by C. C. Gibbs
He frowned and his voice sharpened. “Get back here.”
She stared at him.
Recognizing that stubborn tilt to her chin, he ducked his head, watching her from under his eyelids. “Please?”
Her smile slowly appeared. “You have manners after all.”
In the interest of détente, he bit back his remark about not needing manners when you had billions. “I’m sorry if I offended you. Now come back and kiss me.”
“I was thinking, since you’re obviously tense—with reason,” she noted, as if he hadn’t spoken, “why don’t I see if your dick would like some kisses. You know, help you relax.”
Everything except his dick instantly relaxed. “Thank you,” he said politely, as if his turn in croquet had just come up. “I’d like that.”
“Let me take this dress off so it doesn’t get—”
“Messy?” He grinned. “Or are you going to swallow?”
She grinned back. “It depends how polite you are.”
“Give me a hint. What do you want? Please and thank you? Actually, that would work, wouldn’t it? I’ll say please now and thank you later.”
“I’m trying to do you a favor and I get sarcasm?”
He looked amused. “You don’t have to do me any favors. Just come a little closer and I’ll do us both some favors. Repetitive favors—you know, the kind you like best.”
Chapter 3
Finish undressing for me—slowly. Calm my nerves.” He pointed. “You there. Me here.” He turned and walked to a chair, pulling off his T-shirt as he went. Dropping the shirt on the floor, he sat, looked up, and lifted his brows. “What?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you give orders. A lot.”
He smiled. “Sorry. Remind me when I revert to asshole mode. I can adapt.”
“For me.”
“Yeah. Just for you.” He paused, debating how to politely decline her offer of oral. Practically every woman he met offered to go down on him. It was common as shit in his world—the modern equivalent of hello. “Look.” He ran his hands over his hair, took a breath. “I appreciate you trying to be nice to me. But I’ve had less practice, so let me be good to you.” His smile was a thing of beauty, visual poetry come to life. “So come here.” He patted his thigh. “I just want to feel you—everywhere. You can be my security blanket.”
“Did you have one?” she asked, moving toward him.
He shook his head. No point in mentioning the nannies his father had hired who’d made his young life so miserable that his mother finally had stood up to Maso and insisted on taking care of Rafe herself. At age four he’d first come to know the meaning of salvation.
“I had a blankie,” Nicole said, unbuttoning the last few buttons on the dress. “Mine was white with bunnies on it, silky and worn down to a scrap before I gave it up. I couldn’t go to sleep without it.”
He smiled. “That’s probably why my life went off the rails. You’ll have to tell me what it was like to have a security blanket.”
“I’d be happy to show you.” She slowly slid her dress down her hips, let it slither to the floor, stepped over the puddle of purple linen, and grinned. “Consider me here for your edification.”
He laughed and held out his arms.
She’d never been drawn to men by their looks alone. It was too often a façade for banality. Yet it was impossible to ignore the physical splendor of Rafe Contini. His dark hair fell in disarray over his shoulders and framed the high cheekbones of his handsome face, the beauty of his golden wolf eyes, the hard line of his jaw. He was sprawled in the carved and gilded chair, big, tall, nude—enough energy running through his sleek muscles to power the world, his colorful, inked dick arched high, tapping his stomach. His smile clean as the sun.
Nicole caught a huge breath.
He offered her a slow, lazy grin. “Everything good?”
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Oh yeah.”
He crooked his finger as his smile swelled. “Come. Talk to me.”
She closed the distance to the chair in a slow catwalk.
“Fancy that.” His eyes sparkled. “A little sex bomb tease.”
“Didn’t know I was a sex bomb.”
“You’re every man’s fantasy, pussycat.” Huge blue eyes, rosy skin, soft mouth, dark curls all raggedy and messy from the wind, a body that could stop traffic—the kind of lovely that would last forever. He raised one finger from the chair arm where his hand rested. “Were. Past tense.”
Her grin had a glint. “We putting up fences?”
“I am.”
“We’ll have to see how that goes.” Coming to a stop, she took his outstretched hands, put one knee on the turquoise velvet of the chair cushion, then the other, straddled his thighs, leaned forward, kissed him, then sat back with a smile. “What do you want to talk about?”
“About how many times you want to come.” Sliding a hand under her bottom, he lifted her slightly, guided the head of his dick into place, and, leaning back, held her gaze as she slowly sank down his rock-hard erection. “I’m real sorry I missed out on security blankets.” His voice was a low rasp, his hands closing over her hips. “If they make you feel this bloody fine.” A small hooded smile as she came to rest on his thighs, shut her eyes, and softly sighed. “Don’t move.”
She couldn’t if she wanted to, his steely grip nailing her in place, an incredible pleasure whooshing through her like a strong, hot rush of E. Uttering a small, dreamy sound, she slowly opened her eyes. “More.”
He grunted. “Greedy.”
“Always.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Or should I do myself?”
“You’ll like this better.” Holding her immobile, he flexed his quads and glutes, thrust his huge dick upward hard, and zeroed in on all her sweet spots with perfect understanding and absolute precision—offering her the first generous hint of promised favors.
Her head tipped back, the pleasure sharp enough to make her gasp.
Her pussy convulsed around his dick with sheer perfection.
And a breath-held moment passed in an electric, fast-beating silence.
Then, well-trained and accomplished, Rafe raised her slowly up his dick and started over again.
He watched her from under his lashes, monitoring the nuances of her arousal, the little panting groans, the flush on her cheeks, the way she sank her nails into his shoulders when he was forcing his dick all the way up into her tight little pussy.
There. Like that.
Now wait for her gasp, her greedy swiveling grind, her lush moan. He smiled. There was something about that soft, breathy sound that made him feel invincible.
With every lustful cell in her body offering infinite devotion to her sexual benefactor, Nicole recognized that if there was a contest for the best dick in the world and how to use it, Rafe would win it hands down. Not that she was a major authority, but at the moment, she was as close to an earthly paradise as any opium crazed poet could imagine. She was drowning in happiness, bliss was exploding in her brain, and her body was quivering on the brink of another spectacular, mind-blowing orgasm. Oh. My. God. How does he know that when he touches her right there, her entire nervous system melts into a puddle of love?
“You like that?” A deep, low whisper. “Try it again?”
If she could override the fevered pleasure scorching her brain, the synapses powering her speech functions would be screaming Yes, yes, yes! But coherent thought had short-circuited, carnal desperation held sway, ravenous lust was flooding her body, and the best she could manage was a hot little pant.
Good enough. He hadn’t really expected an answer anyway. He pushed deeper, dragged his dick slowly over the soft cushiony nerves of her G-spot, up and down, once, twice, three times, super gently. Gave her clit a tender massage with his thumb for good measure. He was just about to begin an encore riff when she arched her back, uttered a low, strung-out moan, and started to climax.
He’d never before conte
mplated the word finally when it came to Nicole’s pedal-to-the-metal orgasms, but tense as hell, wired to the max with lethal threats coming from every direction, he’d been waiting his turn. So the second she sucked in that little breath in prelude to her scream, he did a quick mental check that all her erogenous pussy zones were feeling the pressure of his big, stiff cock and raced to catch up. As she began shuddering against his body, he blanked out everything but immediate sensation, jumped on the orgasmic rocket, and climaxed in a powerful surge, flooding her pussy with wave after wave of white-hot come.
Before he’d even stopped breathing hard, a jarring memory prompt replayed Nicole’s strangely subdued orgasm; no wild cry, only a few stifled whimpers. Jesus, had he hurt her? An instant spike of worry shot through him. Bending his head, he took her face in his hands and quickly scanned her features, as if evidence of her affliction might be visible. “Something’s wrong.”
“Not true.” Her eyes were shut.
Brushing away a tear escaping from under her lashes, he said, “You expect me to believe that when you’re crying? If I hurt you I’m sorry as hell. Just tell me what I did and I won’t do it again. If it’s something else, I’ll fix it, buy it, or make it go away.”
She slowly opened her eyes. “You can’t do any of that.”
“Try me,” he said gently.
Struggling not to burst into tears and scare him off by saying something stupidly romantic about how perfect he was to her, how easy he was to love, she forced a smile. “It’s nothing—nerves, hormones, fatigue, the alignment of the planets—fuck, I don’t know. Don’t worry about it.” Rafe had too much on his plate right now, scary shit that had Dominic sending Leo along to guard her. This wasn’t the time for her to get all needy and emotional. Although with Rafe there probably was never a good time for that.
“Sleep if you want.” She didn’t want to talk—fine, although with her, he would have listened. “I’ll just hold you.”
She squirmed a tiny bit. “What about him?” His dick was still hard inside her, or hard again, or if the last few days were any indication, perpetually hard.
“Ignore him.” Reaching down over the chair arm, he picked up his T-shirt, moped up some of the come seeping onto his thighs, then dropped the shirt on the carpet.
She smiled. “How exactly should I ignore him—like, realistically?”
“He likes you. I’m sorry. He’s sorry. Don’t worry, we’ll behave.”
“Or we could think about a slow, lazy, sleepy fuck. When’s the last time you slept?”
He shrugged. “No time for that.”
“You’ll collapse.”
He laughed. “Sweet child.”
“And you’re the big bad wolf?”
“More or less, last time I checked. You know, Tiger,” he said softly, brushing a fingertip across her mouth, “I wasn’t completely joking about the security blanket. You remind me there’s a normal world out there. More peaceful. Relaxed. Even when you’re being a drama queen, it’s real, not some fake act of cunning. You’re my comfort and joy, my very own security blanket. Seriously.” He dragged in a breath, dropped his hand. “Jesus, stupid. Forget it.” Survival was his first priority now, not heart-stopping emotion.
“Uh-uh. That was nice of you to say. All of it, especially about me reminding you of something peaceful.” Her eyes twinkled and she spoke in a teasing tone to mitigate his obvious discomfort. “Could I get that in writing for my family?”
He laughed, grateful for her rescue from a potentially awkward conversation. “As if my opinions matter. Your uncle Dominic’s counting the days until you escape my clutches.”
“He should talk. We both know a little about his wildness.”
One of them considerably more than the other. “Any requests?” he asked, interested in changing the subject. “Want something to eat, want to sleep, a drink, we could go for a swim? Or,” he said, charmed by her flirty grin, “we could try a sleepy fuck.”
“So accommodating,” she said lightly, knowing better than to ask for more than he could give.
“Just trying to keep up with your shocking interest in sex.”
“I’ve never underestimated your abilities to keep up. Rumor precedes you, you know. You have records. I don’t.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“Sure,” she said, smart enough not to push back when he was looking at her in that unsettling way. “You’re the boss.”
For a second, no blink,, just taking her in. Then he smiled. “You’ve got a deal.”
He slid his hands under her bottom, large, wide, long-fingered hands, remarkably gentle. With a smooth ripple of honed muscle, he lifted her just a little, the smallest adjustment of male and female parts, a yin/yang subtlety of great richness.
She felt the warm glow, a shimmer of heat slipping into every secret corner of her brain and body, the starry-eyed feeling of bliss so real she couldn’t help but smile. “It’s always good with you. Layers of sweet hotness.” She sighed. “Swear to God.”
The pale curve of her cheek was suddenly limned by sunshine and a feeling he didn’t recognize caught him off guard. He blinked away the odd sensation, cupped her ass, and smiled back. “Same here. Sweet through and through.” And holding her lightly in his hands, he flexed his hips upward an almost invisible distance, she melted around him, and for a stark, fleeting moment they stopped breathing.
He managed to get himself together first, but then self-control had been critical to his survival. “Hey—you okay?” he asked, quietly, watching her with laser vision after her recent tears. “You want more, less, or should we call it a day?”
“More.” Eyes at half mast, shuttered.
Her voice was eerily docile for the Princess of the Universe and he cautioned himself not to fuck this up. Seriously, don’t get this wrong. His problems weren’t her problems. Make her happy.
He moved her first in an effortless, gentle rise and fall, lift and descent, her weight incidental to the strong flex and flow of his muscled arms. The feel of her warm, silken skin, the sweet scent of her, her soft curves no one else should see brought out his predatory instincts and made him swell harder and bigger. His sensations were both raw edged and tender, this brief, golden time the best of all possible worlds.
Nicole’s eyes finally opened, the electric blue gleam like a drug to his senses.
“I won’t break,” she said with a smile.
“Good to know.” His voice was gentle. “Just didn’t want to take any chances. Make you cry again.”
Reaching up, she slipped his dark hair behind his ears, eased upward a little, and brushed his lips with a kiss. “No worries, okay?”
He took her hands, placed them on his shoulders, and smiled. “I’ll worry if I want. And since this is a sleepy fuck, you’re allowed to doze off anytime.”
She gave him a sexy wink. “You aren’t.”
“Not a chance.” His fingers trailed down her back in a warm flow, settled low over the curve of her ass, and held her like she belonged there, like maybe she actually belonged right the fuck there for a very long time.
His hands were warm, strong, relentless—not in a negative way; there was just a certainty and courage in him, Nicole reflected. Trouble waiting for him and he was going to face it, head-on. Without her, unfortunately. Dominic had made that clear in his usual roundabout way; Rafe didn’t want to talk about it. An irrevocable life waited for him somewhere else. She shivered at the thought of losing him, even though she knew it was childish to wish for the moon.
“You’re cold.”
She shook her head. “Kiss me,” she said with a straight-out blaze of longing, her voice sharp and clear. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
It was like a punch in the jaw it hit him so hard. Although the fact that he couldn’t fool himself about what she meant to him didn’t mean he could change the trajectory of his life. And his tone was halfway to earnest before he caught himself, eased off, and smiled. “If I kiss you that way,
pussycat, I’ll scare the hell out of you. How about a no-bruises kiss?”
“Sure. Why not?” Nothing in her voice to catch anyone off guard. Score one for salvaging a dicey situation. If she burst into tears, he’d leave her, she told herself; it was the only thing that kept her from spinning out of control.
They kissed in a slow unfurling of tenderness, in a cascade of breath-held rapture, faces tilting together, mouths open, eyes closed at times, witness to something special, both taking chances because they couldn’t help themselves. Even though they both understood that life was too frail and brittle now, too loaded with might-have-beens. With danger and uncertainty.
But burning hot with something truly amazing too, something beautiful.
And at the end, when kisses weren’t enough, when their hearts were pumping, when Nicole was whimpering and Rafe was gently moving inside her, when the sheer joy they were feeling lit them from within—
A ringtone shattered their paradise.
Rafe recognized the ringtone and ignored it, not missing a beat. Nicole was seconds away from climax, so he was seconds away from climax.
The phone rang again.
Nicole shivered, flinched, glanced up at him.
“It’s nothing. Shut your eyes—feel me? There?”
On the fifth ring though, Nicole murmured, “Should you—”
“No. Am I deep enough here—or here?”
She gasped, then moaned.
“Take just a little more?” he whispered, working to keep them both in the moment despite the distracting ringing. Then her sleek pussy began to ripple up his cock in the initial stage of orgasm, and solidly committed to bringing this off to their mutual benefit, he angled his head down, drew a sweet, stiff nipple into his mouth, and sucked so hard her whimpers reached fever pitch in a mad flurry of frantic little sounds that were shaky, fragile, and sweetly familiar. So he bit down just enough to hear her suck in a breath.
And she came with a muted cry.
He was right behind her, his mind inconveniently counting fourteen rings at that point. But a climax was a climax, thank you very much. And he poured into his all-time favorite pussy with a smart-ass smile on his face.
