Just as he suspected.
No fucking bra.
He’d been pretty positive after an hour of staring at the damn picture, but he had to be certain.
“Raul...” Her voice was laced with frustration, desire, all the notes hit home for him.
“What?” He kissed the spot behind her ear and she shuddered in his hold.
“Just...I’m not...I...”
“Hmm?”
“Oh!”
He swallowed her next cry with his mouth, sealing his lips over hers, nipping the swollen bit of flesh she’d worried with her teeth. Flexing his hips, he ground against her, the clothes between them were both frustrating and completely hot. He could feel her warmth, the way her body trembled. Was she wet? Did she want him as much as he wanted her?
He’d only meant to kiss her, but every damn time they touched it was like an explosion going off inside of him. His better judgment flew out the window and he just—wanted. Her. This. Whatever the hunger was burning him up from the inside.
Raul gripped her with both hands and hauled her up higher, freeing his hands to touch. To tease.
She began to shift with him, her hips undulating. He wedged a hand between them, cupping her mound. Her fingers twined through his hair, yanking him closer. He palmed her breast, the tight bead of her nipple easy to find through the fabric. He wanted her to feel, as he did, this inebriating sense of desire. Touching her, kissing her, it made him forget himself. She became the center of his world. He wanted to wrap himself around her until they melded into one being. It was more intoxicating than anything he’d ever experienced before.
“Raul.” His name was full of need and frustration.
Yes!
Even if she only felt a fraction of what he did, the yearning—it would be enough.
He slipped his hand under the stretchy fabric of her yoga pants, holding his breath. She could still tell him to stop, that this was too far. Instead, she whimpered and lifted her hips.
No panties.
Even. Better.
He shifted his body, cupping her mound, nothing between them. She tossed her head back against the fridge, gasping for breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered against her chest.
His fingers slid between her folds and deep within her without any sort of resistance. She was wet. Soaking.
“Oh—oh my God—Raul.” Her voice tapered off to a whisper.
He pumped his fingers in and out, flicking his thumb over the erect nub. Each time her body shuddered and her legs tightened around him. She squeezed her eyes shut, helpless whimpers trickling out of her.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered into her hair.
Tomorrow he was going to have zipper indentations on his dick, but it would be so worth it.
Her nails dug into his shoulder and scalp. She inhaled and her heels drove into his ass, shoving his fingers deep within her. He massaged her clit, keeping the pressure on, and watched her face. He was captivated by the flex of her throat, her glistening lips, the way her eyes were dilated in pleasure. He felt her orgasm, the rigidity of her body, the way she tensed at the height of climax. She came apart in his arms, granting him a front row seat to the most beautiful display he’d seen since—ever.
She slowly, wondrously relaxed, melting into him, going soft.
Miranda blinked several times, sucking in deep breaths.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
She turned her head, her lips brushing against his.
“Will you put me down now?” she asked.
“Can you stand?”
“Probably not. Is there ice on the floor?” She peered down at the floor, where several cubes of ice lay scattered under her.
“Oops.”
Raul gently pulled his hand out of her pants. She inhaled sharply and fisted his shirt, her eyes going distant for a moment.
Part of him loved that reaction. The other part of him wanted more.
He cupped her ass in both hands and lifted her away from the fridge. Yup. He’d had her ass against the ice machine button.
“Where are you taking me now?” She looped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Bedroom’s that way.”
His vision blurred a little.
Raul cleared his throat. “I was going to—”
“Bed.”
She nipped his lower lip, biting hard enough it almost hurt.
He swallowed.
“You sure?” He had to ask one more time. Just to make certain.
“Yes.” Her answer held no hesitation.
He almost ran into the darkened bedroom. His shins found the edge of the mattress and he pitched forward, into blackness, landing on top of Miranda. She chuckled and her hold around him tightened, drawing him down farther into the bed. He found her mouth in the darkness. Their hands tangled, each trying to get the other’s shirt off first.
She won that battle. He sat up long enough to toss it off. Her hands wrapped around his belt, unbuckling it and pulling him farther up her body.
“I should probably warn you or something. I’m really horny.” Her voice in the dark painted a picture of her face. Drawn, needy, determined.
“That makes two of us.” He pushed her hands aside and slid his up under her shirt until he covered both breasts with his palms.
She arched up into his touch.
Damn it. He wanted—needed—to see her.
There were lamps, weren’t there? He’d only been in the bedroom briefly during their search for Lola. Was he remembering the lamps right?
He let go, reaching blindly through the darkness until he found the lampshade and then the button. Miranda blinked at him in the dim light.
Her dusky brown nipples beckoned him back to her.
Raul slid one arm around her waist and hauled her up to the middle of the bed.
Miranda yelped.
“Are you okay?” He froze.
“I’m so not used to being manhandled.” She grinned.
He’d take that as a good thing.
“I haven’t even started handling you yet.” He covered one breast with his hand and leaned over her.
Miranda’s dark brown gaze danced with light and mischief in their depths.
Her hands grasped at his jeans, the tab. He groaned as her hand wiggled past his underwear. He rocked his hips, thrusting into her hand. Her eyes widened and her cheeks sank in.
They needed to get naked. Now.
He grasped the waistband of her yoga pants and pulled back, drawing the stretchy fabric down her legs as he stood. She lay there, one knee bent, a modest movement to shield herself from view. Teasing him with what he’d felt, but not seen.
Raul toed out of his boots and pushed his jeans down. He had enough presence of mind to toss his wallet onto the bed. She watched his every move, her eyes growing larger and larger.
He grasped her knee, pushing her legs open. She covered herself with a hand, as though he could touch—but not look. He gently pushed her hand out of the way.
“You know what three things I want?” It was a strain to speak, but he got the words out.
Miranda continued to stare at him.
“To touch you.”
He slid his index finger through her slit, which was still damp from her orgasm.
“I want to taste you and be inside of you. That’s what I’ve been thinking of all day long.”
Miranda whimpered.
Raul bent, spread her open and licked her. The musky sent of her filled his nostrils, the taste of her cream hit the back of his throat. It was heaven and ambrosia.
Her hips came up off the bed and her knees closed around his shoulders. Her head turned away, eyes closed. What he wouldn’t give to draw this out longer, but if he wasn’t in her soon, he’d come like a kid.
He groped blindly for the wallet. It wasn’t normal for him to carry protection, but after this morning he’d figured prepared was better than sorry. The condom slid out easily, the wrapper tearing with a flick of hi
s wrist.
Miranda peaked up at him, her lip pinched between her teeth. She watched him roll the latex on, her brows lifting slightly.
Raul bent, pressing a kiss to her mound and stomach, an evil idea tickling the back of his mind. He grasped her hips, their gazes locking. Her lips parted. He rolled her over until the bunched up comforter was under her hips. Before she could press her thighs together he slid one knee between them, forcing her legs open wider.
She shifted below him, drawing her arms in, turning her head, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Her ass lifted, brushing against his erection.
Damn, but she was beautiful.
He bent, kissing her lower back, then farther up her spine.
“This okay?” he whispered into her ear. Since she didn’t seem the vocal-in-bed type he added, “Just nod or shake your head.”
Her head nodded so hard her curls bounced.
Well that was an emphatic yes, if he ever saw one.
He pushed up, grasping his erection with one hand and palming the curve of her ass with the other. He found her vagina with his fingers and notched the head of his cock against her.
Shit.
His vision blurred a bit as he sank into her. She lifted her ass, urging him deeper.
“Oh shit.” He dropped his head to her shoulders, kissing her. “You feel so good.”
Her answering whimper spurred him on.
Deeper and deeper he thrust into her, until he felt his balls hit her mound. He could see her toes curl, the way she kicked her foot up and how her hand fisted the sheets. He wanted this to be good for her, as good as it was for him.
He reached around, sliding his hand between her and the comforter. His fingers tangled with hers.
Fuck, she was touching herself right now.
He leaned over her, thrusting harder, the mattress springs groaning.
“Show me how you like it,” he whispered.
She had her face buried in the blanket, hidden from him. For a second she didn’t move. Then her wrist curved, sliding her fingers around their joined flesh, gathering the moisture and drawing it forward, over her clit.
“Keep doing that,” he said into her ear.
He brought his hand up, cupping her breast. Her hand continued to slide around them, intent on pleasure. He thrust, their bodies fitting together, and she stroked. Her panting, the helpless sounds of pleasure, rose in pitch.
“You are so fucking hot. Fuck. Your pussy feels so damn good.” He let go of his control, driving into her harder, losing himself in her touch and the way she shared herself with him, the intimacy of it.
Her legs kicked up, toes curled, hips arched, spine curved. Her internal muscles tightened, drawing him in, deeper. He groaned, caught unaware by her orgasm.
Raul squeezed his eyes shut, thrusting into her hot, slick pussy. Her fingers caressed his shaft, her body urging him on.
He shouted, plunging deep into her, pinning her to the bed as pleasure rippled through his body, robbing him of all coherent thought. Everything except—fuck, he wanted to do that again. And again. As many times as she’d let him.
5.
Miranda lay on her back, the ceiling hardly in focus. Her muscles—her bones—were liquid.
Had that just happened? Again? Well...she couldn’t exactly count right now. She’d lost track after four.
Tamara was totally not full of shit.
Miranda hadn’t believed her when she’d said the female body was capable of more than two subsequent orgasms. It just hadn’t seemed possible. Man, oh man, had Raul proven her wrong. She didn’t want to move for a week, or even wiggle her toes.
“You okay? Need some water?” Raul bounced out of bed, barely winded and grinning.
“How are you still breathing?” She stole a quick glance below the border.
She was half-relieved he wasn’t hard. Again. Her body couldn’t take another round right now.
Raul merely chuckled and crawled across the bed toward her. He kissed her gently, the skin around his eyes crinkling. His goofy smile and his energy, they were infectious. He made her feel like a giddy girl.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Is that a trick question?”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “No.”
“Then, yes. Feed me.” She tucked the comforter up under her chin. Eventually, she’d need to do necessary things but right now she just wanted to lay here.
Raul strolled naked into her bathroom. He was utterly at ease. There was no post-sex awkwardness. No shyness. He just...belonged. Usually, it took a few days after intimacy for her to even work up the nerve to look at her partner. Doing it again a few times after the first round probably nullified that relationship marker.
“Stay right there.” Raul wagged his finger at her on his way from the bathroom, through the bedroom and to the kitchen.
“I have to pee. You want me to piddle the bed?”
His answering laugh made her shake her head.
This was probably her only opportunity to dash across the room and grab her nightgown before he came back. Looking at him was one thing, strutting around in her birthday suit a whole other thing. She tossed the blankets back and stumbled her way into the bathroom. She washed up and snagged the T-shirt nightgown from the back of the door. Just because Raul was comfortable walking around buck-ass naked didn’t mean she was. Hell, she wasn’t much for the nude stroll when she was home alone, much less with a very attractive man in company.
Her breath caught at the reality of this moment. She’d just had crazy sex with a guy she barely knew. Not to mention, he was hot and she was...well, she wasn’t bad looking, but she didn’t have her friend Tamara’s figure. Raul hadn’t seemed to mind, but then again, she could just be convenient for him.
Whatever. This was good for her. She’d enjoy it and then...figure it out.
She stepped out at the same moment Raul carried in plates of pizza on her decorative table tray.
“Sciences. Nice.” He set the tray down on the foot of the bed and perched on the edge.
She glanced down at her blue and black Star Trek nightgown, more than a little surprised he’d nailed that, since the emblem had washed off the fabric ages ago.
“Yeah, it was this or the red one. That didn’t seem like a good idea.”
“Oh, no way. Sit.”
She slid in with her back to the headboard and accepted the reheated pizza. She was so hungry she barely tasted the first slice.
“That good, huh?” Raul’s chuckle disrupted her foodgasm.
Miranda blinked at him, then her plate.
“I like pizza.” Actually, she liked food. Period. Which was half her problem. Almost every con Rashae was griping about Miranda’s fluctuating weight.
Maybe she didn’t need another slice.
“It’s damn good pizza.” Raul munched on, blissfully unaware of the landmine he’d just lobbed at her.
“Yeah.” She set the slice down, mentally calculating calories. Piper was a pro at calorie counting. Unlike super athlete Tamara or naturally voluptuous and fit Rashae, Miranda and Piper often commiserated about breathing around food and gaining weight. It was their constant struggle.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no.” One more slice wouldn’t kill her, and she’d leave the third.
“What? Is the pizza cold still?”
“No, it’s good.”
“Then why are you looking at it like someone just farted?”
“I have to fit into a costume in a few weeks, and I can hear my friend griping at me already about watching what I eat.” Miranda sighed. She did love food.
“Why not get a costume that’s the right size, and not worry about it?”
“She makes them.”
“Okay, then why not make it the right size?”
“She does—I don’t always stay the same size though. Rashae gets frustrated that I’m not more consistent or healthier or whatever.”
Raul chewed
slowly, his brows drawn down. His five o’ clock shadow was coming in strong, giving him more of the rugged look.
“And this is your friend?” he finally asked.
“Yeah.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a friend.”
“She is. She’s just concerned about me. Rashae had an aunt that lived with her family pass away when she was younger because of health issues related to her weight, among other things. Rashae is super awesome, very driven, so when she decides she’s going to do something—she does it. I don’t have her knack for keeping everything spinning the way she does, so when I’m super focused on one thing, I’ll just eat whatever is easiest, unlike her, who already has perfect portions of everything ready. You should see my fridge after she visits.”
“I’m just going to put this out there, for what it’s worth. I like you as you are.” He lifted his shoulders and stuck half the pizza crust in his mouth.
“Thanks.”
“Stop that.” He pointed at her.
“What?”
“I can see it on your face.”
“What?”
“That whole, he’s just saying that because we had sex, argument.”
“I...didn’t think that...” Not quite in those words, but he did hit the nail on the head.
Raul put his plate on the tray and scooted closer to her. She swallowed and had half a mind to hide in the closet. It had a lock on it and everything.
“Are you going to pick me up again?” She asked.
“Yup.”
“No!”
He had his arms around and under her before she could wiggle off the bed. Once again, he lifted her almost effortlessly into his lap.
“You’re tense.” He stroked his hands over her legs and back.
What did she say to that?
“Look, I like curvy girls. I like feeling like I’m not going to break you.”
“You’re saying I’m sturdy?”
“No.” He patted her bottom. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“So, you’re going to spank me instead?”
“I might.”
“I’m not sure I’m into that.”
“We can always find out.” He grinned at her and a bit of her melted. “All I’m saying is—I think your body is hot and your friend can go fuck herself.”
Mr. Purr-fect and the Geek (Gone Geek, #2) Page 5