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He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to shove his cock deep inside her willing body and take her, pleasure her, wanted to empty himself inside her and fill her tight cunt with his come.
But he was willing to wait if it helped him achieve his new goal.
When she’d walked out of his bedroom after their argument, he’d kicked himself for not handling things better. He’d wanted to protect her, and all he’d done was piss her off.
Admittedly, his marriage proposal could have been smoother. And better timed. It certainly wasn’t how he’d envisioned proposing to the girl of his dreams, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
He would keep her safe.
Pushing himself into a seated position, Rafe ditched the grin and leaned against the bedhead, then yawned, feigning disinterest. “I said everynightfor a month,” he said, scratching his naked chest. “And you didn’t hit Ollie with a knife, so it doesn’t count.”
She folded her arms across her chest in an obvious move to emphasise her perky little tits, and her features set into what Rafe referred to as “full Jane mode”.
A smug, knowing smile tugged at her lips, green fire burned in her narrowed gaze, and her chin lifted with an argumentative tilt. Her debating skills were impressive, so much so he’d happily set her loose in a courtroom full of barristers just so he could sit back and watch as she ate them alive.Popcorn, anyone?
“You never said I had to hit him with a knife.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling again. “It was implied.”
She raised one brow. “But not specified.”
He’d give her that one and acquiesced with a nod. “So… you want me to eat your pussy, huh? Does that mean you accept my marriage proposal?”
She scoffed. “I think you mean do I accept your demand to marry you,” she retorted, “and the answer is still no.” She anchored one hand on her hip and jabbed one finger in his direction with the other. “And you never said anything about eating my pussy being conditional on any of that marriage malarkey. We struck that deal well and truly before any of that other nonsense. It’s a completely separate contract.”
“We never shook hands on it,” Rafe said, enjoying himself way more than he should have been.
“It was a verbal contract, which I committed to when I punched Ollie in the arm.”
Jane folded her arms across her chest again, that time because she was in a snit, not because she was trying to boost her assets. But she managed to distract him all the same. More so because the action was natural and not a calculated move, which was so much sexier.
“Or are you saying you’re not a man of your word?”
A sudden urge to rip the rest of her clothes off and sink his tongue deep inside her sweet pussy had him slipping from the bed and prowling towards her.
Slowly he backed her up until she was pressed flush against the door, then reached around her to lock it.
Pressing his palms flat against the wooden door, he caged her between his outstretched arms. “I always keep my word, beautiful,” he said, lowering his voice to the soft growl he knew turned her on. As he watched her chest swell with a sharp intake of breath, he knew it had worked. “Put your hands behind your head and leave them there.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She tried to sound tough, but her voice came out breathy, sexy. Spots of pale pink coloured her cheeks, darkened her throat and ears.
Lips lifting in a predatory smirk, he murmured, “But you like it when I tell you what to do.”
“I do not,” she said, glaring up at him.
Her arms stayed glued to her sides, her hands clenched in fists, and he knew what game she was playing. She was trying to force a reaction out of him, get him riled enough that he’d put his hands all over her and force the issue, give her exactly what she wanted so she could be on her merry way.
But he wasn’t playing that game anymore.
Rafe was playing for keeps.
“No?” he said, cocking one brow. “So you’re saying if I were to slide my hand inside your panties right now, I wouldn’t find you wet?”
The muscles worked in her throat. “No.”
“No, you’re not saying that, or no, your pussy isn’t wet? Be specific, please.”
Her head fell back against the door with a softthunk, her eyes narrowed on his face. “No, my pussy isn’t wet.” Then her lips turned up at the corners and she slid her hands up his chest. “That’s why I need your tongue.”
