body a furnace. All she needed was relief. She chased it with mindless determination.
He rose above her, the blunt head of him between her legs. Slowly, so slowly, easing inside as he held her gaze.
‘Whatever you need,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
Rafe’s voice rippled through her as he gave her what she craved. She burned for him as he slid deep into her body. Her spine arching at the exquisite pressure, the fullness.
‘You aren’t. Please. Please, Rafe.’
He stopped and stared, looking deep into her eyes. The muscles of his neck straining as he held himself still above her, but there was something else. Something passing across his face. Myriad emotions that washed over him then were gone, heated things that spoke of desire and possession and something else that made her breath catch.
‘Tilt up,’ he murmured, stroking a hand down her body, under the swell of her backside. ‘Wrap your legs round mine. Move with me.’
She did, joining him in the rhythm of their lovemaking, as he filled her over and over till the fire ignited inside her. Building to something exquisite, irrevocable. She moved with Rafe as she let it take her, hurtling her towards the edge.
