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Me.
The hot slide of flesh against flesh. The mingling of our scents. His lean, hard-muscled body between my thighs.
I hadn’t known I could want this bad. Need this bad.
He lowered his head to kiss me. His tongue stroked into my mouth. I sucked it deeper, and he groaned and thrust harder.
“The Lady knows, I want you,” he said against my lips. “Too damn much.” He rolled his hips in an unexpected move that had me sucking oxygen.
“You like that?” He did it again.
“Yes, yes …” I was so close. I pushed against him, desperate for more.
“Do you want to come for me?”
Yes.
I didn’t say it aloud, but he seemed to hear me anyway. He stroked into me, hard and deep, and at the same time, nipped my lower lip.
Too much sensation.
“That’s it. Take it, baby.”
My climax exploded through me like a firebomb. I gasped his name and bucked beneath him, my sex clenching around his.
“Gods. I—” He pumped into me. Firm, fast thrusts. Then he stilled, and with a groan, pressed in so deep he touched my womb, and came.
I wrapped myself around him, trying to imprint everything about this on my brain. The earthy smell of sex. His lightly furred chest against my breasts. The slamming of his heart. His forehead touching mine as he hung over me, taking ragged breaths.
A minute passed, maybe longer, before he lifted off me. I wanted to tighten my arms and legs around him, to keep him where he was, but I forced myself to relax my hold and let him go.
He lay on his back beside me. Our hands touched, and he interlaced his fingers in mine.
I stared at the ceiling, my insides still humming. Gradually, my awareness centered on our intertwined hands. A simple, casual touch that Rafe had probably done without thinking about it.
But I couldn’t recall the last time anyone had held my hand. I couldn’t even remember the last time someone had touched me with affection.
Étan didn’t count. When he touched me, it was to control me. And Victorine’s caresses seemed calculated, a reminder that I was her subordinate.
Sadness scraped my throat.
Don’t start. This can’t go anywhere, and you know it.
I swallowed the sorrow and turned my head to smile at Rafe. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
16
RAFE
Paris after dark is a vampire’s paradise, a chic metropolis that’s always awake, always on.
We took a taxi to the Left Bank, where I’d booked us into a different hotel. The summer night was hot and humid and crowded with humans. They dined at sidewalk cafés or strolled along the Seine River, its black water shimmering in the moonlight. Amber lights glowed along the tree-lined boulevards, and steamy music spilled from cramped little bars.
Our new hotel was on a narrow street in the Fifth Arrondissement.
“Breakfast is served from seven to ten a.m.” The clerk handed me a key card to a room on the fourth floor and directed us to a coffin-sized elevator.
I pressed the button. The elevator descended slowly, groaning and grumbling the entire way, before heaving to a stop with a rattle and a thump.
