by C. C. Gibbs
Every nerve and heated bit of flesh, every functioning brain cell, was stimulated, then overstimulated, her arousal at fever pitch, prodigal surfeit surging through her body so wildly she began to shake.
Quickly adjusting the angle of penetration, Rafe brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Better?”
Eyes shut, her fingers tangled in his dark hair, she nodded.
“Ready to go over the edge?” His voice was a low rasp.
She twisted her fingers more tightly in his hair.
A slightly painful, but recognizable answer. He zeroed his dick in on her sensitive little G-spot nerves, focusing on a gentle, consistent pressure, on the smooth, silken friction, withdrawing marginally against her frantic resistance, slowly plunging back in to her grateful sighs. Until soon, she was shuddering on the frenzied brink, and he was contemplating clear sailing to the orgasmic shore when he was brought up short by a brutal jerk on his hair.
“Now, now, now!” she cried.
Christ, he’d probably lost some hair. But that wasn’t all he’d lost. He’d been on his best behavior for too long or maybe he didn’t know what good behavior was. Or maybe she’d simply given him one too many orders. “You want something?” he said sharply. “Open your eyes. Tell me and I’ll think about it.”
Suddenly he was looking into an angry blue gaze. “Don’t fucking scream,” he growled. “Ask me nicely.”
She glared at him and shoved at his shoulders. “Why don’t I find someone who doesn’t make me work for a fuck?”
“That wasn’t nice.” Spinning around, her weight incidental to a man his size, he strode toward the stairs.
“Ask me if I care,” she muttered, fighting to break his grip. “There’re plenty of parties in town besides yours and I’ve met a lot of—Oh shit.” Her struggles had only deepened his penetration, ignited potent little shimmers of arousal, provoked an unwelcome deluge of slick need.
He smiled. “My party looking more interesting?”
She stared at him sullenly. “Screw you.”
“You’ll be screwing me all right,” he drawled, not even breathing hard as he took the stairs in a run. “You’ve been in the driver’s seat too long, tiger. Time for a change.”
“I thought everything wasn’t a personal challenge,” she snapped.
“You haven’t learned when to stop pushing. I’ll teach you.”
“Like hell you will.”
Rafe laughed, his extraordinary eyes fixed on her. “Let me explain a few things to you,” he said gently. “You know—clear the static.” Ignoring her eye roll, he continued in the same extrasoft tone that those who knew him well recognized as dangerous. “First, I outweigh you by at least a hundred pounds. A Neanderthal standard, I know, but reality. Second, I’m guessing I can change your mind.” He smiled faintly. “What with your interest in my dick and a talent I’ve acquired over the years that recognizes when no means yes. And, finally, you won’t find anyone else handy tonight, so I suggest you humor me if you want sex.”
“Maybe I don’t want sex.” Even to her ears, her response lacked the slightest evidence of sincerity. But then his enormous erection was rocking against her highly stimulated nerve endings with each racing step and it took real effort not to openly pant.
“Sure you do,” he said, walking swiftly down the hall. “Do you think I can’t feel how wet you are?”
Annoyed by his insolence, not to mention his long-legged stride that was obliterating the last of her self-control, she punched his arm hard. “Put me down, damn it! You think every woman wants you! I don’t!”
Rafe came to a screeching halt, dropped her on her feet, dipped his head until their eyes were level, and said very, very softly, “Fucking grow up. I’m not interested in your juvenile prick teasing. Who the hell are you kidding? You want to get off. We both know it.” He took a small sustaining breath because his dick was aching like a son of a bitch and he had to fight the urge to throw her down on the nearest flat surface and fuck her until he dropped.
“I brought my trusty vibrator, so getting off’s not a problem,” she said, pissy as hell. “And FYI, I decide who I want to fuck and when, not the other way around. I suppose you point and choose.” She smiled tightly, then lifted her chin and held his gaze. “Maybe I do too. Maybe that’s our problem—command and control, no begging.” She paused, wondering if she was letting her temper get out of hand and missing out on some fine ass, but decided a second later that, bottom line, she didn’t do submission. “So.” She stood, eyes blazing, beautiful and casually nude before him. “Regardless that you have a prize dick—and you do—it’s not the only dick in the world. I’ll live without it.”
“Are you done?” She was really magnificent, confident and forceful, hotter than hell; he began thinking, Indefinite stay.
“You find this amusing?”
“A little.” But he stifled his smile in the interest of future orgasms. “You’re naked. In my house. It’s a long walk into town, although you probably wouldn’t have any trouble getting a ride.” Since she looked like she was getting ready to strangle him, he quickly curtailed his litany of obstacles to her leaving. “Forgive me, that was rude.”
She snorted. “You think? And I have clothes.”
He bit back his first ten comments that had to do with his personal power and authority.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“I brought clothes with me.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And I could call a cab. I have my phone.”
“You’re very resourceful,” he said, in lieu of mentioning that none of that mattered.
“Fucking A, you arrogant prick.”
His eyes went flat and for a second he didn’t move for fear he’d do something uncivil. “Have you ever thought about bottling that in-your-face shit you specialize in? I’m sure there’s a market for it.”
“You don’t like women to talk, I suppose.”
“Usually not when I have a raging hard-on.”
“Why don’t I leave you to deal with it?” She turned away.
He grabbed her wrist and jerked her back. “Just a minute,” he said as politely as he could when the urge to explode was almost overwhelming.
She looked down at his fingers circling her wrist, then up at his face, one brow arched in derision. “Do I have a choice?”
Faced with salvaging a situation that would be personally satisfying in terms of sexual gratification, he didn’t question his venal self-interest; his belief system was rudimentary. Ignoring her sarcasm, he smiled. “I apologize if I offended you. I didn’t mean to. And since you’re the oldest of your siblings, you’re more familiar with giving orders.” He looked at her directly, bowed his head a little. “I should remember that.”
Her eyes widened a fraction, like one would on seeing a unicorn decked out in gold sequins. “Seriously? You’re apologizing?”
“I am.” He smiled warmly. “Tell me you forgive me.”
She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know if I believe you. But fuck—it’s tempting.”
“How tempting?” He grinned. “Make sure you consider my prize dick before answering. He’s waiting to make you happy.”
She sighed. “You’re just too goddamn beautiful, if you must know. How’s that for stupid?”
He understood what was left unsaid—about the women, the unending women. And for the first time in his life he recognized the discomfort of need, of desire, of truly wanting someone. “You should talk. I’m ready to punch out any man who comes near you. And that’s really stupid.”
“Jesus, I don’t like to be this confused. I like to be able to say thanks and walk away.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, pussycat. But I suggest we put our past behavior aside for the next month, not let it get in the way, and enjoy our crazy new feelings. What do you say?”
She pursed her lips; the silence lengthened.
“I’ll let you come whenever you want.”
Sh
e laughed. “Christ, are you laying down your last card?”
He shrugged and made a wry face. “Let’s just say it’s a unique offer.”
“I don’t want to know.” She paused. “You understand?”
“Then you better tell me you’ve never been with a man,” he said defensively.
Her smile was pure innocence. “How did you know?”
His shoulders relaxed. “Because you have the tightest little pussy I’ve ever seen.” Suddenly feeling a surge of relief wash over him, he pulled her down the hall, swept her up in his arms when they reached his bedroom, and carried her to the bed.
He was inside her before she’d fully made contact with the mattress, filling her slowly and gently until her eyes shut and her small moan warmed his throat. “Do you like me better now?” he teased.
Looking up into his affectionate smile and tender gaze, she languidly smiled. “I like you as much as a girl can like a guy. Add a couple truck loads more likes and we’re in the ballpark.”
He winked. “Then my work is done.”
“It better not be.” But her voice was very mellow.
“Not for at least a month, pussycat. So enjoy the ride.” If someone had asked him what he was feeling, he couldn’t have explained. A woman had never mattered before, heart-felt sensation was a foreign concept, and the thought of a month with one female would have sent him into therapy. But he did know how to please a woman; sex was his forte. “Let me know when you’ve climaxed enough. If you don’t want to talk, hit me, okay? This is for you.”
She came the first time so quickly even he was surprised, and when she whispered, “I’m sorry,” he knew what she meant.
“Let’s make sure you feel this one.” Dipping his head, he lightly kissed her cheek. “We’ll make it last longer than five seconds.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “I’ll pay you back,” she promised softly, then her lashes fell as she absorbed the thick, rigid length of him with a low, sensual groan.
“You are already.” But she didn’t hear his throaty reply; he might not have wanted her to. He might have preferred not saying it at all, his sense of personal upheaval disturbing. But she made him feel a fierce, breathless pleasure he’d never felt before—like now… oh Jesus—like that. Then he slowly glided in and out in a prolonged rhythm of leisurely arousal, and after she began to pant in an exquisite little feverish cadence, when her frenzied, passionate cries reached fever pitch, he finally buried himself deep, deep inside her and went utterly still. A nanosecond later, her orgasm detonated, her scream filled the room, and he met her climax with his own explosive torrent, pouring into her in a wild, ferocious turbulence that left finger marks on her ass, a raw, deep-felt pleasure vibrating through his senses, and insufficient air in his lungs.
Braced on his forearms, gasping for breath, he dropped his forehead on the bed. Her body was exquisitely soft beneath him, her lush, gently pulsing warmth enveloping his dick, echoing the soul-stirring beat of his heart.
After long, hushed moments, he felt the warm flick of her tongue on his throat, and he lifted his head, shoved his hair out of his face, and looked at her with a smile of expanding delight.
“You’re incredible.” Rosy-cheeked and beautiful, she smiled up at him. “Not that you don’t know it, but add me to your fan list.”
“And you’re mind-blowing.” He grinned. “I never before knew what the word meant.”
“Don’t panic and run for the door, but I really like you,” she said simply.
“No panic. I like you too.” His voice was velvety soft. “It’s an amazing feeling, isn’t it?” His dark lashes veiled a portion of his eyes. “When so much in life is uncertain.”
“But not this—here, now… for us.” She smiled. “Too equivocal?”
“That’s life,” he said gruffly. “No guarantees.”
He suddenly looked so comfortless, she quickly redirected, like she always had when her younger siblings had been unhappy. “So what do you think comes first—the sex or the feelings?”
“Fuck if I know. Shit happens. You deal with it.” Scowling, he pushed up on his elbows, rolled away, and lay sprawled on his back, eyes shut.
That was grim. “I hate to bring this up,” she said, not sure of his response with his morose expression. “But I’m dripping all over your bed.”
His smile broke first, then his eyes opened and a second later he was propped on one elbow, grinning down at her. “Jesus, baby, you have no fucking filter, do you? But the drips are my fault, not yours. Don’t worry about it.” He bunched the sheet between her legs. “How’s that? We’ll take a shower later.” Another flashing grin. “Right now I have other plans—if you don’t mind, of course.”
She laughed; the contradictory, beguiling, playful man who charmed so easily was back. “As if it matters what I mind.”
“It does,” he said quietly. “It matters a lot.”
She gazed up at his strong jaw and fine straight nose, at the stark beauty of this man she found irresistible. Her chest constricted briefly and she knew how foolish it was to fall under his spell. Like being infatuated with a cinema star. “You don’t have to say that. I have no expectations.”
As though streaming the same strange, emotional vibe, he looked at her in mild disbelief, then sighed. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted badly. It offends me. It pleases me. It fucks me up.” He smiled. “In a good way. In a don’t-wake-me-up-if-I’m-dreaming way.”
She gave him a little bunny twitch of her nose in wordless agreement. “Sometimes I think this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Just because I’m way the hell outside my comfort zone,” she quickly added at his sudden scowl. “Not because of you. In fact, I may not leave quietly when you tire of me. Just a warning.” She looked at him calmly, neither helpless nor insecure. She never had been.
His dark brows came together in a brief pensive moment—turning her comment and it’s repercussions over in his mind. “Then we understand each other,” he said, his expression clearing, his gaze direct. “Because you won’t be leaving.”
Her mouth quirked. “This from a man with an ice cube policy?”
“I’m accountable to no one.” For a second, coolness darkened his eyes, then he blinked and smiled. “That’s my warning to you.”
Cocooned in a warm, sumptuous euphoria, she dismissed that momentary chill in his eyes and lazily stretched. “Have I mentioned how pleased I am to be here?”
“Not as pleased as I, tiger.” She was all female softness and willingness lying on his bed, tempting as Eve. He imagined winning the lottery felt like this. “Rest five minutes if you need to, otherwise”—he swept a hand toward his rampant erection and gave her a killer smile—“we’re ready.”
Chapter 14
“Actually, give me a minute,” he said, and rolled off the bed. “I’ll get some towels.”
As he walked away, she watched him just like a teenager with a crush. Funny, because she’d never experienced a wild fascination like that in school. Better late than never, she cheerfully decided, feeling the bewilderment and obsession, the wonder and thrill—taking pleasure in the sight of Rafe’s tall, athletic form, his powerful muscle and stark virility, his dark, sleek hair lightly brushing his shoulders as he moved with an easy grace.
Crossing the threshold of his dressing room, he spoke without turning. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Then he disappeared from sight.
“And no touching your pussy.”
Jerking back her hand, she looked up, expecting to see him since she had heard his voice so clearly. No; she was alone. But his curt command had sent another lustful shudder rippling through her senses, ratcheted up the throbbing between her legs, and made her question the human powers of speech when Rafe’s words alone could turn her into a desperate, sexified mess.
“Are you being good?”
His voice rang out over the sound of running water and she briefly debated the necessity of compliance. “Depends
what you mean by good,” she shouted back, taking a personal stand for female power. The bathroom lay beyond his dressing room. How would he know? What could he do if he did know? Fuck him.
Or not.
She hesitated, weighing her current cravings against the merits of waiting for Rafe to more substantively assuage her. Meanwhile, her warming passions were morphing into a frantic ache, the echo of his provocative orders reverberating through every erogenous zone in her body. Fretful and restless, in an uneasy limbo with personal independence and pleasure at odds, she tersely swore, then rolled over on her stomach, cupped her pussy in her palms, and flexed her hips into the mattress.
Her low moan was whisper soft.
Yet of conspicuous significance to the man walking into the bedroom.
“I’m back just in time I see,” Rafe said with a grin, tossing the towels on the bed. “Hands where I can see them. Now.”
The soft hint of a reprimand in his voice shouldn’t make her cream her pussy, nor incite an almost unbearable horniness. Or conversely—mess with her head, when acquiescing would set precedents she didn’t want to set.
“I can help you.” His voice was silken, assured, as if he were witness to her internal debate. “All you have to do is move your hands where I can see them. There you go… that’s the way.”
As she slowly drew her hands out and placed them at her sides, he felt a staggering pleasure out of all proportion to the simple event. Perhaps the California-girl wholesomeness pouring off Nicole stoked something untapped inside him or maybe her cheeky defiance offered an even rarer challenge. Or maybe he just needed to get laid. Regardless of the reasons, at the moment she was compliant and his for the taking. “Roll over and spread your legs.”
After a small, defensive pause that didn’t surprise him, she did what he asked. “Thank you.” His chin rose. “You look delicious.”
“You do too. The waves are moving.” Her smile was warm and alive. “A lot.”
“He’s definitely on board.” His amber gaze glittered for a moment, wicked and edgy, then he slowly inhaled, reminding himself that this didn’t have to be complicated. So she pushed all his buttons. Chill. A rush is a rush. “We’re going to have to make room for my ink.” And he arranged her legs to his satisfaction—knees drawn up and apart. “You’re being very dutiful.” He ran his palms up her smooth inner thighs, slid his thumbs up her slick, swollen cleft, and smiled as she shivered. “You must want something.”