by Selena Scott
He scrambled for his phone in the pocket of his discarded pants and took the picture much the way she had, hurriedly. But he took more than one. He started at her feet and took pictures of her calves, of her thighs, the dark valley between her legs, her stomach, her neck, her hands, and then finally her face. Over and over, her face.
She ignored the phone and instead looked directly into his eyes. “Why so many?”
“I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. Every single thing about this moment.” And then the serious expression left his face and a smile quirked up one side of his lips. “Plus this is spank bank material for, like, a decade.”
She laughed and snatched the phone from him, looking at the pictures, trying to see herself through his eyes. To be honest, she barely recognized the woman in the photos. She looked horny-eyed and wanton. Her body was a river of slender curves. There was so much want on her face. For a second, she just stared at her expression in these photos. It became insanely clear how badly she wanted him.
For just a moment, self-doubt crept back in. What if she wanted him way more than he wanted her? Was it even possible for him to want her as much as she wanted him?
She gasped as she felt a warm, wet mouth at one of her hipbones. The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the futon and then the carpet; neither of them even watched it fall.
Their eyes were focused only on one another as Raphael laid himself out halfway onto the futon, his face level with her midsection, his mouth on her hip. The line of her underwear wasn’t more than an inch away from his mouth, but he seemed to be studiously ignoring it, focusing only on her soft skin.
He drew a pattern over her hipbone with his tongue and she jolted, slightly ticklish. That made him smile as he kissed his way upward, stopping to gently bite the indent of her waist. He traced his nose up the steps of her ribs, and then spent a very long time kissing at her sternum. Her breasts were too small to create much cleavage but he didn’t seem to have a single complaint about that. By the time he’d made it up to her neck, Natalie was panting and pressing her legs together, her skimpy underwear soaked completely through.
She expected him to sink deeply into a kiss, but once he was level with her, he rolled up onto an elbow and stretched out on his side next to her. She was obliged to see that he was panting as much as she was.
But his hands were steady and patient. He propped his head on one hand and with the other, he traced over her collarbones. Four fingers seemed intent on following the path his mouth had just made. He dragged the pads of his fingers down her sternum, playing for a minute on the front clasp of her bra. But he didn’t stay long there. He continued traveling down.
Raphael’s fingers traced over her ribs. He laid his palm flat against her midsection and then circled his thumb over one of her hips and then the other. As if he were paying them homage, asking them entry to the place they guarded. He drew a line over her directly above the line of her underwear. He did the same thing on her thighs, drawing a map of where her panties covered her.
“Raph,” she gasped.
His eyes snapped immediately from the path of his hand to her gaze. She was lost in the green of his eyes. So familiar, so new, so human, so wild. She spread her legs for him, his eyes on hers, she opened herself up, asking without words.
His eyes dilated, darkening, and his breath washed over her face. He didn’t look down as his fingers slid underneath the line of her underwear and rested, held still. He closed his eyes for a second, as if he were trying to get a hold of himself, or as if he were trying to absorb this moment directly inside. He had his hand underneath her underwear and it was driving both of them insane.
When he opened his eyes again, his expression was blazing and desirous and tender at the same time.
“Raph,” she said again, and she realized that he’d discombobulated her so thoroughly that in her mind now, his name was interchangeable with the word yes. She was saying his name and it wasn’t different from asking him for more.
His gaze was everywhere on her face, taking in even the minutest changes in her expression as he slid his hand downward, between her legs. They both gasped when he found her.
He didn’t push, he didn’t open, he didn’t delve inside. Instead, for a long minute, he only pressed his palm to her wetness, as if he were getting used to touching her there, as if, in a way, he was saying hello.
Still lost in his eyes, she spread her legs even further for him. His nostrils flared but a small smile touched his mouth. He pulled his hand up just to push back down. This time, he explored. He parted her with a thick finger, finding her hottest, wettest parts and drawing a light, sure pattern there.
She gasped and her eyesight went hazy. She found herself staring at the ceiling, almost unseeing. Raph leaned down and kissed her lips, one finger just barely inside her. He kissed her again, this time with a touch of his tongue.
He pulled back just a bit to look in her face again. “Natalie.”
He said it the same way he had the first time they’d kissed. As if he were naming her, discovering her. Her eyes flicked back to his and she realized that that was what he’d wanted. He wanted her eyes. He wanted a window inside of her thoughts.
She gave it to him as best as she could, but she could feel her heartbeat in her throat, between her legs. She could hear nothing but her breath and his breath. She was lost in the world he was creating.
He kissed her again, lightly this time, and when he drew back, he pushed his middle finger fully inside of her.
“Raph.”
He groaned and dropped his face onto her shoulder for a second. He pushed back up and two high spots of color had appeared on his cheekbones. He was sandwiched against her, as close as he could be.
“That was a Natalie Moment.”
“What?” she was distracted by his finger inside her, by his hardness pressing into her hip. “That was a what?”
“A Natalie Moment. That’s what I call it in my head when I realize that the friend I’ve always loved and the woman I’m so fucking turned on for are the same person.”
“Oh.” She considered that for a minute, though her mind was spinning in circles and her breath was jumping her chest up and down. “Then I think I just had a Raphael Moment.”
“Say my name again,” he whispered against her lips. “The full thing.”
“Raphael,” she whispered.
“It’s so crazy. When you say that, I feel like you’re saying a hundred other things.”
“Like I’m saying yes? More?”
“Exactly.”
“I was just thinking that.”
“Say it again.”
“Raphael.”
This time when she said it, he bumped the heel of his hand against her clit and pushed his finger further inside her. She gasped.
“Raphael.”
He circled the heel of his hand against her, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Historically, she was a pretty hard lock to pick but just those small ministrations had her feeling the first faint strains of an orgasm on the horizon.
“Raphael.”
This time, he added a second finger inside of her and pressed his thumb to her clit. She damn near came off the bed.
She said his name over and over as he circled her clit and petted her from the inside. She forgot about her surroundings, about their situation, about the party downstairs as she planted one of her feet and clawed out at the fabric beneath her. She jutted her hips upward and rose to meet him, halfway rolling onto her side as he panted and he pinned his eyes to her face.
“Oh,” she whispered. “I think—Raph—I’m think I’m gonna—”
He said nothing, just panted against her, absorbing every detail and then, sandwiched against him, she tossed her head back and practically levitated. She’d never been able to keep her eyes open when she came and now was no different. The dark of her eyelids cocooned her as a rolling, compressing, ecstatic wave of an internal orgasm nearly flattened
her.
“Jesus,” he said into her ear as she came down from it. “Holy shit.”
His hardness was pressing rhythmically against her and she realized it was an involuntary jerking of his arousal, his hips weren’t even moving. She’d pushed him that close to the edge just by lying there and taking all the pleasure he’d been so intent on giving.
She desperately wanted to be some kind of sex warrior who could roll over top of him and ride him into heaven and glory. She wanted to give him the sex of his life. But she’d just come so hard she’d started trembling again and she was limp next to him. He pulled his hand from her and crossed his arm over her stomach, holding her to him. They panted, lying completely still while her heartbeat tried to steady itself.
“Can I—” he started and then stopped to clear his throat. “Can I get us naked?”
“Yes,” she choked immediately. That was exactly what she wanted. To be naked with him while still being able to lie completely inert as she recovered from the deepest orgasm of her life.
He moved quickly. Flipping his underwear off and onto the floor, drawing hers down her legs, hissing when he got a good look at her, and finally unlatching her bra and tossing that away as well. And then they were completely naked together for the first time.
He immediately laid out over her. He kept most of his weight off her but gave her every bit of his heat. He buried his face in her neck as he nudged his dick against her thigh.
For the first time, she felt exactly how hard his heart was banging in his chest and it did something to her. Some of the energy that had been zapped by her orgasm, by all the vulnerability, was suddenly coursing through her again.
“Raphael.”
He lifted his head, his eyes dark. He was still working himself against her in small, seemingly involuntary movements.
“I want to see you.”
His eyes darkened further as he pushed up off of her and knelt between her legs.
Nat’s mouth went dry as her eyes bottomed out on his cock. Up to now, everything had seemed strangely familiar, even though they’d never done it before. But that thing between his legs? There was nothing familiar about that.
“Wow.” She cocked her head to one side and pulled herself up to a sit.
He looked down at himself and then up at her. “Wow in a good way?”
“I think so.” She sucked her lip into her mouth. “He’s a little scary, Raph.”
“Scary?” He dropped a hand to himself and pushed his dick around a little. “Nah. He’s a gentle giant.”
“Can I?” She leaned forward and he instantly took his own hand away, making space for her.
Realizing that she hadn’t really touched any of him yet, Nat sat on her heels in front of him, mirroring his position, and started at his shoulders. She traced lines, his muscles, his chest hair, his ribs, his six pack. She circled his hipbones the way he’d done to her. His hands twitched at his sides as if he were desperate to touch her but he was making himself stay still.
His body was silkier than she’d expected in some places and rougher in others. She’d never known that he was ticklish at his ribs. When she finally made her way down between his legs, she decided to use two hands. One after the other. She gripped him at the base and drew one hand toward her and then the other.
He hissed air through his teeth and jutted his hips forward. Nat took that as a sign to do it all again.
“See?” he panted. “Not scary. Actually, he’s incredibly easy to please.”
She managed a chuckle and conceded his point. Raph’s dick was big and hot, but actually kind of reminded her of Raph. Just sort of a big, sweet guy. And she bet it was just as talented as he was.
Without warning, Natalie dropped forward and swiped her tongue over the head.
“Oh, shit, Nat! Maybe—if you’d just—we should—if that’s gonna—could we—fuck.” He dragged both hands over his face, looking positively wrecked.
Thrilled with that response, she took another experimental taste of the crown of his dick.
He animated immediately, pulling himself out of her grasp and moving in for a kiss. “Next time, baby. Next time or else this is going to be over way faster than I want it to.”
“Condom, then?” she asked, a big smile on her face.
“Yes. Yeah. Absolutely.” He basically dove off the futon and resurfaced seconds later with a condom from the pocket of his slacks.
He tore it open, kneeling in front of her, his hands working the condom over himself as he watched her.
She spread out again, the way she had before. Her hair everywhere and her arms over her head.
“I can’t believe this,” he mumbled. “I can’t believe this is happening. That you’re looking at me like that. That I get to—”
He cut himself off and crawled over her. She expected his mouth to land on hers but instead he nuzzled at her breast, seemingly drawn there.
Oh.
He was nuzzling at her port-wine stain. Natalie realized, with a shock of surprise, that it was the first time she’d thought about it since Raph had pulled her jumpsuit off of her. Usually, it was all that she could think about when she was getting naked with a man. But not this time. As he kissed at the border of it, Natalie waited for self-consciousness to hit. Other men had paid attention to her birthmark, perhaps in an attempt to ease her concerns over it, and she’d endured their affection as if it were as painful as ridicule. Which, for Nat, it had been.
But that was not the case with Raph. She watched his face as he traced her reddened skin with the tip of his nose, took her nipple in his mouth and found her breast with his hand. He molded her and drew back so that he could watch the play of his hand over her breast.
Suddenly, without warning, he flashed his eyes to Natalie’s and what she saw shocked her. It was an unguarded, unplanned moment of complete honesty. She read the attraction there, the awe, the desire. If he’d said it out loud, you’re beautiful, she’d have been able to scoff at it, to dismiss it as pretty words.
But he said nothing. He merely let her see it in every line of his face, exactly what he thought of her and her body, her imperfections, her perfection, her presence, her gift to him. She knew him well enough to read all of it there. When she lifted her arms from above her head and toward him, he crawled the rest of the way up and went willingly into her embrace. He slid his hands underneath her and held her as tightly as she held him. Their faces were buried against one another as the hug got stronger and stronger.
When he pulled back from the hug, his mouth finally found hers. What had been fleeting, glancing kisses earlier turned into luxurious, sweeping kisses. She was certain they were heating him the same way they were heating her. All at once, he tipped his weight to the side and dragged her onto his chest. She kissed him the way she had on his kitchen floor, searching kisses that asked for everything. And he delivered. He gave her everything. There was no part of either of their mouths that went unexplored, unanswered.
When she was vibrating, liquid, halfway to losing it, she grabbed him by the shoulders and tipped her weight to the side like he’d done. Only, due to their strength and weight discrepancy, she couldn’t roll him the way he had her. She ended up on her back and he was up on his side again, looking down at her.
“Raphael,” she whispered.
Understanding came into his eyes. This time, when he crawled over her, he did so slowly, intentionally. She automatically hitched her legs onto his hips as he settled between her legs.
His eyes on hers, he reached down and found her with his fingers again. Slowly, he opened her.
“You want me, Nat?”
Even through all the viciously sparking heat in his eyes, she knew this was a genuine question. He was truly asking. Truly making sure that this was exactly what she wanted.
She spread her legs even further. “Raphael,” she whispered again. “Yes.”
Raph pushed forward, into her, slowly, but he never stopped. There was something so Raph about th
e way he did it. Just the right amount of pressure, right to the edge of how much he knew she could take. Nat tipped herself up to him as he dropped his forehead to hers. He was a lot to take so he had to pull out an inch to push back in two and finally, he was inside of her to the hilt.
She gasped for air, her fingers opening and closing on his back. He rolled his face and took her kiss, sucked it down with his air, said her name over and over against her lips. When he finally started to move, Natalie’s eyes popped wide and she twisted her head for air, more air.
He reared up a bit so that he could watch her face. She lifted her hips to meet his strokes and when she turned her head, she caught the tail end of a smile on his face. His expression gave way to a sort of blissed intensity as he pushed deep inside of her and pulsed, grinding against her more than he was thrusting. He hitched one of her legs further up and started grinding in circles against her.
She tossed her head back and gasped his name, working her hips, trying to get even closer to him. She tugged her leg out of his grasp and propped it on his shoulder, allowing him to open her up even further.
His eyes flared in appreciation and he turned his head to kiss her calf before he resumed turning her inside out with what was, apparently, a magic dick.
Natalie was trembling as she strained toward her orgasm, his strokes doubled in intensity and speed, there was sweat on his forehead and his eyes slammed shut.
“God, Nat. God. Baby. Fuck.”
He was losing a battle that she desperately wanted him to lose. Her interest in her own orgasm temporarily waned. She wanted, so badly, to study his face while he came. While he came inside her. Curiosity swelled up in her as she started to thrust her hips against him, trying to get him there.
His eyes popped open, startlingly clear. “Oh, no you don’t,” he growled, dropping his lips to hers, taking both of her legs and wrapping them around his waist.
From there he started in on long, round, grinding strokes that had her back coming up off the bed. Nat quickened, sparkled, she was gonna go.
