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Boom…boom…boom.
I reminded myself that the blood feud had been over for nearly a decade. Things had progressed to the point where Victorine was considering a joint venture with the Kral Syndicate—a casino on the Canada/United States border—the joint venture that Rafe was in Montreal to negotiate.
But that didn’t stop me from recalling the feud’s height, when Kral assassins had made multiple attempts on my life.
“Relax.” He lifted my skirt again, hands warm against my hips.
His breath sucked in. The lace panties didn’t conceal much more than my bra. He eyed my mound with the same intent scrutiny he’d given my breasts. Heat licked up my spine, like he was already touching me.
He touched his mouth to the spot right over my clit and blew, a hot stream of air that nearly made me jump out of my skin.
My thighs tensed. I brought my hands back to his head. “More. Right there.”
“You like that?” He waited for my eager nod before doing it again. He followed that by tonguing and kissing my clit through the panties.
A big finger slid beneath the gusset and inside my sex. “You’re so wet. So ready for me.”
“Mm.” I tried to pull him closer, but he resisted.
He’d been holding up my dress with his free hand, but now he looked up. “Hold up your skirt. And don’t let go.”
When I obeyed, he made a guttural sound of approval. “Damn, Zoe. You look fucking sexy.”
I swallowed. I felt so vulnerable, standing there with my legs spread and skirt bunched up around my waist. But I also liked how much Rafe seemed to like it.
Then I forgot everything but him as he pressed another kiss to my swollen, sensitized flesh. Inside my sex, his finger did wonderful, wicked things.
My pelvis rocked up. I moaned and dug my fingers into the thin material of my skirt. “So good…so good.” I was speaking in French now. “Si bon, si bon.”
“Take it, sugar.” He released me long enough to drag the panties down my legs. I lifted one foot so he could pull them off. Before I could kick them off the other foot, his hot mouth was on me, the panties still hanging around one ankle.
In between kisses and licks, Rafe kept talking. Sexy, dirty talk that made my whole body tighten.
“Gods, I love how you taste. So…perfect. Like a good girl gone bad. I’m going to do this until you come, and then you’re going to beg me to bury myself deep inside you so you can come that way, too.”
He carefully inserted a second finger inside me, stroking my inner walls. Heat surged up my spine, sparked behind my eyelids.
“Beg me, Zoe. Tell me you want more.”
I was so wet, so primed for him. The whole scene was so erotic. Me wanting to touch him but not being able to because I was holding up my skirt. The wall against my back. The man kneeling at my feet but clearly in total control.
“Please. More. I—”
Was that broken voice mine?
Then Rafe did something with his tongue that had me groaning. It was too much sensation. I tried to catch my breath. Tried to slow down, to savor every delicious feeling.
“Come for me,” he said, and nipped my tender, over-stimulated clit.
Sparks exploded behind my eyes. My inner muscles clamped around his finger. I moaned his name and shot over the edge.
My legs felt as unsteady as a toddler’s. I slid down the wall, but Rafe caught me and wrapped an arm around my hips, keeping me where I was.
He gave a few easy licks, giving me time to recover, before removing his fingers from me. He sucked them clean with a wicked look up at me.
My chest heaved. I regained enough strength to stand on my own. “That was—"
“Shh.” He shaped my hips and thighs with his hands. Teased my calves with his fingertips. Slid a finger into my left sandal to caress my instep. “Don’t talk. Just enjoy.”
