“I am not angry. There are no words in your language to describe what I am. The Gorthians call it hrul chathka, the black flame that devours. But even that is inadequate.” He took a step closer. “Do you have any idea the torment I have suffered imagining you helpless and at the mercy of the djegrali? Terrified that you might already be dead? You left me. To make matters worse, I have been forced to spend an eternity of an afternoon with that idiot brother of yours because he knew where to find you.”
“Which idiot brother?”
Bunny jumped as Rafe threw back his head and roared, the veins in his neck bulging. “Never mind which brother! Did you hear what I said? I was afraid. I, a Dalvahni warrior! I have faced death countless times and in many forms, but I have never known fear until I met you.”
Bunny felt a wave of remorse at his words. And at the same time a flicker of hope. He had come after her. He was afraid for her. Surely that meant he cared for her a little.
“So, you and Cam followed me here?”
“ ’Twas Cooper.”
“He dropped you off and went back home?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Yes.”
“I’m glad you came after me.” She smiled up at him.
“And I’m sorry you were worried. But I had a few things to think about.”
His eyes glittered, fever bright. “You left me.”
“I know. But it’s not every day a girl finds out her husband is a demi-god and she’s had a supernatural makeover.”
“I am not a demi-god.”
She waved her hand. “Close enough for government work. The point is, I’ve had a bad day, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have run away.”
“No, you should not have.”
“And I’m sorry.”
“You should be. You will not run from me again.”
It was a statement, not a question. She straightened her shoulders. “Of course not. I learn from my mistakes.”
“That is good to know. Now take off your shirt.”
Bunny blinked. “What?”
“I can see your nipples and the soft sway of your breasts through the thin cloth of the garment you are wearing. I have had a bad day, too, Bunny. If you are truly sorry, take off your shirt.”
Chapter Ten
Her eyes widened and her soft mouth went slack with surprise. Fury, relief and raw, aching need churned within him. He ached to bury himself in Bunny’s tender body and spill his hot frustration into her sweet flesh. Only Bunny could soothe his torment. He clenched his jaw to keep from howling. He was rock hard and ready to explode. Never had he felt so out of control. What was happening to him?
She was afraid and bewildered. Moments ago, he’d sensed her fear and uncertainty as he stalked her across the porch. Part of him exulted in it. He wanted her to know some portion of what he’d felt since meeting her.
Rage was good, a natural response to danger and adrenaline. Rage he understood. He fought to hold onto his anger. It was his lifeline in the turmoil of emotion this woman wrought within him.
She stepped away from the railing and, in one fluid motion, pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. His throat tightened as he drank in the sight of her. She was balm to his thirsty soul, a moon goddess with her shining hair floating around her shoulders and her pale, smooth skin gleaming in the darkness. She stood proudly before him, her small breasts high and firm and round. They would fill the palms of his hands perfectly, he knew. Her rosy nipples taunted him, begging him to take them in his mouth. He longed for the taste of them and the soft, breathy sounds of pleasure she would make as he licked her creamy flesh.
Below her high rib cage, her tiny waist flared above slim hips. A triangle of white cloth covered her mons. His gaze lingered there and his mouth went dry. She would be tight when he entered her and she would give him pleasure. Such pleasure. Like he’d known with no other.
Soon, very soon, he would have her again. But first he must regain control. A Dalvahni warrior knew discipline and restraint. A Dalvahni warrior did not fall upon a woman like a ravenous beast, no matter how great his need. He could do this. He would have Bunny, ease some of his burning lust and empty himself of these damnable feelings.
Lust; that is all this is, he thought through the roaring in his ears. He needed sex. The Dalvahni were known for their sexual prowess and it had been hours since he and Bunny had lain together.
He would request assignment in Hannah to protect Bunny and her loved ones. He would enjoy the company and pleasure of his wife. But he would remain detached.
His wife. She was his. The knowledge blazed through him.
“Turn around,” he said through clenched teeth.
Control. He must maintain control.
Stepping up to him, she pushed the open shirt off his shoulders and rubbed her palms across his chest. “Bossy.”
He nearly groaned aloud at her touch.
“But I think I like it.” His shirt drifted to the floor and her hands moved to the top button of his trousers. “You are something else, Rafe Dalvahni. All hard muscle. So sleek and powerful. Totally yummy. Have I ever told you that?”
He gritted his teeth as her fingers stroked him through the fabric of his trousers. “Bunny, how can I restrain myself if you continue to—”
He forgot everything. Forgot not to groan, forgot the demands of discipline and his Dalvahni detachment. Forgot what he was about to say as she dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants and took him in her mouth. “Bunny, cara,” he said as her tongue worked the hot length of him.
It felt so good, the heated, wet warmth of her mouth and tongue and teeth upon him. Almost more than he could bear.
“Did I mention I am sorry?” She looked up at him, his moon goddess, through her lashes as her wicked tongue laved his hardness. She trailed the flat of her tongue along his hot flesh. The combination of her mouth and the soft, cooling caress of the salty breeze from the ocean nearly sent him over the edge. “Really, really sorry?”
He clenched his jaw. He could do this. He was Dalvahni. He would not lose control. He would not—
She gave him a last, torturous lick and suckled him. The steady, intoxicating pull of her mouth nearly brought him to his knees.
He looked down at her. She had one hand wrapped around him while her eager tongue circled the head of his shaft. It was too much, seeing her on her knees with her sweet mouth on his cock. It made him feel powerful and tender, all at the same time.
It made him crazy.
He jerked her to her feet. Wrapping his hand in her long hair, he tilted her head back and kissed her, his tongue ravaging her open mouth. She tasted sweet as honey and he was a starving man. He could not get enough of her.
Too rough, too rough, a distant voice warned, but he was too far gone to pull back from the precipice. He needed her, needed her now or he would lose his mind.
She pressed her naked breasts against him and kissed him back. She was heaven. She was sanctuary. She was his salvation. The tips of her nipples grazed his chest and her hair was glossy silk between his fingers. He breathed in the scent of her soap and the warm, heady fragrance that was hers alone.
His roving hands slid down her naked back to the slim curve of her bottom. He hooked his thumbs inside the scrap of cloth at her hips and tugged. The flimsy garment fell to her ankles.
She kicked it aside with a flick of her foot. Her flawless skin was milky in the moonlight. The wind off the water stroked her naked body, tightening her nipples to puckered buds. She smiled up at him, the promise of fulfillment and untold delight in the curve of her ripe mouth.
Something twisted deep inside of him. “I cannot wait, Bunny. I need you now.” The blood pounded in his head and in his cock. “I fear I cannot be gentle.”
“Shh.” She traced his bottom lip with her finger. “I’m a big girl. You won’t break me, but I sure as hell want you to try.”
He gave a shaky laugh. “Is that a command, milady?”
“Damn straig
ht it is.”
He set his hands on her waist and turned her around. She was so soft, so fragile, the essence of femininity. And yet she had the power to leave him weak with lust and longing for things he did not understand.
She grabbed the porch railing and arched her back. Her legs were slightly spread and the sweet, pink flesh between her thighs beckoned. He cupped her and nearly shouted with relief. She was wet and ready for him, thank the gods.
With a growl he thrust inside her. She clenched him tight as a fist. The sensation was so exquisite he nearly spent himself right then and there. Murmuring words of endearment and encouragement, he began to move. She answered back with a breathy moan. He moved faster and she moved with him, stroke for stroke.
“Rafe,” she cried. The muscles of her snug channel tightened around him.
He looked down at them. His bronzed hands gripped her alabaster bottom. She was beautiful, so beautiful, and they were connected flesh to flesh.
He pulled out and sank back in. The sight of him entering her softness was the most erotic experience of his centuries-long life.
He felt a sudden, savage urge to mark her as his. Though it nearly killed him to stop, he pulled out again. Leaning over, he brushed her long hair aside and nipped the back of her neck.
“Do you like the things I do to you, Bunny?” he murmured against her ear. “Do you like the way I make you feel?”
“Yes, Rafe. You know I do.” She twisted in his grasp and tried to turn.
He put his hands on her hips. “No, be still.” He stroked the delicate curve of her back. “If you want me, tell me.”
“Dammit, Rafe, I—”
“Tell me.”
She was panting. “I want you, Rafe.”
With his tongue, he soothed the red spot he’d made on her neck and nipped her again. “I like it when you say that, Bunny. I like it very much. Say it again.”
She arched against him. “I want you, Rafe. Please. Now.” He plunged inside her. With a cry, she pulsed around him. It was his undoing.
With a hoarse shout, he spilled himself into her body. She climaxed again in a long, rippling spasm and went limp.
He lifted her against him, his chest to her back, and wrapped his hands around her plump breasts. He could feel the rapid flutter of her heartbeat against his palm. A bittersweet ache bloomed in his chest.
They were still joined.
He closed his eyes.
It was not enough.
It would never be enough.
Chapter Eleven
Bunny tilted her head against the side of the garden tub and closed her eyes. The warm water felt wonderful. She and Rafe had been doing it like . . . well, like bunnies, for the past four days. He was insatiable. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.
She couldn’t get enough of him either. He was her own personal drug, exhilarating, intoxicating and highly addictive. The more she had him the more she wanted him. They’d made love all over the house. In the master bedroom’s big four-poster bed, in the living room on the faux fur rug, in the shower, on the kitchen table and on the beach under a canopy of stars.
The memory of their wedding night still made her shiver with delight. Rafe stalking her across the porch, his beautiful features taut with strain. The hot words he whispered in her ear as he drove his body into hers, sending her over the edge. It was always the same way with him. One touch, one word, one look, and she was history.
Who would have thought that boring little Bunny Raines, small-town librarian, would turn out to be a world-class nympho?
Only she was Bunny Dalvahni now. She kept forgetting she was a married woman.
She frowned. Why was that? Was it because she didn’t love her husband? Nah, she was crazy about the big galoot.
The answer drifted up from her subconscious.
You don’t feel married because you know it’s not going to last. He likes having sex with you, but he doesn’t love you. He’s going to leave you and break your heart to smithereens.
Bunny shifted uncomfortably in the tub. Smart Bunny was running her mouth again. For the past few days, Dumb Bunny tried very hard to keep Smart Bunny locked tightly behind a big steel door in the back of her mind.
Unfortunately, in addition to being a know-it-all, Smart Bunny was an escape artist. Every now and then, in spite of Dumb Bunny’s best efforts, Smart Bunny picked the lock, broke free and ran her smart aleck mouth.
You keep hoping he’ll fall in love with you. Be honest. You married him to buy yourself some time. That’s why you haven’t told him about the baby. You want him to love you, but you don’t want to trap him. Grow up and stop being such a hopeless romantic. Tell him and he’ll stay.
“You are frowning. What has made you unhappy?” Bunny’s eyes flew open. Rafe stood near the garden tub looking down at her, his arms crossed on his bare chest. She hadn’t heard him come in. No surprise there. The man moved like a freaking ghost.
She soaked in the sight of him. Wow, he was gorgeous. He wore a pair of shorts that rode his lean hips and no shirt. Turned out their suitcases were in the back of the Caddy the whole time, along with her purse. She never thought about looking in the trunk.
Duh. Sometimes she really was a dumb bunny.
“Just thinking.” Her gaze moved from his bare feet and up his powerful legs to his muscular abdomen. She wanted to pour champagne on his stomach and lap it out of the ridges. Too bad she couldn’t drink. “Where have you been?”
“I went to the market to purchase a few things.”
Her cheeks burned. She’d gone on a binge after one of their love-making marathons and cleaned out the refrigerator. These pregnancy cravings of hers were off the charts.
Luckily, they were infrequent. Otherwise the grocery bill would have been astronomical. She ate like a squad of football players at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
How embarrassing.
“That’s sweet, Rafe, but I would have gone to the store.” A sudden thought made her sit up in the tub. “Wait a minute. Did you go to the store like that?”
His gaze shifted to her naked breasts and stayed there. “Like what?”
“Like not wearing a shirt.”
“Yes. Is there a problem with my attire?”
“Damn right there’s a problem. You can’t go around wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.”
“I cannot? Why?”
“Because you’re a vagina magnet, that’s why. It’s a miracle you didn’t get molested. You’re sex on a cracker. You’re gonna give some poor woman a heart attack. A whole herd of women. Do you want that on your conscience?”
“I suppose not.”
She waved her hands. “Besides, it’s not fair to me. Some chick lays a paw on you, and I go to jail.”
He lifted his gaze from her breasts to her face. Finally. Sheesh, he was such a guy.
“Bunny, are you, per chance, jealous? I have heard of this emotion.”
She rolled her eyes and slid back down in the tub. “Jealous, me? Why, just because you’re crazy hot and an orgasm walking? No way.”
“Have you finished your bath?”
“Yes.”
“Stand up and I will dry you off.”
The hot look in his eyes made her shiver with anticipation. She knew that look. He wanted her. And God knows she wanted him. She’d been living in Nympho Land since they met.
She rose, dripping, from the tub.
“Stop,” he said.
He stepped closer and licked the tops of her breasts, his tongue brushing her damp skin in a wicked, sensual dance.
His restless fingers teased the underside of her breasts. His hands were big and strong, like the rest of him. The rough stroke of his skin on hers was sweet agony. God, he got her going. Little pulses of desire throbbed in her belly and between her legs. Bending his head, he touched one of her nipples with his tongue, and then the other. Her breasts tightened in response and the throbbing between her legs increased.
“What are you doing?”
she murmured, swaying toward him.
“Drying you off.”
“With your tongue?” Her knees nearly buckled as he dragged an open-mouthed kiss along her collarbone and down her wet shoulders. “Don’t you think a towel would be faster?”
“Faster is not always better.” He lifted her out of the tub and set her on her feet. “Or as satisfying.”
Bending his head, he nibbled and licked the tender skin of her wrists and kissed his way up her arms to her throat.
“Turn around,” he said in her ear.
The deep, husky sound of his voice wrapped her brain in a sensuous haze. Her breath quickened and her skin tingled.
“Bunny?” Her knees threatened to buckle as his hot tongue explored the skin along her jaw. His teeth grazed her ear lobe. “Are you going to turn around?”
“I . . . I don’t think I can.”
He chuckled and, placing his hands on her shoulders, spun her gently around. Then he proceeded to devote equal and meticulous attention to licking and kissing the moisture off her back and the curve of her rump. At last, when she was weak and shaking with need, he turned her to face him once again. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he pressed his cheek to her stomach.
“Rafe.” She stroked his garnet locks with trembling fingers. “Rafe, I love you so much.”
It was the truth, though she’d promised not to say it. Not anymore, not for his sake. It was unfair to burden him with the weight of words and feelings he could not return.
But she loved him with all of her heart. She was overflowing with love for him, and she wanted him to know, to carry the knowledge with him when he left.
Oh, God, when he left.
He seemed to sense her distress, because his arms tightened around her. “Shh.” He moved his head back and forth, dragging his lips and tongue across her abdomen. Her muscles twitched in response as he circled and licked the shallow indention of her navel. “No words. There are no words.”
Yes, there are. But you won’t say them. You can’t say them. In her experience, it was hard for most men to express their feelings. Her daddy and her brothers loved her, she had no doubt. But they had a hard time saying the words. Just her rotten luck to fall in love with the most emotionally handicapped male of them all. Tears burned the back of her eyes.
So I Married A Demon Slayer Page 23