by Vivian Arend
Thank God for casual clothes because he didn’t think he would’ve survived dealing with tiny buttons or delicate lace. She had on pretty things, but he could barely see them, his gaze lust-filled as he somehow dragged his hands off her and lowered her to the ground. He reached to grab the bottom of her shirt, and their hands tangled.
Laurel laughed. “Take off your clothes, baby. First one naked wins.”
He caught her wrists in his hands. Pausing for one last moment. “Are you sure about this?”
His voice rasped like a mad man on the edge of control. Maybe that’s why she didn’t give him hell, or start in on how she should know her own mind.
She licked her lips as she looked him up and down, dirty anticipation in her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure.”
The low lusty sound rang in his ears. “Good enough for me.”
Only her idea of racing to get naked? Not going to fly. He was in charge of this. It was his hands that stripped her shirt over her head. It was him who reached behind her and undid her bra, pulling the fabric down slowly so it teased her nipples.
The tiny points sprang upward, and he hummed happily, staring at them, but not touching.
He undid her pants. Button, zipper. Pressing his palms to her ass before trickling his fingers down the backs of her legs as he sent the fabric to the floor. Her shoes and socks came off at the same time as her pants, and she stood there in nothing but a pale blue pair of panties, the rest of her naked. Smooth, pale and mouthwatering.
There. He’d gone slow.
Rafe took a step back, as he stripped away his shirt, ridding himself of the rest of his clothing in ten seconds flat.
They stood there, breathing heavily as they ate each other up with their eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” Laurel whispered.
Rafe chuckled. “That’s what I’m supposed to say.”
She stepped forward, trailing her fingers over his body, and everywhere she touched sent electric zaps through his system. “You’re a work of art,” she insisted. “Carved out of marble, like the statue of David.”
Her fingertips brushed his ass cheeks, and he shivered, willing himself to allow her this moment because once he started the next stage, no way could he stop. “Not planning on fighting any Goliaths tonight,” he teased.
She’d finished her perusal, stepping back in front of him. “The only thing you need to fight are my panties.”
“I can handle them.”
He dropped to his knees, glancing up for a second before catching hold of the edge of the material and dragging it down an inch at a time until she was squirming on the spot and his mouth was watering to taste her.
Not in the front foyer, though.
He picked her up, the smooth heat of her in his arms enough to make him crazy. They were halfway down the hall when she interrupted him with a soft curse.
“My coat—”
Her coat? Last damn thing he was worried about. “It’s not going to be cold in the bedroom, I promise.”
“There are condoms in my pocket,” she whispered.
A laugh escaped, but Rafe kept walking. “Are they special condoms, or can we use mine?”
She pressed her hands to his cheeks. “Only special in that they had your name written all over them. I wanted this to happen tonight.”
He kicked his bedroom door open. “If it means that much to you, I’ll run back and get them.”
Laurel kissed him eagerly, pulling him over her once he’d lowered her to the bed. “Don’t stop,” she ordered. “That’s all—don’t stop.”
The final word turned into a moan as he settled between her legs and covered her with his body. Every inch of air between them vanished as their skin met. His cock rested against her belly, rock-solid and already wet at the tip. Their frantic rush forward slowed enough he could take a breath and actually look at her.
Her eyes shone, her lips glistening as every breath shook both their bodies.
He rocked his hips, dragging the length of his cock over her mound, and another moan drifted from these perfect lips. “Rafe.”
Another rock, and this time she bent her legs, knees rising on either side of his hips. Intimate, yet separate. He watched her expression, moving again, slower, ever slower. His muscles clenched tight as he held himself high enough to stop from crushing her. Aching to make that final adjustment and press into her fully.
“You know what I’m thankful for?” he asked.
Laurel’s eyes flew open from half-mast where they’d fallen. “What?” Her voice tinged with amusement.
“Did I say something funny?”
Laughter hovered between them. This was Laurel—laughter always hovered nearby.
“List of things to do on Thanksgiving. Eat dinner—check. Get naked—check. While naked, list the things you’re thankful for—” She stroked her fingers over his shoulders. “Go ahead. I’m not doing anything else right now.”
Her serious expression was ruined by the giggle-snort that followed when he nipped at her chin. “I’m thankful for the perfect pair of tits pressed against me. The ones with pale pink nipples that taste like cotton candy.”
Rafe twisted far enough he could lick them one after another, swirling his tongue around the tips before closing his mouth over her and sucking until she wriggled, pressing closer even as she quivered.
“Ahhh. It’s a dirty thankful list. That makes more sense.” Laurel drove her fingers into his hair, scratching his skull lightly as he teased.
“What other kind of list is there when we’re naked?” Before she could answer, he put his lips to one side of her nipple and blew a raspberry.
She curled under him instantly, laughter escaping as she struggled to push him away.
He moved farther down. “I’m thankful for this beautiful belly that I get to lick”—he licked—“and nibble”—teeth to her skin—“and, oh look. A bellybutton.” He circled it with his tongue before stabbing inward. “Practice target.”
Laurel gasped. “You are not fucking my belly button.”
“Am too. With my tongue.”
“I’m dying here,” she complained.
“Don’t do that. I have plans,” he said. “And they require you to be alive.”
Rafe sighed happily, slipping lower. He used his shoulders to press her legs apart, stroking his fingers quickly through her curls and opening her to his vision. “It’s as if you’re made up of every shade of pink there is, and every one of them tastes different.”
He glanced up to find Laurel staring at him, the hint of a smile curling her lips. She leaned on her elbows, waiting with anticipation.
He dipped his head lower, turning aside at the last moment to kiss the inside of her leg. “I’m thankful for how much fun it is to tease you.”
Down again, another last-minute kiss, this time on the other leg.
Her thighs quivered as her belly shook, and she was laughing even while she complained. “Your thankful list needs to include ‘I’m thankful Laurel didn’t kill me when I teased her too much’.”
“Dead men can’t do this.”
Rafe finally gave in and placed his mouth over her pussy. He feasted greedily, tasting and licking until he found the spot that made her squirm the most, all semblance of control gone as he stabbed his tongue deep then rasped over her clit.
“Oh my—oh, yes…” Laurel planted her heels on the mattress and pressed upward, searching for more.
He shot a hand over her belly to stop her from squirming, pinning her to the mattress as she fought his grasp. She bucked against his mouth, panting with excitement, and while it was hot as blazes, he wanted more control.
Rafe grabbed her by the hips, shuffling them both around until he could kneel on the mattress. Then he lifted her to his mouth, fingers digging into her ass cheeks, holding her precariously in midair. He fucked her with his tongue in earnest as the taste of her ricocheted through him. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging as she attempted to rock against him. Her so
ft groans escalated as he concentrated on her clit. His cock ached, and he needed to be inside her, but not until she came.
He put his lips over her clit and sucked.
“Rafe…”
Her squirming directed into one solid thrust against his face, body arched in midair, noises of pleasure rolling from her as she shook wildly.
Finally. Sweet fucking Christ, finally.
Rafe had a condom out, his cock covered, and was back between her legs before she’d time to protest he’d been gone. He pressed the head of his shaft to her sex and took a deep breath.
Their eyes met as he pushed, barely entering her. Her sex tightened around the tip of his cock as aftershocks rocked her. Forward more, even more. Impossibly hot, impossibly tight. The only thing that let him inch his way in was how wet she was.
Gazes connected, he pushed forward steadily, not stopping until he was buried as deep as possible. Her eyes widened as he moved, her mouth falling open in a soundless gasp.
He wanted to make some sexy comment. Or a sweet one. Hell, he wanted to say something, but he was two seconds away from completely losing it.
Rafe closed his eyes and fought to keep everything from being over right then and there.
She was stretched to the maximum, tingling with energy and excitement.
Her heart was filled to overflowing at taking this step with her best friend. Her brain was so full it was a tangle, happiness whirling through her system.
And the physically full part—oh, yeah, they fit together perfectly, which meant things were snug enough it was possible Rafe could feel her heart pounding with his cock.
“I’m thankful you’re not nearly as patient as you wish you were,” she teased.
“You should be thankful I don’t fuck you through this bed,” Rafe said through gritted teeth. “I mean, you’d enjoy it, trust me, but sweet fucking Christ you feel so good around me.”
“Rafe…” she warned, slapping his shoulder.
“Fucking…hell?”
Laurel laughed, wrapping her legs around him so she could dig her heels into his ass. “Fuck me all you want without the swearing.”
He rested his elbows on either side of her head, their bodies connected, the heat of him like a brand over her.
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly. Calm in the middle of the storm.
“You’re incredible.”
A cocky smile shone down at her. “Yeah, I knew that.”
Laurel dragged her fingers through his hair, catching hold at the back of his neck and pulling him closer so they could kiss. Speaking against his lips before they connected fully. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Me too.”
Their lips brushed. Innocent—almost. Sweet and soft as their lips met and their tongues tangled, except for the fact that their bodies were joined and he kept his hips in motion. Dragging his cock over sensitive skin.
She’d already had one orgasm. The next seemed queued up and waiting, pleasure rushing her with his every move.
“What you need me to do?” she whispered. “I want to make this good for you.”
He shook, his strong arms quaking as he stroked forward. “It’s good. Trust me, it’s so good I want to…swear.”
Pleasure mixed with amusement, tingling through her system. The sensation she felt—it wasn’t just lust, it was more. It was all the days they’d spent together to this point. Talking and sharing and occasionally crying—all of that was a part of what they were doing right now.
But it was time to drive him crazy. She tightened her core.
Rafe sucked for air.
Evil thoughts whispered temptation to her. “Interesting. So that does work.”
“Sitko,” he ground out. “For fuck’s sake, you’re pushing me too far—”
Laurel did it again, adding pressure with her legs to make sure he went deep, and Rafe cursed under his breath. She timed her next squeeze with his thrust, and he finally broke tempo.
Rafe sped up. Stretching his arms and angling his body higher for leverage as he pumped into her. Fast, hard, nerve-tingling and wonderful.
The mattress bounced under her back. What they were doing was deliciously dirty, with barely enough time to suck in air between each of his drives. Laurel clutched the quilt, fingers tangling in the fabric as she tried to lock herself in position.
Another curse escaped him, this time louder, and he dropped to one elbow, shoving his free hand between them. Fingers slicking over her belly until he reached her clit.
Laurel gasped as he rubbed, and thrust, and leaned in to cover her lips and steal her breath away. Bodies sliding together, his fingers teasing the way she desperately needed as his cock commandeered the extra spots she hadn’t been aware of needing before.
Pressure rose, faster and faster. He linked his free hand with hers, their fingers tangled as he pressed them to the bed. “Sitko…”
He groaned, and she lost control, another orgasm sweeping her away as she stared up at him. His eyes went glassy, or maybe it was her vision blurring as she came hard, her sex clamping down on his cock as if she was never letting go.
Rafe pulsed his hips rapidly—small strokes. His abdomen brushed hers as he rocked, and whatever else he was doing dragged out her climax until her ears were ringing and she was gasping for air.
Then he pressed his lips to her neck, growling as he came. His body tight, like an iron sculpture over her, trapping her, caging her…
Freeing her.
She slid her hands through his hair, whispering his name. Brushing her lips over his face as he twisted toward her. Chests heaving as they fought to come back down to earth.
Then mostly silence, although she swore she heard bells ringing. The rasp of his moan of approval sounded as he rolled to one side, slipping from her body but taking her with him until she was draped over him.
Laurel laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart pound. “Wow.”
“Right?” He trailed his fingers over her back, stroking gently. “You good?”
“Great.”
“Perfect.”
“Yeah—I knew that.” Laurel bit her lip to keep from laughing, but it trickled out anyway, her words tumbling together as she tried to keep her voice steady. “That was so much fun.”
“It was.” He tilted her head so he could kiss her lips before rolling them apart. “Give me a second, then we can cuddle.”
“Hmmm, a man who likes to cuddle. This is why I’m with you.” His ass flexed as he stepped toward the bathroom, and Laurel sat up to appreciate the view.
“I know. You had this theory back in tenth grade. Only losers wouldn’t figure out that cuddles were three steps away from sex…”
“I never said that,” Laurel protested.
The water turned off, and he stuck his head around the corner to grin at her, his gaze dropping over her body. Lingering on her breasts. “Sure you did.”
“Did not.” She narrowed her eyes as he marched back to the bed. “And how in the world are you still hard? You just came.”
“This?” He wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked it.
She swallowed, a shiver rippling over her.
“You don’t think once is enough when you’re in my bed, naked, do you?” Rafe dropped to the mattress, trapping her under his body.
She took a deep breath. “Good. I was worried I’d worn you out.”
His blue eyes flashed. “I don’t have anywhere to be until nine a.m. tomorrow. You?”
“Same.”
“Good.” Rafe leaned in close. “I think you were perfect, but I need more practice. We’d better start now.”
“In the interest of perfection, by all means.” She laughed against his lips.
Rafe let out a huge, long-suffering sigh before he inched back to smile at her. “What?”
“I’m thankful for you,” she admitted. “My slow, yet impatient, fuck-me-through-the-bed, not-at-all-able-to-hold-back boyfriend who still called me Sitko when he
came.”
His smile widened. “Told you. Not yet perfect. I’ll work on it.”
She could handle that, arching against him and letting herself fall into pleasure as he worked on being perfect.
Chapter Twenty
Rafe drifted between awake and dreaming, debating which he was experiencing. If he was dreaming, it was the best one he’d had in his entire damn life. His bed was full of soft, supple woman, and he had one hand draped over her, his hand cupping a breast as he kept her tight against him.
They were both warm from sleep, both naked. If it wouldn’t have scared the hell out of her, he considered letting loose a shout of joy. Not a dream.
Laurel Sitko, naked in his bed. Life didn’t get much better than this.
He lay as motionless as possible, waiting for her to wake, ignoring the fact his cock had come alert well before his brain. Pressed together tight as they were, it nestled against the crack of her ass, happy in its cozy nest. Or as happy as it was going to get until she rolled over and announced she was ready for more.
He’d worked her over pretty damn hard the night before. Still, he couldn’t resist tucking his nose against her hair, breathing deeply to fill his head with her. She was all spicy innocence and sated sex, and if he could bottle her scent and sell it, he wouldn’t have to work another day in his life.
A purr of contentment escaped her.
“What time is it?” she asked, twisting toward him.
He brushed the hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Early.”
“Good.” She finished rolling, draping her arms over his shoulders. “There’s something I want to do.”
He went willingly enough as she pressed him to his back, leaning across him to grab one of the last condoms from his stash. “You’re going to be sore,” he warned.
“Worth it,” she rebutted. Suiting him up before she crawled on top, slowly sinking onto his length.
They both sighed happily.
Yeah, he had a hell of a lot to be thankful for. He slid his hands up her waist to cover her breasts, rubbing his palms over her nipples. “I could get used to waking up like this,” he warned. “You want to leave your shitty apartment and move in here?”