That gets Rafe’s attention. So does the swing of my hips as I move forward. Around this man? I feel pretty, no matter the bug bites and the bruises.
“What’s with the bucket?” Rafe asks me. He’s getting the hungry look in his eyes again, which makes me excited.
I bite my lip, reach into the soapy water, and lift the towel up and give it a squeeze. “Time for your sponge bath, just like I promised.”
His brows go up. “You going to play nurse for me, Ava?” He moves toward me, and I can tell that he’s excited about the thought. Everything in Rafe changes when he’s thinking about me. Even the way he moves is more predatory, more hungry.
And God, I fucking love it.
“That’s right,” I say, keeping my voice light. “I want to check your wounds over for myself, and make sure you’re squeaky clean before bedtime. So back onto the bed with you.”
His eyes flare with need, and he moves toward me to give me a kiss.
I neatly sidestep, because I’m in playful mode now. If we’re going to have sex, we’re going to have lots of foreplay first. “Naughty, naughty,” I tease. “If you want your bath, you’d better get in that bed pronto.”
The promise of a rubdown makes him climb into bed again, wincing at his wounds. He sits up on the edge of the bed and stares at me, impatient and hungry for touch.
But I’m a girl, and we are expert teases. I set the bucket of soapy water down on the nightstand and pick up a pillow instead. “Here. Let me help you get comfortable. Come lean back against the headboard and I’ll get you fixed up.” Rafe does as I ask, and then I direct him once more. “Lean forward and I’ll give you a pillow.”
He leans forward obediently, which lets me slide a pillow in behind his back. My objective is twofold, of course. I’m acutely aware of the abrasions and recent wounds on his back, no matter how patched. A pillow will help.
Also, it gives me a chance to stick my breasts in his face.
I do just that, making sure to rub them against his chest, and then his jaw as I pretend to fluff the pillow. My breasts are loose under the shirt, and he groans and reaches up to grab a handful.
I gasp, because it sends a bolt of heat rocketing through my body the moment he touches me, and his thumb grazes my nipple. He buries his face between my breasts and groans deep again. “Ava. Goddamn, sweet Ava.”
“You’re a very naughty patient,” I chide him and pull away, even though I want to cram my breasts back into his face and see if he’ll tongue my nipples. Flustered, I straighten my shirt and turn to my water bucket. My breasts feel aching and tight under the shirt, and I want to rip it off and climb all over him. Patience, Ava.
“You’re a torturer,” he rasps.
I wink at him. “Torture’s half the fun, baby.” With my good hand, I squeeze the towel and then lean forward. “Can I soap you now?” The V-neck of the T-shirt is probably giving him a good look at my cleavage, and when his gaze goes there, I know I’ve found yet another way to drive him insane.
“If you touch me,” he warns, “I might bust in my pants.”
“Then I’ll clean you up.” I sit on the edge of the bed and delicately trace the washcloth over his collarbones. Fact is, he’s a virgin. Sticking the tip in does not count—at least not in this scenario. I’m not expecting him to be more than a one-pump chump. At least, not the first time. There’s no expectations of screaming from the rafters from orgasm after orgasm. For me, this is about him, because I’m getting off on making him wild.
Sex doesn’t have to be about someone dicking you until you can’t stand. It can be about soft, sexy touches and playful words, and I want to show Rafe that. I want to show him that I don’t care about his scars, or the fact that he’s got an absurdly large (and kinda painful-looking) penis. Sex can just be about enjoying each other and enjoying what the other person offers.
Then it can be about him dicking me until I can’t stand up.
He closes his eyes as I drag the cloth over his chest. Rivulets of water move down that tanned skin, and my plan is suddenly working against me. Now I want to put my mouth on that skin, taste those warm muscles for myself. Bite his hard pectorals. Do all kinds of naughty, wicked things to the man. I sigh as I dip my cloth again and trace it down his belly. “You sure are a good-looking man, Rafe Mendoza.”
He cracks an eye open at me. “I’m scarred everywhere.”
“Chicks dig scars.”
He snorts.
“I’m serious. If I saw you at a party, I’d probably have to pick up my jaw.” I slide a wet finger over his belly button. “Those dark eyes, that thick hair, your gorgeous tan. Mmm.” He’s quiet, and when I look over at him again, the intense, aching need is back in his eyes. I know just how he feels. My pulse seems to be centered between his legs, and my nipples are aching for his mouth. I feel achy with need everywhere. All of this from a half-assed sponge bath and a promise of pleasure later.
No reason I can’t up the ante, though. “Why don’t you take those pants off so I can finish wiping you down?”
He hesitates, and my heart aches a little. I know he’s worried about Godzilla and his size. He’s worried about whatever happened in the past. Time to distract him again. This time, when I lift the towel from the bucket, I let it stay sloppy wet and drag it across my breasts, so the fabric of the shirt sticks to me. “Oops. Look what I did. How clumsy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RAFAEL
“Fuck, Ava, you are so beautiful.” I drag a hand over my suddenly parched mouth. I know what I want to wet it with, though.
“You’re a fan of post-jungle couture?” She waves a hand over her frame and I guess I’m supposed to see some flaws, but all I notice are her generous curves, the shiny glow of freshly washed skin, and the open, welcoming look on her face. “I clean up pretty good.”
“If you were any more beautiful, my heart would stop.” I tug on her hand so that she’s no longer kneeling between my legs. I’m afraid that just staring down at her in that position is going to have me coming all over her face. Plus I have plans for her. I run my hands down her thighs to the backs of her knees. Her calves are slightly muscled and she has a delicate ankle. There’s a hollow behind her ankle bone that is begging to be kissed. Actually, there isn’t one part of her body that isn’t made for my lips.
Her hands find their way to my shoulders. The touch is light.
“You won’t hurt me,” I tell her. I need her to be certain of tonight, not because I expect her to have sex with me but because I don’t want her in my bed out of some misplaced idea of gratitude. I want that touch to be sure.
“You sure?” Her hands sweep lightly over my back muscles and down the jagged sides of the knife cuts.
“Nothing you could do would ever hurt me,” I tell her. Even if she ran away from me. Even if she decides that she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me—none of that would be her fault. She didn’t hurt me. The situation would kill me. The idea that she couldn’t love me back would hurt me. But those are all my feelings and I’ll own them.
I’d take any number of knife cuts to my body for this one night with her. To be able to place my lips against her skin. To suckle on her tits. To hear her cry my name as I tongue her to an orgasm. Anything that I will ever endure or suffer after this will be worth it. Worth. It.
I slide my hands up those silky legs to the back of her thighs, pulling down the boxers, and tug her forward. Her scent is rich, not just soap and water, but . . . arousal. A musky, earthy scent that suddenly has my mouth pooling with saliva. No bakery in France ever smelled so enticing or fragrant.
Then I lift her T-shirt up and find nothing but bare skin. She’s shaved everywhere. The smooth skin between her pale thighs is the most erotic vision I’ve been privileged to view.
“Beautiful,” I repeat reverently. I press my nose against her and inhale the scent of her need. She shudders at the touch and her fingers dig into the muscles of my shoulder. I want nail marks. I want her so w
ild that she flays me with her nails and teeth. I’m going to wrench hair-pulling, throating-scratching orgasms from her tonight. “That’s right. Show me how much you want this.”
“I do,” she says. Her own breath is choppy. My breath is coming in short, uneven pants, too. I’ve never been so excited, so fraught with anticipation. Every part of me is reaching toward her. She’s the magnet and I’m a mass of tiny metal filings finding home for the first time in my pathetic life.
I tuck my hand between her legs, and holy fuck is she wet. My plans, the ones that involved a long, drawn-out finger-fucking, go out the window.
“Hands on the bed, sweetheart,” I tell her as I scoot off the side of the mattress to sit between her thighs. She leans forward, her breasts dangling in front of me. The T-shirt that barely disguised any of her charms pisses me off, because I want to see those lush tits swaying in front of my face. I take the bottom of the T-shirt in my teeth and with my two hands rip the whole thing right up the front.
She yelps in surprise and slaps her hand against her chest. “Holy shit, did you just bite and rip the T-shirt off?” She laughs, a sound that is cut off when I suck one of her juicy tits into my mouth.
“You’re fucking right I did.”
With my rough palm, I abrade her other nipple until it is taut and ready for my mouth. Her legs start shaking and I have to abandon her tits to hold her upright, and the motion brings her sopping pussy right to my mouth.
I groan at the sight and scent of her. The liquid of her pussy is dripping down her thighs. There’s a trail of juice that doesn’t end until it’s halfway down her leg. I lap it up. I lap that wet, succulent path all the way up to its source. There, in the hot, sodden cavern between her legs are so many things I want to suck and bite at one time. It’s a wonderland and I barely know where to start. Do I tongue her cunt until she creams on my tongue? Do I suck on her lips? Do I lash her clit until she can’t stand straight? Don’t fuck it up, Rafael.
“Shit, sweetheart. I can kill a man a dozen ways. I can last for two weeks in the tit-frozen north. I can lead you out of the jungle, but I don’t know what I’m doing here and I don’t want to fuck it up. I’m so hungry for you. If I don’t get my mouth on you . . .” I trail off and lick her from asshole to clit and back again.
“That’s good. Whatever you’re doing now is good,” she pants out.
“I want you to keep talking to me. Keep telling me what you like. What you don’t like.” I want inside that pussy. I may never get my dick in her, but I will tongue her better than any motherfucker who ever existed. I will get so proficient at making Ava come with my tongue, my fingers, my words that she will never want for anything. She will always be satisfied. Always.
I place a thumb on either side of her red, engorged pussy lips and arrow my tongue inside her.
“Oh God, yes, Rafe. Do that. Again.”
Her cunt is soft and tight and so very wet. If we were in the desert, I could live just drinking her juice. I stab at her, thrusting inside and memorizing everything. When my jaw rubs against thighs, she trembles. When my tongue rubs against her lips, she moans. I catalog every moan, shudder, and movement.
My cock is leaking inside my cargo pants, and I know I’m going to come just from licking her. Fuck, I could come just from her smell alone, and with my nose buried in her soft skin and my tongue so far up her cunt, I know I won’t last.
“Use your fingers,” she gasps out, a scratchy sound that tells me she’s having trouble breathing and that she’s hoarse from holding in her cries. It makes me want to reapply myself so she loses any semblance of control. “Suck my clit.”
Her shaking hand covers her clit and massages it. Her fingers flick against my nose, and I watch her touch avidly for a few moments so I can see exactly what rhythm she likes. The touch is gentle and then harder until she’s mashing down her clit and bearing down on my face. Her legs give way and I lift her so that she straddles my shoulders, and I steady her ass with one hand so that her weight is off her toes. With my other hand, I plunge two fingers inside her.
“Yes, oh yes, Rafe. Just like that.”
Her cunt walls close down around my fingers.
“Harder, baby. Fuck me harder.”
I shove another finger in. Shit, she is so tight.
I’m harder than I’ve ever been. A million liters of blood are coursing through at a breakneck pace. My heartbeat is pounding in my ears so loudly I can barely hear Ava’s pleas for more.
I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.
There may not be tomorrow with her. I might not get another chance with her, but if I never get between her legs again, her joy and pleasure in this moment has to be so memorable that she won’t be able to touch herself without thinking of my tongue and my fingers and how I made her body light up. I’m glad I’m sitting on my ass and that she’s bent over above me. I don’t know if I could take it if I saw her passion-drunk face or her heavy tits flushed with desire.
I barely have any control left. The urge to pick her up and plunge between her legs has a fierce grip on me. I can see it now. Her legs are spread wide with my hands hooked under her knees. Her nails would be digging into my forearms and her head would be thrown back in delirious ecstasy.
But my gaze would be fixated between us and the vision of my cock shuttling in and out of her sweet cunt.
Clenching my jaw, I remind myself that scenario is never going to happen. Instead, I have a goddamn amazing alternative. I’m palm deep in Ava’s pussy. She’s showing me how to bring her off. I’ve got her lube all over my face, my palm, and inside my mouth. I’m going to give her an orgasm so hard she will feel it in the soles of her feet.
Nudging her hand away with my chin, I lick her clit slowly, trying to map out her reactions. I run my finger up the underside and tickle the tip with teasing lashes. She squirms, which is great for teasing, but I want to make her explode.
Inside her channel, I scissor my fingers, stroking every nerve ending I can find. Her hips buck forward when I find a small, spongy patch of skin. She gasps, a singular noise that sends a tremor down my spine. I drag my fingertips slowly against the front, making sure I hit that spot again.
Everything tightens. Her toes point and the muscles in her thighs harden.
I clamp down on her tiny nub with my mouth, sucking it hard into my mouth. She screams and I don’t let up. Applying as much pressure as I can, pumping my fingers into her cunt, sucking her clit so hard my cheeks are hollowing out.
She grinds down on my tongue, fucking my face. I use everything I’ve got—tongue, jaw, teeth, fingers—until she comes, one shuddering, clenching motion after another, and I keep swallowing.
It’s miraculous. Fuck solar power, wind renewal sources; her orgasm could power the world. I think she made people pregnant three countries over. If Garcia tells me later that there was an earthquake in the ocean, I wouldn’t doubt it.
She cries out my name. “God, Rafe. God. Don’t stop.”
Never. I won’t ever stop. I keep thrusting and sucking until she comes again.
With every breath, I fill my lungs with her musk. Her cream is flooding my mouth, and I’m surrounded by her. My balls tighten and the orgasm shoots down my spine and rockets up and out of my cock. I spill into my pants.
As she collapses against the bed, her legs heavy on my shoulders, I’m thrilled that she’s the first—and only—woman I’ve ever tasted. That her voice is the only one that’s ever screamed my name.
I can feel a smile split my face and stretch from ear to ear, because I fucking made her come so hard she couldn’t stand on her own power and she screamed my name so loud the boys in the village probably heard the echo.
But I’m not done. I’ve only kissed one part of her body. I’ve got so much more to explore.
I lift her easily and throw her onto the bed. She lands on her back with her legs spread, and her big breasts jiggle. I could easily slide my dick between those two lush pillows with the valley we
t from her juice and my come.
Her body is slick with sweat.
“Come inside me, Rafe. I want your hard cock inside me.” One of her hands rises to grip her tits while the other hovers over her swollen pussy.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve got other plans for you.”
I’m not ruining this night with any pain.
She wants me despite the size of my dick, which has made prostitutes run away screaming. Not to mention the scars. I don’t understand how she wants me, but I’m done questioning it.
I crawl up her body, kissing the small rise of her belly up to the underside of her breast. Her tits are amazing. Full and ripe with nipples red like berries. I run my tongue along the curve and into the valley between them. Between us I thread my fingers through the folds of her sex that are wet with my saliva and her come until I can slip inside her again. She welcomes me with a tight squeeze.
“I can make you come again,” I tell her, leaning up to rub my nose against her neck. “I’m learning you. I know you like this.” She writhes under my hand as I find that hot spot in her cunt. “After I’m done sucking and licking every inch of your body, I’m going to fuck you with my tongue and fingers until I’ve sucked every ounce of come from your pussy.”
“I want this.” She grabs my cock in her hand—that hand that is softer than a lamb but surprisingly strong. Or maybe I’m just weak putty at her touch.
“No, Ava, we can’t.” But my body betrays me. It lunges against her touch and she laughs, a low, sultry noise that reeks of sex.
“Oh, Rafe, we can. I’m so wet right now.”
She tugs at my wrist and I reluctantly withdraw. With determination, she guides my soaked hand to my shaft. She wants dick inside her. Fuck.
Could I bring in Garcia? His eyes flared with interest he tried to hide. I’d do anything for this woman. It would kill me to see another man between her legs, but if this was the only way to hold her, could I do it?
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