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Unnerving.
I stood still beneath her little discovery tour and promised myself I wouldn’t return that nip. My bite would bea whole lot harder than hers, and breaking skin on a woman I spiraled for wasn’t my style.
“So regal. Beautiful,” she murmured and swallowed. “I—I don’t feel worthy in front of you.”
Her hand around my throat loosened as I shifted back, and I pulled her onto my lap. Willow curled there, her ass in the perfect space over my hard length, hands loose around the back of my neck, lips parted. Like she’d always been there.
I never wanted her to leave.
“You’re amazing,” I whispered, my voice hoarse—from arousal, emotion, or the change, I couldn’t tell. Before she could say a single word more on the topic, I kissed her.
That was the best-worst idea I ever had.
Chapter Six
Willow
Rafe’s mouth came down on mine, soft, gentle, and oh so possessive. I melted into his embrace, arching up on his lap to return his kisses. Slow at first, grazes and permissions given, they transformed into a rush of hot lips, dancing tongues, and sighs that rushed a dose of pleasure straight to my pussy. I gasped against him, needing to be closer, needing air … I couldn’t decide which I needed more.
His thick cock hardened, trapped between us. I reached down, intent on repaying the favor he’d given me on our first encounter. He gripped my wrist, pulling it back to loop around his neck.
“Up here, Willow.” Rafe’s smile promised me so many dark things if I took the plunge.
“Yes, Sir,” I murmured.
His smile deepened, throwing a thousand watts of pure hotness out, and I stood right in the way. “Good girl. You’re becoming a fixture in my mind, you know that? I replayed your cries over and over in my head all night, straining against touching myself until I had you again.”
“You haven’t had me yet,” I teased. My brain wondered why I seemed determined to set us on a suicide run while my heart sang at his words. Good to know he experienced the same sleepless hours, reliving the short period I’d spent in his arms.
Under his control.
His world resembled nothing like mine. Last night built trust between us, at least on my side of the equation, and it let something grow in me I hadn’t experienced in almost a year.
Hope.
Hope and all things love. There’d been an investigation after Byron’s death. Something about his legal work I didn’tunderstand, and the event had been hidden from the shifter community for eleven full months until we were allowed to disclose that he wasn’t traveling, and that he wouldn’t be coming home.
When we were finally permitted to hold a funeral for an empty box, the kids and I grieved a second time. I thought I’d long run out of tears. But my grief dug deep and emptied me out. In the weeks since, I existed bereft of emotion.
Until Rafe.
My head told me it was the insane situation I’d placed myself in. That anyone in dire need of money prepared to lay out their existence to pay debts I hadn’t known we’d accrued would have an emotional reaction. Being strung naked between two poles, whipped to orgasm, and held by quite possibly the most dangerous man in the city couldn’t be considerednormal, even at a stretch.
Not a single iota of my previous line of thought mattered, as I was bundled on his lap and kissed senseless until my body reacted to his. Rafe tipped my head back, arching over me. His hands knotted in my hair in gentle tugs, and the kisses he gave me were anything but sweet. Hard, bruising, he swept his tongue into my mouth, opening me up to him until he left me exposed between the twin steel bands of his arms.
I clung to his chest and weathered the storm raging within him. He tore moan after moan from my throat. My body reached of its own accord, rolling my hips against his rock-hard length, sliding my legs across his until I straddled him. My heat coated both of us in slick arousal. I whimpered at the whorishness of it. Naked, rubbing myself shamelessly on his cock, begging him to fuck me in his office.
Rafe’s hands closed on my hips, his cock notched against my entrance. Arousal dripped from me in a display we could both feel. Heat flared in my cheeks as he broke the kiss.
“Fuck, Willow.” Rafe swore against my mouth, then pulled back, cradling my cheeks in his palms. He dotted tiny kisses along my jawline, between his fingers, nibbling along my throat to bite at the tender spot between shoulder and neck.
I gasped, holding him against me as I started to sink down on his length in a natural conclusion to the heat he’d brought on in me. A whine built in my throat as he held me at bay with one hand beneath my ass. “No, why—”
“Not. Yet.” He kissed my mouth, my nose. His fingers grazed over my breast, stroking my skin too lightly to elicit a full moan, yet enough for me to resume rubbing against him. “This happened fast. Too fast for someone like you.”
“How do you know who I am?” I shot back at him, then shook my head. Why bother to argue? He was Rafe Astor. That said everything. Still, I couldn’t help sassing him. “Oh, that’s right. You’re a little stalker in your spare time.”
An arched eyebrow rose. “As it happens, yes. That’s what I spent today on. Looking you up. Your … family.” He set me back on his thighs, pressing his cock between us where he had no chance of me accidentally fucking him because I got too excited. His lips pursed at whatever discontent he read on my face. “You know I’m going to fuck you senseless tonight anyway. Wait. Give me one minute.” His cautious gaze searched mine, easing the sting out of his barb.
