She gave him a naughty smile as she untied his wrists. ‘So, Mr Must Have Control At All Times. How did that feel?’
‘Amazing.’ Rafe pushed a finger into her and watched as her face gave a spasm of pleasure. She pushed against him, urging him on, inciting him. He withdrew his finger and flipped her around so her back was to him. He pressed up against her, letting her feel the growing, hot, hard heat of him from behind. She gave a sensuous wriggle against him, searching for him with a sexy little hitch of her hips. It was all he could do to stop from thrusting into her without protection. ‘Wait,’ he said, stalling her with a hand on her left hip. ‘I need a condom.’
Once it was on he came back to her, sliding his hands down her slim sides, breathing in the aroused fragrance of her. ‘Are you comfortable with this?’ he asked against the back of her neck.
She gave a little murmur of assent and wriggled against him again.
Rafe thrust in slowly, gauging her response, trying to keep control when all he wanted to do was explode inside her tight warmth. She urged him on with little kittenish mews that made his skin come up in goose bumps. He started to move, his thrusts going deeper and deeper, then harder and faster. She was with him all the way, her body accepting him, responding to him with such frenzied passion it made him teeter on the edge of control all over again.
He slipped a hand between her legs to give her that extra friction, and within seconds she was convulsing around him, her cries of pleasure and the tight contractions of her body triggering his own spectacular release. He emptied himself, shivering all over in that blissful aftermath.
He didn’t want to step away from her and break that intimate connection. He felt his erection subsiding but knew it wouldn’t take long to get it going again. His desire for Poppy was increasing rather than abating. Usually by this stage in a relationship he was getting a little restless, even a little bored. But with Poppy every time was so completely different, more exciting, more satisfying....more addictive.
Her glib comment about making the most of her time with him had annoyed him. He wasn’t ready to commit to anything without some serious thought. Choosing a life partner was a big deal. He had seen too many marriages come unstuck because they had been forged out of lust rather than common sense.
He was a planner, a strategist, not an impulsive fool. He was not at the mercy of his loins.
At least, not unless he was tied up.
His conversation with Raoul had got him thinking, however. He didn’t want to end up like his grandfather, having to pay people to be with him in his old age. The thought of a wife who would be a lover, friend and confidante was rather attractive. So too was the thought of children. Only that evening they had walked past a young couple pushing a pram. Rafe had seen Poppy’s covert glance at the cute baby inside. It had got him thinking of how beautiful she would look if she were pregnant. With her coltish limbs and ballerina-like figure, she would be all baby. He hadn’t realised how sexy a pregnant women looked until now... Or, at least, how sexy Poppy would look.
What are you thinking? You’ve known her how long—two weeks?
He had to get a grip on himself. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring her to Paris. It wasn’t called the city of love for nothing.
Love.
That was one four-letter word he didn’t like to think about too much.
Rafe moved away from her and disposed of the condom. She turned and looked at him in that coy way of hers he found so incredibly endearing. She had played the game of temptress with stunning aplomb, but deep down she would always be an old-fashioned girl. He felt a string being plucked deep inside him as she picked up her dress and used it like a shield against her nakedness. ‘You don’t have to hide yourself from me, Poppy.’
Her teeth bit into her lower lip. ‘I know. It’s just I can’t help thinking you’re probably comparing me to all the other women you’ve slept with.’
The irony was Rafe could barely recall the names, let alone the features, of his previous lovers. He came over to her and cupped her face in his hands. ‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever been with—not just in terms of looks, but in terms of who you are as a person. And let me tell you, that’s far more important.’
‘Do you really mean that?’
He pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth. ‘I mean that.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
POPPY WAS WAITING outside the building where Rafe had his meeting when he came out. He had been expecting her to go shopping for the morning. He had even given her a credit card to use. She had slipped it in her purse without argument, but he had seen the way her lips had pressed together momentarily, as if she had felt compromised in some way. Her reaction had been completely different from any other woman he had been with. Some had barely contained their excitement at being given carte blanche. It was a refreshing change to think Poppy had not taken his generosity for granted.
She stepped up and slipped her hand into his. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I need a drink.’
‘That’s not always the best solution.’
He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘I know. I hate myself right now. I just sacked a man who has a wife and three little kids.’
She gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Was there no alternative?’
Rafe looked down at her heart-shaped face. She was so innocent, so unjaded. ‘He’s got a gambling problem. He’s ripped me off for hundreds of thousands of euros. It’s been going on for a couple of years. I should be pressing criminal charges.’
A little worried frown pulled at her brow. ‘But you’re not going to do that, are you?’
He let out a long, jagged breath. ‘No.’