by Zoe York
He moved on top of her, settling himself better between her legs. If they went to bed, they could lose at least some of their clothes. “Are you tired?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” He hauled her up in one swift motion and tossed her over his shoulder like a rag doll. He strode into the bedroom, setting her down just long enough to whip off his shirt. She giggled as he wrapped his arms around her again and lifted her high against his body.
“We keep meeting like this,” she said breathlessly, tightening her thighs around his waist.
“My arms were made to hold you,” he said. It was supposed to sound romantic, but they both started laughing. “Too much?” he asked as he pressed her against the wall, freeing one hand to start exploring under her shirt as the other cupped her magnificent ass.
She gasped as his thumb found her nipple on the outside of her bra. “Nope, totally…sweet.”
“I wasn’t going for sweet,” he growled, sucking on her neck.
“Sweet in a…” She interrupted herself with a moan. “Take my clothes off kind of way.”
He froze. “All the way off?”
She nodded.
He shoved his hand higher, all the way under her shirt and up out the scoop neck. He traced a line up her neck and tapped on her chin. She blinked hard as she looked him in the eye. “That’s a big step.”
“Trying to talk me out of it?” she squirmed, trying to make more deliberate contact with his erection. He jerked hard against her and then tilted his hips out of reach.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He traced circles around her collarbone with his index finger, just watching her as she wriggled against the wall. He shifted closer and kissed one cheekbone ever so lightly, then the other. “Are we officially back together?”
“Maybe?”
He pulled back and raised his eyebrows. “Maybe?”
“Can’t we just do this?” She licked her lips and arched toward him. “I don’t want to think about what we’d tell people if we started dating again.”
They already know. “We don’t need to tell them anything,” he said, not really a lie. He tugged the low neckline of her t-shirt down, exposing the lace of her bra. “I definitely don’t want to share this with anyone.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Dating?” She ran her hands over his shoulders, up into his hair, and back again.
“We should figure that out before we go any further,” he said before diving in for another kiss.
She slid her hands around his neck and squeezed, trying to get him closer. “That would be smart.”
“The right thing to do.” He tightened his hold on her and spun them around, aiming for the bed. She landed in the middle and he stood over her, half out of his mind with lust. “Take off your clothes.”
“So much for talking?”
“It’ll give us something to fight about tomorrow.” His heart pounded in his chest, his dick strained at his fly, and all of a sudden he needed this to be real. Enough playing. “Olivia, I don’t know what we’re doing. But I love you.”
“Good enough for me,” she whispered, unbuttoning her jeans. He did the same, never taking his eyes off of her as every curve he’d missed for too damn long came into view. Soft, smooth, porcelain skin, dipping and swelling around red mesh panties that left very little to the imagination.
“Oh baby,” he groaned, falling on top of her.
“We need a condom,” she said as he helped slide her out of her t-shirt, then her bra and finally those teasing bottoms.
Fuck. “I don’t have one.” He was an idiot. Of course she’d want him to wear a rubber. “It’s okay, we can do other stuff.”
Her mouth parted and she let out a breathless little sound that made him hard as nails. “Other stuff?”
He grinned. “I want to lick you till you scream.”
“I like the sound of that.” She licked her lips. “But I really wanted…”
He pressed his forehead against hers as she blushed. “Me too, baby.”
She twisted toward the bedside table. “I might have some in here, hang on.”
He followed her, pressing against her back. “Two years, Liv,” he rasped against the nape of her neck. “It’s been two years. I’m going to come on your legs like a fifteen-year-old boy in a minute.”
She froze. “You haven’t slept with anyone else?”
“I never wanted anyone else. I just want you.” Admitting that should have been humbling, but it just felt freeing to admit. He could blame the height of passion if it came up later. After he made love to his wife.
She rolled back toward him, making enough space between them for his cock to wave free like a fucking flagpole. Her breaths were slow and heavy as she stroked his rock-hard length. “You promise me—”
He cut her off with a kiss. “There’s been no one else, Liv. I swear.”
“Me too. And I’m still on the pill.”
“We don’t need to…I’m good with whatever.” But oh god, he’d missed being inside her, and he wasn’t sure he’d kept a pleading tone out of his voice. Fuck it. He didn’t care.
Her eyes were wide and bright as she stared at him, and it wasn’t until he felt her warm, wet folds on the head of his cock that he realized she’d lifted her leg and was slowly bringing them together. Jesus Christ, she was slippery as fuck and felt amazing. After teasing him for a painfully glorious minute, swirling her hips and lodging just the tip of his cock inside her, she pushed him back and straddled his hips. It took all of his restraint to not surge up and into her tight heat, but she was in charge.
She sank down an inch or two, then up again, easing him slowly into her tight channel. She felt incredible, inside and out. “I’m not going to last long,” she admitted shakily, and he gave a silent prayer of thanks.
“Come for me, baby.” He stroked his hands up and down her thighs, then up and over her belly and down to her mound. She liked a thumb right there, just above her clit, rocking back and forth. In the past she’d done it, and he’d watched her fingers fly just above where they were joined. But tonight he wanted to bring her to the brink. It would satisfy some base male need inside him to be the instrument of all her pleasure.
She tipped her head back as she started to move her hands up and down her torso. Reedy, whispery moans slipped out of her mouth as she picked up the pace, squeezing him inside and out. He couldn’t hold back, pumping his hips in time to her lift and sway. Driving deep. How had he given her up? Nothing was like this, that incredible otherworldly sensation of sliding into his mate. Slick and soft and infinitely powerful at the same time.
His balls drew tighter against his body as she ground her pelvis hard against his hand and she tipped forward as her orgasm started, catching herself with her hands pressed to the bed on either side of his head. She held her breath, eyes wide open and shiny bright, as she started pulsing from the inside out. He kept thrusting, chasing his own orgasm as she gasped his name over and over again, and then he was there.
His eyes rolled back in his head and everything went blurry for a minute. He felt Liv settle on his chest, then shift to his side, and all he could do was mumble and pet her hair. When his legs unlocked and he’d managed to blink his eyes back to clear vision, he rolled over and pulled her tight against his body. He was never letting her go.
“You have to let go,” she laughed, as if she could read his mind, and he shook his head roughly.
“You stay here, I’ll get a washcloth.”
“Under the sink!” she called out, but he knew. He ran two of them under the hot water tap, then rung them out. He snagged a towel off the shelf in the bathroom as well.
Back in her bedroom, he stopped and stared for a minute. She was too beautiful for words, stretched out naked for him.
“Stop it, you’re being weird.” She smiled shyly and covered her eyes. “Turn out the light.”
He flipped the switch for the overhead light, but turned on the lamp immediately after. “I want to look a
t you all night long.”
She laughed. “That’s your prerogative, but I need to work tomorrow.”
“Call in sick.”
She shook her head, her eyes trained on his. “Can’t do it.” It was a challenge of sorts. Understand that my jobs matter just as much as yours do. He did.
“Fair enough, baby.” He climbed in next to her and nudged her legs open.
“Careful,” she breathed.
“Sensitive?” He touched one of the washcloths to the lips of her sex and she bit her lip and nodded. His dick throbbed like he could go again. Damn. “I’ll be gentle.” He cupped her with the warm cloth and leaned to kiss her mouth. He meant it to be sweet and delicate, but she parted her lips for him and he sank inside.
Kissing Liv was like being fed the best food in the world and only getting hungrier. Reward and temptation all rolled into one. She arched her back, pressing her big, gorgeous breasts into his chest. He flicked the washcloth over his shoulder and cupped one swollen peak. Her nipple stood proudly at attention, begging for a kiss of its own, and he closed his mouth over it. The firm nub teased his tongue and he sucked more of her flesh into his mouth. He wanted all of her, over and over again. Rolling her to her back, he loved her other breast, then back again, burying his face in the valley between them before kissing his way south.
Even as she lifted her hips toward his mouth, she was begging him to be gentle. He spread her thighs and blew a breath across her swollen cleft. He could be a fucking feather if that’s what she needed. He kissed the softness at the top of one thigh, then the other, savouring the moment before he actually tasted her. The scent of her sweet musk worked its way into his brain and all thinking ceased.
* * *
— —
* * *
Rafe’s tongue parting her folds was the best damn feeling in the entire world. She felt herself open for him and then he was licking around her clit in delicate circles and all of a sudden she didn’t care about being sore. She pressed her hands into his hair, urging him to suck on her, to eat her up until she exploded from the awesomeness of it all.
“Ooooh, oh, oh, oh,” she panted, getting louder with each breathy exclamation. “Rafe, oh god, Rafe. Jesus, I love you. Oh, yes, right there. Right—“ Her words devolved into guttural noises then, embarrassingly loud, and for a minute she forgot that she’d just told him that she loved him in the middle of oral sex.
He didn’t miss it, though. He rode out her orgasm with his face pressed tight against her sex, then he kissed his way up her body and notched his impressively heavy cock against her soaking wet pussy. “Is this okay?” he whispered against her neck.
She nodded wordlessly and he eased inside, seating himself deep in her pelvis. He was big and hard and he filled her so completely, stretching her body in a glorious way she’d almost forgotten about. She’d remembered that sex was good and she missed it, but the details had gotten foggy—that thin line between pleasure and pain that is only understood in the moment. When raw, swollen skin wants to be pressed to the limit again.
He cupped her neck with one hand and used the other to lift her boneless body up underneath him as he surged into her again and again, slowly and deliberately. Marking her. “You love me,” he whispered, and she nodded again. “Say it.”
She shook her head. If she said it, she’d start crying.
“Say it, baby. Tell me you love me when my face isn’t buried in your pussy.” His cock flexed deep inside her and she groaned. He kept it up, a stream of filthy words that made her slippery with want, until she grabbed his face and stilled his lips with a press of her finger.
“Enough.” She licked her lips as he pressed into her and onto her and somehow, right through her. “I love you, Rafe.”
He stared at her for a minute, his eyes dark, his lips swollen and wet, and then he kissed her, an all-consuming declaration that she was his, no more hedging around it. She opened her mouth like she’d opened her heart, consequences be damned, and he poured himself into her in every possible way, carrying her with him.
Chapter 16
FOR the first time in two years, Olivia woke up to smells and sounds of someone in her kitchen. She cracked an eyelid. It was still dark out. Rafe was whistling.
Oh god. This was what pure happiness felt like. She closed her eyes and let herself drift back into quasi-sleep as memories from the night before warmed her from the inside out. They’d been insatiable, both of them. When she tried to picture it, all she saw was a tumble of limbs, sliding back and forth, skin-on-skin. Two people completely entwined, rolling from one position to the next, hungry for so much more.
“You’re blushing,” His voice in the doorway made her smile.
“You can’t know that, it’s dark.” She peeked through her eye lashes to confirm that was still the case.
“You blushed for most of the night, every time your leg touched my hard-on. It’s an easy bet you’re pink all over now that you’re awake and remembering what we did.”
She laughed, then sobered up. “You had a hard-on all night long?” And did they have time to do something about it before she went to work?
He came closer and she smelled the coffee as he set two mugs on the side table. “Want to take a shower with me and get reacquainted with him?”
She tossed off the blankets. Heck ya.
He washed her hair, his erection bobbing against her back the whole time, but when she reached for him, he shook his head. He pressed her against the tile wall and kissed her instead, a proper good morning kiss like the day before at the diner. “I was kidding about that.”
“I wasn’t,” she said, wrapping her hand around his shaft. “I didn’t get to taste you last night.”
She dropped to her knees and kissed the very tip of him, then licked her lips, easing the way for the head to slide into her mouth. She fisted her hand right behind his foreskin, relishing the way he throbbed under her touch. As one, she moved her hand and her mouth down his shaft until her pinky finger hit the firm flat of his lower abdomen. He grunted and leaned forward, bracing himself against the wall as she cupped his balls with her other hand.
Power sizzled through her veins as she looked up at him. His eyes, half-hooded with desire, tracked her every movement. In and out, lick and suck. She ducked her head and concentrated on her task. It didn’t take long before his legs were shaking and his shaft swelled in her mouth. She swallowed hard, pulling him into her throat and he started swearing. One of his hands cupped the back of her head and she pulsed her tongue along the underside of his cock, urging him to spill himself in her mouth.
He hissed her name, a long, drawn out warning she didn’t need. She knew she had him as his sac tightened in her hand. She stroked her fingertips right there, along the seam, and that did it. He thudded his hips against her face, his hand cushioning the thump of her head against the wall, and came hard right where she wanted him.
She slid between his legs and stood behind him, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back before leaving him leaning against the wall to recover. She dried off, went to the larger closet in the hall to find a Rafe-sized bath sheet, then the bedroom for the coffee he’d made her. A quick glance at the clock told her she still had an hour before work. Her husband was a freak of nature, waking up so early on his day off.
He was still leaning against the tile, water sluicing down his back, when she returned.
“Can I dry you off, mister?”
He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head at her. “Come any closer, woman, and you’re going to drain the very last of my reserves.”
She perched on the toilet seat and sipped her coffee while he slowly returned to full function.
“What do you have going on today?” He asked as he padded down the hall in search of his own cup. She followed.
“Diner first, but just a half-day today because I worked a full-day yesterday and the new girl is doing well. Did I tell you that Frank wants me to keep working there on Wednesdays until
the filming actually begins? It’s okay with Greg, because I’m going to end up working evenings and weekends a bit, like next week’s community meeting…” She trailed off as she realized he was staring at her with a strange look on his face. Good, but strange. “What?”
“You’re telling me about your day. You love me, we’re both naked from the shower, and you’re telling me—“ He reached out and hauled her toward him. She just barely managed to perch her coffee mug on the side table again before he’d pulled her onto the bed. “This is good,” he said, kissing her forehead.
She pressed her hand to his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. No, she thought. This is great.
* * *
— —
* * *
It remained great for exactly one week.
Greg and Ashley arrived bright and early the following Thursday, a cold, clear day, and she met them at the Blue Heron Lane cottages. She didn’t have a shift at the diner until the following week, so she was in total movie-mode. She’d woken up when Rafe left for his shift at dark o’clock, and spent the next hour in front of her closet trying to decide what to wear. She’d already settled on dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a corduroy blazer for the community meeting that night, but she wanted that outfit to be fresh in the evening.
Every single pair of pants she owned ended up tossed on the bed before she settled on black pants and a red long-sleeve cashmere blend sweater she’d only worn once the previous Christmas when she’d gone to her sister’s. She set them aside and returned everything else to some semblance of normal before ducking into the bathroom to brush her hair. She stared at herself in the mirror. Maybe it was time to ditch the ponytail. She hated the randomness of her waves when she left it down, but she had enough time today that she could blow dry her hair straight. And then it would still look good for the meeting.
An hour later, she stopped at the diner and ordered herself a coffee to go. Frank made noises about her never looking so fancy when she worked for him, but his eyes promised he was still proud of her. She blew him a kiss and promised she’d be back later with her new boss, which only made him grumble even more, although the last bit was something about the man being a good tipper.
