Never Say No to a Caffarelli

by MELANIE MILBURNE

She didn’t want to think about the dozens of women who had been with him before. In a strange way, it felt as if it was the first time for both of them. She felt it in the slight hesitancy of his touch, the way his hands moved over her in almost reverent discovery. Like how he explored her breasts, as if they were the most precious, sensitive globes he had ever touched.

  She shuddered as he slid his hand under her pyjama top, shaping her, the warm cup of his palm making every hair on her head tingle at the roots. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her tight nipple and a shower of sensation cascaded down her spine. A hot spurt of longing fired between her legs and she pressed herself closer, wanting more of him, wanting his skin on her skin without the frustrating barrier of their clothes.

  His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss; it burned and sizzled every nerve-ending until she was breathless. He pushed aside her pyjama top as if it was nothing more than a scrap of tissue paper, his hand cupping and shaping her possessively as his mouth bewitched hers. She felt the drag of desire deep and low in her belly, the slow but delicious ache that tugged and pulled, drawing her towards him like a magnet. Her loins pulsed and ached with the need for more. She pressed herself even closer, her insides melting as she felt the hard, insistent press of his body against her.

  He brought his mouth to her breast in a hot, moist caress that made her quake with desperate need. His tongue laved her tightly budded nipple, playing with it, teasing it, tantalising it until she was whimpering in soft little gasps of want.

  ‘Not here,’ he said. ‘We need a bed.’

  Poppy’s breath came out in a startled whoosh as he scooped her up in his arms. ‘I’m too heavy to carry upstairs.’

  ‘You’re a featherweight. I’m twice the weight of you. I’m worried I’m going to crush you.’

  Poppy had never felt more feminine in her life. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the thrill of being swept off her feet. Each step he took on the staircase made her heart thump harder. It was one step closer to him taking her into his full possession. Her skin danced with the anticipation of it, every nerve in her body alert and finely tuned to the radar of his.

  It seemed like for ever yet it was no time at all before her back was pressed against a firm mattress. He came down over her, his mouth hot and insistent on hers, his hands moving over her in gentle caresses that peeled off her night clothes with a slow deliberation that made her blood tingle in her veins. She reached for his shirt buttons, undoing them with fevered concentration. She wanted to kiss every inch of his hot flesh, to feel it shiver and shudder under the ministrations of her lips and tongue.

  He shrugged off his shirt as her hands reached up to explore the carved muscles of his chest and shoulders. ‘You work out.’

  ‘A bit.’ His mouth found the underside of her breast, his lips moving lightly over the sensitive skin like a maestro with an instrument he has never played before. ‘You are so beautiful.’

  The hot press of his naked chest against hers made her body react like a wanton. Her bones melted, her limbs unhinged, her spine loosened. She ran her hands over his taut buttocks, pressing him against her need, wanting to feel the hot, hard probe of his flesh in her aching centre. She went for his buckle and blindly unfastened it as her mouth met his in a fiery kiss. She felt him against her, so erect, so ready for her it made her insides shift like tectonic plates beneath the earth. She touched him through the fabric of his trousers, stroking the thick length of him while his tongue played with hers.

  He briefly broke the kiss so he could shuck off his trousers and underwear. Poppy faintly registered the thud of his shoes hitting the floor. She was mesmerised by the male beauty of his body. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen a naked man before but she had never seen one who looked so magnificent. She touched his tanned flat abdomen with an experimental glide of her hand. ‘You’re so...’ she swallowed convulsively ‘...big.’

  ‘Don’t be frightened, ma belle.’ He took her hand and placed it against his erection. She wrapped her fingers around him, getting to know his shape and feel. He was both satin and steel, power and potency, yet vulnerable too. She felt the pulse of his blood against her hand, the need there thundering so similarly to what was happening in her own body. There was even a bead of moisture forming at the head of his erection; just like the slippery dew she could feel secretly gathering between her thighs.

  He gently pulled her hand away and pressed her back down against the mattress, his limbs in a sexy tangle with hers. ‘My turn to explore you.’ He laid a hand on her belly, just above her pubic bone.

  Poppy shivered at the intimate contact; those long fingers were so close to where she most ached and throbbed. Her breath caught in her throat as he gently separated her with his fingers as if she was a delicate hothouse flower that needed careful handling. Her nerves quivered and shook as he delicately traced her form, not touching her anywhere too hard or for too long, his slow but sure process building up a delicious tension inside her.

  ‘I want to taste you.’

  Poppy saw the intent in his coal-black eyes and shuddered in nervous anticipation. She felt him move down her body, his warm breath caressing her folds, his tongue stroking the seam of her body in a gentle sweep that had her sucking in a sharp breath and shrinking back in startled surprise. ‘Oh!’

  He paused. ‘Don’t back away from it, ma petite. Relax; let yourself go.’

  ‘I don’t think I can...’ Poppy suddenly felt exposed and inadequate. What if she was hopeless at this? What if he thought she was ugly or different down there? She hadn’t waxed as neatly as her peers. She found the thought of being totally bare down there a little unsettling. Was she supposed to look like a little girl or a woman? What did men want? Was he comparing her to all his other lovers?

  ‘Hey.’ Rafe captured her chin and made her look at him. ‘You’re beautiful. You taste beautiful. You smell beautiful.’

  Poppy covered her face with her hands. ‘This is why I’m still a virgin at twenty-five. I’m hopeless at this.’

  He tugged her hands away from her face. ‘You’re not hopeless at this. Relax, ma petite. We’re not in a hurry. Take all the time you need.’

  ‘But what about you?’

  He stroked the flank of her thigh with a slow, caressing touch. ‘I can come in two minutes or forty-two. It’s in my control.’

  She frowned. ‘But I thought...’

  He pressed the pad of his thumb over her lips. ‘Stop thinking, ma chérie. Your job right now is to feel.’

  Poppy let out an uneven breath as he stroked her thigh again. His touch was like a velvet glove against her skin. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment, to the feel of his hand on her thigh, her belly and her breasts in gentle glides that were almost reverent. He came back to her with his mouth, soft as a feather landing on her, waiting for her to feel comfortable before progressing to firmer, more intimate caresses. She felt the slow stroke of his tongue, the sensations ricocheting through her, but instead of fighting them this time she embraced them. It was like a giant wave coming down over her. It swept her up in its vortex, tumbling her over and over in a dizzying whirlpool that made her feel disoriented. She heard a high, keening cry split the air and realised with quite some embarrassment that it had come from her.

  It sounded so primal, so carnal.

  He brushed the damp hair away from her forehead, a smile that was just shy of smug playing at the edges of his mouth. ‘See? You’re not hopeless at this. You’re a natural.’

  Poppy trailed a fingertip down his sternum rather than meet his triumphant gaze. ‘So...forty-two minutes, huh? Did you set a stop-watch or something?’

  He pushed her chin up so her gaze was level with his. ‘Being a considerate lover is a responsibility I take very seriously as a man. No woman should feel rushed to meet a timetable that isn’t hers. Your body will ha
ve different moods and needs. What works well one time may not work so well another time.’

  Poppy traced her index finger over the contour of his lower lip, her softer skin catching on his stubble like silk on sandpaper. ‘You seem to know your way around a woman’s body.’

  ‘I’m still getting to know yours but what I’ve discovered so far is delightful.’ He captured her fingertip with his lips and sucked it into his mouth. She shivered as she felt the intimate pull of his warm mouth, his eyes glittering with primal intent as they held hers.

  Poppy sank back with a blissful sigh as he moved over her, balancing his weight on his arms so as not to crush her. The sexy abrasion of his masculine leg hair against her smoother skin was a potent reminder of how different he was from her. His mouth covered hers in a sizzling-hot kiss that fired up all of her nerve-endings all over again. His tongue played with hers in a commanding way, taming hers into submission, then backing off, making her come in search of him, encouraging her to be bolder, more daring. She took up the challenge, enjoying the deep murmurs of approval that came from his throat as her tongue danced with his.

  His hands glided over her breasts, touching, teasing in unhurried strokes that made her heart race. He worked his way down her abdomen, those lazy caresses over her belly, hips and thighs making her skin tremble all over with need. She felt his erection move against her and got a sense of the urgency that was building in him from the increased rate of his breathing. It excited her that she was the one doing that to him, that she could have that sensual power over him.

  He reached for a condom from the bedside drawer and tore the little packet with his teeth before applying it. He was not only a sensitive lover, but also a safety-conscious one. How different from her mother’s experience with her father, who had only wanted to slake his lust without a thought for the consequences.

  ‘Are you still sure you want to go ahead with this?’ Rafe asked.

  Poppy touched his steely length, her body already pulsing with a longing so intense it was like a pain deep inside. ‘I want you to make love to me.’

  His eyes meshed with hers for a long moment of intimacy that made her feel as if she was the only woman in the world he had ever wanted or would ever want. ‘I’ll go really slowly,’ he said in a gravel-rough voice. ‘Tell me if I’m hurting you.’

  She put her arms around his neck and kissed his mouth, breathing in the male scent of him, the raspy feel of his stubble on her softer skin making her celebrate her femininity in a way she had never done before.

  He moved against her, guiding himself as he gently nudged her apart. ‘All right so far?’

  Poppy nodded. ‘I’m OK.’

  ‘Relax, ma petite.’ He waited for her to let go of her tight muscles before he tried again. ‘You’re in control, remember?’

  She felt the glide of his body within hers, her own moisture making the passage far easier than she had thought possible. He was so big, yet her body stretched to accommodate him. She was feeling really proud of herself, but then he went that little bit deeper and a sharp pain tugged at her. ‘Ouch!’

  He stopped and held her steady, his deep-brown eyes full of concern. ‘Sorry, ma chérie. That was too deep, yes?’

  ‘No...I’m OK.’ She took a little breath. ‘I’m sorry for being such a drama queen.’

  ‘You’re not being a drama queen.’ He brushed the hair back from her forehead. ‘You’re tiny. Just try not to tense up. Your muscles need to be relaxed to accommodate me. Let your legs go.’ He kissed her softly on the mouth, making her melt into him as he slowly went deeper. Her tender flesh caught on him but it didn’t hurt as much this time. She lifted her hips and he went in with a smooth, gliding thrust that made her gasp in pleasure.

  He paused again. ‘All right?’

  ‘Mmm...’ Poppy caressed his back and shoulders, getting used to the feel of him deep inside her. He started to thrust, the friction of his body within hers stirring sensations that spiralled out from her core. She felt the tight ache of want building inside her; it was a thrumming pulse that reverberated throughout her body.

  Taking his cue from her, he gradually increased his pace, using his fingers to enhance her pleasure. She felt the exquisite goal approaching but it was just out of her reach. She shifted restlessly against him. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do it.’

  ‘Shhh,’ he soothed her gently. ‘Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.’

  Poppy gave herself up to his slowly measured thrusts, each one deeper and more exquisite than the one before. He caressed her intimately, varying the speed and pressure until she was hovering on the edge of a scarily high precipice.

  ‘Go with it, ma petite,’ he coaxed her gently. ‘Don’t hold back from it.’

  Poppy gasped as the first wave of her orgasm smashed into her. She felt stunned by the velocity of it. It was like being on an out-of-control fairground ride. She was spinning around and around; she didn’t know which way was up or which way was down. Every cell of her body seemed to be concentrated at that one point in her body. She threw her head back against the pillows as the sensations coursed through her. It went on and on, thrashing her about until she felt like she was being shaken alive.

  He waited until she was coming out of it to take his own pleasure. She felt the increase of tension in him, felt the bunching of his muscles underneath her hands as he pitched himself into oblivion with a deep groan that was thrillingly, unmistakably male.

  There was a long moment of silence.

  Poppy wasn’t sure what to say. What did you say after the most stunning experience of your life? ‘Thanks’ didn’t seem quite appropriate somehow. Her emotions were scattered like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that had been shoved out of place. She didn’t know what to think or feel. He had been so tender with her, so caring and considerate. How could she have thought she hated him? Her feelings were a little closer to the other end of the spectrum, but she didn’t want to think about that right now. Falling in love with someone just because they were a fabulous lover wasn’t a good enough reason, in her opinion. Loving someone had more to do with having similar values, and trust and commitment on both sides; knowing they would always be there for you, no matter what. Rafe Caffarelli wasn’t making those sorts of promises. This was a fling and the sooner she got her head—and her body—around it the better.

  He propped himself up again to look down at her. ‘How do you feel?’

  Poppy felt a little tug on her heart at the tender concern she could see in his gaze. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘No worse for wear...I think.’

  He picked up one of her stray curls and tucked it behind her ear. ‘You were amazing.’

  She gave him her version of a worldly look. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’

  A frown pulled at his brow. ‘I know you probably won’t believe this, but it was different for me.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Just...different.’

  Poppy searched his features for a moment. ‘I thought you were pretty amazing too.’

  He gave her a slow smile that made her insides melt all over again. ‘It’s not like you have anyone to compare me to.’

  ‘Not yet.’

  His brows snapped together as he moved away and disposed of the condom. His movements seemed almost too controlled, stiff almost, as if he was trying to contain his emotions and not quite managing it. ‘I might be a playboy, but I insist that my partners—no matter how temporary—are totally exclusive.’

  Poppy sat up and hugged her knees to cover her nakedness. ‘Touchy.’

  He threw her a hard little glare. ‘I mean it, Poppy. I am not unfaithful in my relationships and I won’t tolerate it in a partner.’

  ‘Am I a partner?’

  He drew in a breath and released it in a rush as if he had come to a decision in his mind. �
�You are now.’

  ‘For how long?’

  His eyes met hers, searing hers with hot longing and unbridled lust. ‘This will burn itself out,’ he said. ‘It always does.’

  ‘Give me a ballpark figure,’ Poppy said. ‘A week? A month?’

  ‘I’m not planning on being down here for too much longer.’ He scraped a hand through his hair to push it back off his forehead. The sexily tousled look made him look even more staggeringly gorgeous. ‘And I’m not a great believer in long-distance relationships.’

  She rested her chin on the top of her bent knees as she wrapped her arms around her ankles. ‘I guess you don’t stay in one place long enough to form lasting attachments.’

  ‘I don’t want to give you false hopes, Poppy. I know girls like you want the whole package, but I’m not interested in that right now. I have too many other responsibilities to sort out first before I even think about settling down.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Poppy said, even though it wasn’t. Could she settle for a short-term fling and leave it at that? How would she feel when it was over? Would she be so deeply in love with him by then her heart would be shattered when he walked out of her life for good?

  Wasn’t she already a teensy bit in love with him?

  He came over and tipped up her chin so his eyes meshed with hers. She had to work hard not to show how conflicted she felt. Emotions she had never felt before were bubbling inside her. It felt like a vicious tug-of-war between pretence and honesty was pulling her in two. She wanted to tell him how she felt, that she loved him and wanted to be with him for ever, but the practical, sensible side of her resisted.

  If she told him how she felt he would end their affair before it had even started. At least if she kept her feelings to herself she would have a few precious memories to treasure once he had moved on. And he would move on. Didn’t his track record prove it?

  ‘The press will probably hassle you for a few days,’ he said. ‘Try not to let it get to you.’

  ‘I won’t.’