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“Oh God.” Mortified. And here I thought crying was embarrassing. Gah. “Put me down. Where’s my purse?”
“I have your purse. Just open the door.”
I put my hand in my pocket, find my key, and turn in his hold to unlock. It feels so weird, doing it from my perch high off the ground, my other arm around his neck. Like I’m a child.
Makes my heart clench. Because although Rafe makes me feel one hundred percen
t woman, I sometimes want to crawl in his arms, like this, and hide.
He pushes the door open and steps inside, hefting me like I weigh nothing. He turns, kicks the door closed, and continues into the living room, his strides long and confident.
A meow sounds from somewhere at the vicinity of his feet, and he slows down.
“Hi, Raf,” he says.
He remembered the kitty’s name. I hide a smile on his shoulder as he crosses the living room and heads unerringly for my bedroom. He turns around when he enters its dimness, shoves the door closed, muttering something about cats, then walks over to my bed and lays me down on top of the covers.
Still bent over me, he strokes long strands of hair out of my eyes, and all I can think of is, man, this is a damn strong boy. A damn handsome boy, and his face is so close, so tempting. As he leans over me, I bury my fingers in the soft hair of his nape and draw him down to kiss his mouth.
He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, then he captures my mouth. He kinda falls over me, bracing his hands at my sides not to crush me, and kisses me deeply, his tongue thrusting past my lips to stroke mine.
Nothing tastes like him. I can’t get enough. I clutch at his shoulders as he kisses me harder. His tongue strokes deeper inside my mouth, bold and aggressive, sending bolts of pleasure down my belly. His strong body is stretched over mine and, as he shifts, his hard-on presses into me, urgent and insistent. Even through the layers of cloth, I think I feel metal bars.
He’s pierced?
The thought makes me moan deep in my throat, and clench deep inside. I pull him to me, to feel him closer. I desire him like I’ve never desired anyone before.
He groans and pulls away, breaking the kiss. “Oh shit,” he breathes.
“I want you,” I whisper. I swallow hard.
Never said that to anyone before, just like that. I bite my lip. What the hell am I doing? A harsh word from him could break me now.
He bends his head, breathing harshly. “Damn, girl. Why can’t I stop kissing you, touching you? You’re like an addiction, and I thought I was done with addictions.”
My breathing hitches. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“There’s,” he licks my mouth, making my eyes roll with pleasure, “nothing bad about you. It’s all good.” He moves down, his hot mouth trailing on my neck. “The bad is all in me,” he whispers, kneeling between my legs.
Without giving a chance for that to sink in, or for me to formulate an answer, he pulls up my sweater, and puts his mouth on my breasts.
Only this time he’s not doing a quick sweep on his way down. He nuzzles them, then tugs down the straps of my bra until he bares them. I shudder when he cups them, lifts them and blows on my nipples. They are already hard and achy, and when he takes one in his mouth, my back arches off the bed.
God I’m so ready for him. It’s as if the orgasm he gave me back at his apartment earlier today—jeez, was it only today?—made me crave more, burn for his touch.
Addiction. I could say the same about him.
While he licks one nipple, he rubs his thumb over the other, and I choke on a moan. My hips lift as I try to find some friction, to release the painful pressure inside me. But he doesn’t indulge me, instead sucking on my nipple, then switching to the other until I’m rocking underneath him, moaning shamelessly his name.
My body is on fire. Even though I’ve never had any real pleasure from sex, I would give anything right now to have him push inside me. Just the image is enough to send pulses of pleasure down inside. I clutch at his shoulders, shifting restlessly on the mattress, my pulse beating between my legs. Oh God, I think I’m going to come just from the feel of his mouth on my breasts.
As if sensing how close I am, he stops, gives my throbbing nipple one long lick, and lifts his head. His eyes seem to glimmer in the half-light. He passes his tongue over his lips, and then he’s kissing me, one hand coming down next to my head, the other unzipping my jeans and slipping inside my panties.
I moan in his mouth as his rough fingers stroke up and down my seam, and I let my legs fall open. Granting him better access to do what he will with me. I trust him, know he will make me feel good, take care of me.
His tongue thrusts into my mouth just when his fingers push into me. My back lifts clear off the bed as I come, my body going off like a firework, breaking into glitter.
He breaks the kiss, panting harshly, and I’m still writhing with the aftershocks, riding the last waves of pleasure. His fingers move in and out of me, drawing it out.
