In answer, she caught the hem of her shift and, with a slight lift of her bottom, pulled it off, over her head. She held his stare as she tossed the fine linen to the floor. “I’m sure.”
He did not hesitate this time, his fingers flying to the fall of his trousers and undoing them. They slid from his hips, leaving him in nothing but his stockings and his smalls. And then those final barriers were shed as well.
It was not the first occasion she’d had to see Rafe Sutton naked. However, it was certainly the most breathtaking. He was all solid masculine strength, lean and tall, his manhood rising stiff and thick and hard.
And large.
Good heavens! The mechanics of the act which would follow seemed wildly impossible, given his size.
“Don’t fret, lovely. I’ll go slowly.”
She looked up to find him smiling at her with such raw affection that she forgot her trepidation.
I love this man.
How strange and new it all still felt, the realization, the emotions, and the reality of him here with her, nude. About to make love to her.
“I trust you,” she said, unwavering.
She knew instinctively that whatever happened between them, Rafe would be gentle and sweet.
He joined her on the bed, taking her lips with his, and she tasted herself in his kiss. They moved together, resting on their sides, bodies flush from hip to chest. His mouth moved lingeringly over hers, lightly at first, and then with mounting hunger. In their passion, they were equals, her tongue the first to delve into his mouth, dueling with his.
His fingers slipped into her hair while his other hand caressed her waist. Between them, his length prodded her belly. She was so caught up in the feeling of his warm skin burning into hers, the languorous seduction of his kisses, that it took her a moment to realize the panic which had previously assailed her at the press of his body against hers was…
Absent.
She was not fearful. The darkness and the memories were still at bay. And all she could think, feel, know, was Rafe, his lips gently moving over hers, his fingers sifting through her hair. His leg moving between hers, insinuating itself. The light friction pleased her, and she arched as he brought his thigh higher until she was riding it.
His hand slid from her waist over her feverish skin. He cupped her breast, his thumb swirling over the stiff peak as his lips broke from hers. Rafe trailed kisses down her throat, along her bare shoulder, then lower. Over the curve of her breast until he caught her nipple in his hot mouth and sucked.
A cry escaped her.
“Hush, darling girl.” He flicked his tongue over her nipple, then painted a lazy swirl around it. “Not too loud.”
You are foolish, Persephone.
Making so much noise when anyone in the corridor could hear what she was about. And then where would she be? Utterly, thoroughly ruined.
But oh, what a way to achieve her fall from grace.
“Forgive me,” she murmured in a hushed tone. “I was not…oh.”
He had nipped her, taking her stiff nipple in his teeth and tugging. Her nails sank into the satiny skin of his back. Holding her gaze, he soothed the nip with his tongue, before closing his lips around the peak once more and sucking hard while his thigh pressed against her already throbbing flesh.
“Your cunny is dripping,” he said, kissing the side of her breast. “Do you want me?”
She rocked on his thigh, needing more, fingers threading through his blond curls. The sensations buffeting her were exquisite. The first spend he had given her had rendered her almost painfully sensitive there, the abrasion of the coarse hair stippling his muscled thighs stimulating her in a new way.
“Yes,” she said, seeking more, her hips moving with a will of their own, tilting to an angle that allowed her pearl to receive the attention she craved.
As if sensing her desperation, he slid his hand between their bodies, his fingers unerringly finding her swollen flesh. The first stroke of his thumb over her, in conjunction with another suck on her nipple, was too much. The second was incendiary.
“There’s a love,” he crooned, kissing the place where her breasts pushed together. “Come again for me. I want you to spend so many times, you think you cannot possibly spend again.”
“Oh, God,” she cried, seizing up as his thumb applied more direct pressure, finding the precise location that made her lose control. His wicked words, combined with his knowing touch, were too much.
She stiffened against him, clutching him frantically, as the bliss rolled through her. He held her tightly to him, understanding her need for closeness, kissing her cheek, her ear, her lips, whispering tender words in her ear. To her shame, she realized tears were on her lashes, rolling down her cheeks, as she returned to lucidity, her inner muscles still rhythmically contracting after the force of her pleasure.