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Alejandro took them into Boston, to one of the oldest and most coveted areas, and let them off in front of a brand-new skyscraper. Car doors were opened for them, and a cavalcade of doormen opened at least two doors more than they required to enter the building.
Rafe lifted a hand at one of the concierges who approached him as soon as he entered.
“Mr. Loring,” the man said by way of greeting.
“I’ll let us up, Ray, thanks,” he told the suited man, who backed off immediately. Apparently, Ray was very good at being discrete.
Rafe led Abbe directly to what she realized was a private elevator. He touched a black panel on the wall with a card and the doors closed. They started ascending. There were no buttons on the wall, and no numbers, just the letters PH glowing on the otherwise all-black panel. Moments later the doors opened directly into what Abbe could only think of as a glass palace in the sky.
She actually said, “Wow.”
“It’ll do,” Rafe said with a smirk, taking her hand and pulling her into the foyer, and around a marble plinth of some sort that had a massive urn with an exploding flower arrangement on it that was bigger than Abbe was.
“Nice flowerpot,” she teased, but Rafe wasn’t in the mood for teasing.
He pulled her against him, one hand in her hair and the other on the small of her back as he opened her mouth with his. She flattened her hands across his chest, feeling the heat of him through his clothes. She took fistfuls of his shirt and pulled upward. He obliged by lifting his arms so she could undress him, walking her backward down the hallway as they rocked back and forth, almost like dancing.
Deciding they were moving too slowly, he stepped back and took her hand, pulling her down a hallway behind him. Abbe was vaguely aware of Daisy following them as they passed oil canvasses on the walls and modern chandeliers that resembled dewdrops of glowing crystals, falling from the ceiling. Walls of windows were out there somewhere too, across a vast expanse of understated but sumptuous furniture. Rafe hurried her past it all and opened double doors into a master suite that had its own bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. The city of Boston was just turning on its lights in the twinkling near dark of twilight many stories below them.
“Get that gorgeous ass in my bed,” Rafe said, pushing her back onto the huge expanse of silky material and perfectly arranged pillows. As Abbe giggled and scooted said gorgeous ass back, he briefly turned away and said gently, “Go lie down, Daisy,” over his shoulder while undoing his pants.
Abbe pulled her top up, unhooked her bra, and was starting in on the button of her jeans when Rafe climbed over her.
“Faster,” he ordered, shucking off her jeans.
She didn’t even have a chance to lie back before his hands were spreading her legs apart and his dark head was lowering between them. She dug her fingers into the mattress, throwing her head back as he sucked her clit and slid two fingers inside her.
“Rafe?” Her voice shook. “I can’t—I don’t want to come yet."
“Okay,” he breathed. He sat up so he could see her opening up for him. “Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he groaned, moving his fingers in and out of her, never taking his eyes off her.
She sat up and grabbed his cock. “Now,” she told him, pushing him onto his back so she could get on top. She worked just the tip of him in and out of her, allowing herself to open up. “You’re so thick,” she gasped.
He reached up and grabbed both her breasts, flicking his thumbs over the nipples. “Come on—take it all,” he begged, trying to thrust upward into her more deeply.
She let herself sink onto him slowly, rocking back and forth as she did so, and was rewarded with a ragged moan from Rafe. It was her turn to pin him beneath her, and she clasped his hips between her thighs, grinding herself against him.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said, pushing and pulling her hips harder. “Take what you need.”
She braced herself on his shoulders until her orgasm forked through her like lightning. The cry that came out of her wasn’t high and helpless, but deep and guttural as it rose up and out of her thrown-back head, her jaw opening so wide she heard it crack.
“Abbe,” Rafe kept repeating as he caught her suddenly boneless body and shifted her around so he was on top.
Three thrusts, and his body was tensing and twisting over hers until he fell, as pliant and spent as she was. They lay quietly next to each other, just breathing and feeling.
“I meant for that to last longer,” he admitted, sounding chagrinned.
“No, I couldn’t wait,” she replied. “I would have killed you if tried.”
She saw his chest dancing with a soundless laugh. “Good way to die,” he mumbled. Then he looked over at her, curled on her side next to him. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh my god, yeah,” she said. “I’m perfect.”
A little smile softened his lips. “Yes, you are.”
The room got dark and Rafe finally rolled over and tapped the edge of his bed. A light came up from behind the headboard, making the wall behind it glow. Abbe pulled her knees up and let them sway from side to side.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
