Desire replaced tension, her need to touch every inch of Rafe grounded her, gave her humanity in ways nothing else could. Sex was primal, necessary, both light and dark, both good and bad. Sex connected two people physically, but what Moira felt for Rafe went far beyond simple lust. With every sigh, every touch, every need, she fell deeper into the abyss, a place she’d never escape. She didn’t want to, because this abyss was love, and she would fight to protect this precious bond.
Moira ran her hands down Rafe’s bare back. She’d memorized every scar on his body, all the damage inflicted on him in the past-days ago, years ago, decades ago. Her fingertips traced the ridges as the scars cut south, to the waistband of his boxers, then back up again, until she squeezed his shoulders. She whispered, “I need you.” And she did, more than she’d admit to anyone, even Rafe, except for now. When they were isolated, alone, together in the darkest hours of the night.
She pulled off her tank top with one hand and tossed it aside, so now both of them were completely naked except for her panties and his boxers. Rafe’s hand skimmed over her breasts. “Come to me, sweetness,” he whispered, then breathed warmly into her ear, sending shivers along each nerve ending, down and back. She kissed his neck, ran her teeth over his jawline, lightly biting his earlobe when she tasted it. His long, hard body pinned her to the mattress and for one torturous, exquisite moment neither of them moved. Time stopped, the only sound their hearts and breath.
Rafe clasped her hands in his and spread them out on the bed. His lips sought hers, slow and firm, a long kiss she never wanted to end. Her skin basked in Rafe’s scent, his heat, his love. She yearned for much more than this breathtaking kiss, but she didn’t want to move.
And still he kissed her, his fingers entwined with hers, his arms pressed against her arms, his bare chest hot against hers. Now she squirmed beneath him, her passion fighting the restraints of Rafe’s methodical seduction.
He tilted his head up, breaking the kiss, his lips curved in a half smile that alone would have knocked her socks off. “Is this lust, Moira? Or is it love?”
His eyes locked on hers and she realized he expected an answer. He’d been hurt the other day when she’d implied that maybe their passionate feelings for each other had been the result of the demon Lust, not their own desires.
She licked her lips and swallowed. The intensity of Rafe’s stare had her heart quicken. He brought one hand to her breast and held it there, right above her heart, and waited for her to respond.
She leaned up to kiss him, but he leaned away, not taking his eyes from hers.
“Rafe-”
“Tell me.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Moira watched Rafe’s expression, both patient and passionate. He wanted an answer and would wait forever to get it, even if he had to keep her lying here for hours. Days. She swallowed, wanting more time. Time for them. What if she loved so deeply that she couldn’t think? That she couldn’t fight? That she couldn’t protect those she cared about out of fear for their lives and souls?
Then she realized that love wasn’t something she could stop. Love couldn’t be turned on and off like a faucet. Love existed between two people who valued each other more than themselves, who recognized that together they were stronger, not weaker. The depth of her love for Rafe couldn’t be regulated or controlled. Her love, their love, simply was.
“It’s always been love,” she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them, before she could reconsider the step she was taking. Maybe she thought too much, analyzed too much. “From that first moment I found you, it’s been love. Each day it grows stronger until I feel like I’m drowning with these emotions. I am scared.” Her voice cracked. “But I love you so much.”
Rafe had been waiting to hear those words, even though he knew them to be true long before Moira accepted the fact. He kissed her, this time with the passion and urgency he’d been holding back, waiting for her to open her heart. He let go of her hand and her arms wrapped around him, moving up and down his back, her fingers pressing into his muscles inch by inch, as if memorizing every cell in his body. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, his tongue tasting her salty skin, his nose breathing in the light, floral soap she’d showered with. But under the faint perfume, Moira shined. Her touch, her taste, her scent was so familiar Rafe could believe he’d known her for a lifetime.
He kissed the soft, delicate skin under her chin, moved down and painstakingly kissed every inch of her smooth skin around the base of her breasts, circling until his mouth reached her nipple. He drew the nub in slowly, held it until Moira groaned and tried to flip him to his back. She was strong, but he was stronger, and he pinned her back down with a grin. “I’m not done.”
“You’re driving me crazy, Rafe.”
“Likewise, sweetness.” He reached down and skirted his fingers over her panties.
“Take them off,” she demanded.
“Or what?”
Her eyes flashed with sexy humor. “Or I won’t play nice.”
“I’m not playing.”
He slid down her body, the blankets falling to the floor at the end of the bed. The room was near black, only a dim streetlight splitting the room in half through the slit in the hotel’s curtains, wrapping them in dark and light shadows. Moira’s body was long, lean, and full of energy she could barely restrain. He had to give her credit for the attempt; Moira was not a woman who laid around limply. She was life itself.
He took off her panties as she’d commanded and dropped them to the floor. He rubbed each of her calves in turn, his thumbs memorizing every curve of her tight muscles, every one of the soft spots, the tender points under her knees, the fine lines where one well-defined muscle met another. She squirmed, her hands grabbing the sheet beneath them, as he worked his hands up past her knees, parting her glorious legs as he kissed her inner thigh. First one side, then the other. She trembled, and Rafe smiled. She was trying so hard not to take control. It went against her nature, and he loved her more for it. For trusting him.
When Rafe’s mouth skimmed Moira between her legs she gasped and pulled at the sheet, trying in vain to hold back her explosion. She thought she felt his smile, or maybe it was a chuckle, but she heard nothing except the hot rush of her blood. She might have cried out, she didn’t know, she didn’t care; all she wanted was this moment to never stop at the same time she wanted it to end. How could something that felt so wonderful be so agonizing?
Rafe’s hot breath teased her, and then he kissed her at her center, his tongue mimicking lovemaking, and she did call out then as she lost all control, every muscle in her body tightening, then releasing all at once in a rolling wave of ecstasy.
She barely caught her breath and Rafe was doing it again, torturing her with his firm, deliberate kisses. She’d had enough of submitting to him.
Rafe wasn’t surprised when Moira relaxed completely, then pounced on him, efficiently flipping him to his back. Except that he was too close to the edge of the bed and they tumbled to the floor. She ended up on top, her eyes narrowed, a small smile on her face. She was glowing in her passion and her love, and Rafe reached up to pull her down to him.
“My turn,” she said and roughly pulled down his boxers.
Rafe closed his eyes, letting all his senses focus on Moira’s touch. She was not as patient as he’d forced himself to be. She kissed his thighs, then nipped him, her hands moving from his legs to his stomach to his ass, where she squeezed at the same time as she licked the underside of his penis. He gasped, instinctively reaching for her head, her hair twisting in his hands. She slid her entire mouth around him and he was teetering on the edge.
“Make love to me, Moira,” he said. “Love me, sweetness.”
She rose above him looking like an angel, her dark wavy hair falling tangled around her face. She straddled him, directing his penis with her strong, slender fingers, until he slipped in. She pushed him deep inside with o
ne thrust and froze. Her eyes closed, her mouth partly open, the narrow strip of light cutting across her breast, she was the most beautiful, sexiest woman Rafe had ever seen.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded. “Look at me, love.”
At first her gaze was unfocused with pleasure. He relished Moira’s ability to do everything with intense passion, but it was here as they made love that she truly came alive.
He leaned up, the friction between them making them both gasp, but he had to kiss those lips. He had to taste her. He locked her in the kiss until she shuddered, vibrating deep inside where he felt it with the tip of his penis. Primal need had him thrusting, then he fell back to the floor and said, “I’m all yours.”
Moira was momentarily overpowered when her last barriers collapsed, washed away in a flood of unconditional trust and love flowing from Rafe’s aura. She hadn’t realized until now that she’d been holding back her senses, but the last remnants of fear disappeared with her walls. In this one perfect moment she blended with Rafe as if she were sharing his soul, and he sharing hers. Their thoughts, their feelings, their bodies were one, a perfect union.
“Don’t cry,” Rafe said.
“I’m not.” She wiped her face, surprised there were tears on her cheeks. “I love you so much.”
Moira lowered her body onto Rafe’s, kissed his chest softly as they moved together in a slow, steady rhythm. She let him roll her over, their limbs entwined, their separate bodies becoming one. In unison they encouraged the other, urging each other at the same pace, spiraling higher the faster their bodies moved. Hands linked, they stared in each other’s blue eyes; Moira’s bright, Rafe’s dark, saw their love as they felt it.
Moira’s lips involuntarily parted as Rafe brought her to the edge. She teetered there, and Rafe put his mouth on hers, kissing her as she gasped. He held himself deep inside her, his entire body rigid, then with a deep cry that bordered on a growl, he began to shake as he could no longer hold back his ecstasy.
Moira dove right off the edge with Rafe, holding him as a flash of hot, white light preceded an incredible orgasm, fueled by lust and love, trust and passion. Nothing existed except them, and they became one, holding still, the diminishing shudders that surged through their bodies touching the most tender spots inside and out.
Rafe pulled the blankets that had fallen on the floor around both of them. He held Moira close, their bodies still hot and slick with sweat. He didn’t want to let her go, and kissed her again, lightly, tenderly.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Moira said wistfully.
“We have now.”
“Yes, we have now.” She sighed and shivered.
Rafe reluctantly rose to his feet, picking Moira up with him. He laid her on the bed, covered her with the blankets and spooned his body around hers. She hugged his arm to her chest and breathed out a long, steady moan.
“Sleep, sweetness,” Rafe said. “I will be here when you wake up.”
She melted into his arms with a contented sigh. They lay wrapped together, unmoving, Rafe’s hand over Moira’s heart. He focused on her steady pulse as it slowed to a soft, even beat; he listened to her breathing as it evened out, rhythmic, calming.
Rafe watched Moira’s face, surprisingly peaceful and vulnerable in sleep. She trusted him, otherwise she wouldn’t be resting so soundly. His chest tightened painfully at what they would be facing over the next weeks, months, even years. But maybe this love was God’s way of giving them something so good, so pure, so perfect that they could survive the future.
“It’s always been love.”
“Yes, Moira,” he murmured, “it’s always been love.”
Rafe drifted into a light, troubled sleep.
I wasn’t alone in there.
Julie’s voice startled him and his eyes flashed open. She wasn’t here. She was dead, but her words haunted him. He hadn’t told Moira what Julie had said. But until he had more answers, he would keep the information to himself.
He tightened his grip around Moira, and she tensed, then relaxed again, as if sensing his uneasiness. He had more questions than answers, and he feared he might be more a danger to Moira than her unknown future. But he would not hurt her. He would die first.
Perhaps Julie was wrong. Perhaps it was the memories that made her think she wasn’t alone. Or the spirits that had flooded through him on their way to the astral plane. Moira would sense if something was supernaturally wrong with him. Her perceptions were extraordinary. All he had was memories, and there had to be a logical explanation. He would find it. He had to, for both him and Moira, and for their future.
He thought back to Rod Fielding’s observation about the amygdala, the primitive core of the brain. The part that housed basic emotions. The foundation on which the Seven Deadly Sins fed. The memory center of the brain … primitive memories. Nothing was more primitive than fear.
Rafe prayed for answers that did not come, except for a deep-primitive-need to protect Moira at all costs. Moira’s life was Rafe’s responsibility. He knew it with as strong a certainty as he knew that he loved her. It was his sacred duty. Even if he had to die. Even if he had to kill.
Moira whimpered once in her sleep and Rafe whispered in her ear, “I’m here, sweetness. Don’t be afraid, I’m right here with you.”
Dawn broke over the Los Padres Mountains before Rafe slept again.
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Document creation date: 10.11.2012
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Carnal Sin sds-2 Page 35
