'You might be OK,' she began. Hell, words were so useless.
She pressed her lips to his chest, relishing the sweet clean flavour of his freshly showered skin as she delicately circled her tongue over it, tasting and exploring. It wasn't meaningless platitudes that either of them needed now, but affirmative action. Against all the odds, and in the face of everything that had happened, suddenly she was the earth mother, the nurturer.
While they both had life, sex was the clearest and sweetest expression of it.
When she found Rafe's nipple, he groaned as she nipped it and flicked the tip of her tongue over it. His hands, which had been light upon her, gripped harder.
'What are you doing, love? I... I don't deserve anything from you.' His voice was rough as he began to move uneasily against her. She sensed a war in him, the battle between lust and deeper feelings of guilt and unease.
'Well, you're getting it anyway,' she purred against his skin. Renewing her efforts, she sucked hard on his tiny teat, while at the same time pulling at the bedding and removing the last physical barriers between them. As she pressed closer, she toppled Rafe back against the pillows, following him over using the momentum of her own body, her mouth still at his chest, tasting and kissing.
'Oh, God!' he said as she reached for his cock.
He was thickening, already quite hard, a little satin-textured fluid oozing from the eye. Paula slid her thumb over the tiny aperture, taking up the moisture and beginning to massage him with it. She synchronised her strokes with the action of her mouth and her tongue. Rafe made a low, rumbling sound of appreciation, the vibration of it thrumming through her lips.
How can I be doing this? she thought as she worked him, rubbing her own rousing body against the mattress as she ministered to him. I barely know him. I shouldn't trust him. He's great in bed but, in some ways, I'm not even sure I like him.
And yet all this was meaningless as her body spoke to his.
He was a bastard but, she sensed, deep inside, there was a good man. A man life had screwed over, and who, being human, had fucked up now and again as a result.
Like everyone.
Beneath her, Rafe's body tensed and arched. There was a thump, then another, and straining to look upwards whilst still sucking on his nipple, she saw that he'd grabbed on hard to the brass bed rails above his head.
'Oh, love ... oh, love ...' he groaned, making the whole bed creak as she delicately fondled the groove beneath the head of his cock with her thumb-tip.
As she stroked him, her own sex ached and seem to yawn wide with sudden need. Flexing her thighs, she pressed herself down hard, rotating her hips and rubbing her sensitised clit against the sheet.
Pleasure flared with the friction. Simple, primitive pleasure that rooted her in the moment. God alone knew what lay ahead, for herself and for Rafe. There could be a result for both of them or it could be very, very bad. But for now, she was here, alive, and Isidora wasn't anywhere. And Rafe too had his health and strength and the ability to take joy in sex. Clearing her mind as best she could, she focused on him. After one last kiss, on the tip of his teat, she ventured southwards.
He was sweating now, and his clean skin had acquired a salty flavour. She licked his abdominals, then his tidy indented navel. 'Oh, Christ!' he moaned again, his pelvis lifting. When she thrust in hard, her tongue a point, he jerked again.
With her hand flat on his belly, she probed again, smiling inside at his response. How sensitive he was here. How momentarily helpless he seemed. She had his pride and joy in her hand and she was reducing him to a slave to his senses with her tongue. Feeling wicked, she slid her free hand beneath his bottom and touched a finger to his anus.
'Jesus ... Jesus ...' Craning her neck slightly, she saw him tossing his head, his shadowed face, beautiful and tormented. 'Oh, God, woman, that's sublime... Don't stop!'
With a flicker of disquiet, she wondered for a second whether he thought she was Isidora. Then realised that, like any man, when so far gone he was probably at the mercy of his senses and beyond caring. She gave a little shrug as she continued to pleasure him. It was a universal truth, a man's response. She couldn't blame him.
'Oh, Paula ... Paula...' he crooned as she flickered her fingertip rudely in his cleft. 'Oh, Paula, my dear love, you're amazing.'
Love? Love? Did he mean that? She paused infinitesi-mally, then went on with her ministrations. Men said anything when they were getting their ends away and hoping for more, but there was a raw thread in his voice, a crack of emotion that seemed divorced from flesh and sex.
Exerting pressure with her finger, her tongue and her thumb, she chose to believe him. At least for now. She'd face the truth, mundane and complicated, out of bed. This man was flawed, so very flawed, but she also cared for him. Whether it was love or anything like it, on her part it didn't matter in the capsule of this moment.
Rafe was squirming, murmuring, grunting but, even as he praised her, she began to feel he was resisting. After a few moments, he let go of the bed rails and slid his hands down her body and urged her up and off him with a firm but tender force.
'Didn't you like that?' she asked, knowing it was a nonsense question, yet wondering how a man who'd been enjoying himself so much could call a halt to that enjoyment.
'Bloody hell, Paula, it was fucking amazing but there was nothing in it for you. I want us to share. I want to give you pleasure too.'
Grasping her by the flanks, he rolled her over, flipping the balance of power as they went. His eyes gleamed in the darkness as he looked down on her. With a strange little frown of regret, he swooped down to kiss her lips.
It was a tender kiss. A sweet kiss that slowly and deliciously gathered fire. His tongue finally dipped between her lips, tasting and probing with gentleness and promise. Making a sound of pleasure beneath his breath, he cupped her breast and strummed his thumb across its crest.
Suddenly so excited that she couldn't stop herself wriggling and moaning, Paula spread her legs in anticipation and an attempt to lure him between them. As if silently answering her, Rafe's hand began to rove, sliding downwards and travelling to her belly.
Where it paused, resting softly ... measuring, testing.
'Sorry, just me. No one's in the house,' she whispered in his ear, lifting her hips again as he settled a small kiss on the edge of her jaw.
'I know. I wouldn't be doing this if there were.' His tongue feathered her skin. 'I'm done fucking demons, love. I only want you.'
Something shivered in the region of Paula's heart, a deep emotion that had nothing to do with what had happened to her recently. This was what she'd always wanted. A man who wanted only her. She'd had a history of falling for men who were interested in other women, her former crush on Jonathan being just the latest instance.
'And I only want you,' she proclaimed softly, sliding her hand down and curving it around his hip, trying to drag him over her. 'So let's have each other, shall we?' She laughed, and Rafe answered with his own chuckle.
'God, I'd love to ... I'd love to...' He rolled towards her.
Then hesitated.
'What is it?' Cold fear gripped Paula. Could he sense something that she couldn't? Was Isidora already bearing down upon her?
'I don't have another condom handy, love.' His voice was low and grave. 'We can't fuck.'
Instantly she saw it. She got his reasons. All of them.
'I've always played safe,' he said falteringly, wracked with emotion, 'but because of my ... my heritage as much as anything.' He reached round and placed his hand over hers where she still held him. 'And there's no way I'd put you at risk, in any kind of way.'
She believed him. The cards were on the table now and she knew he spoke the truth. Her fingers tightened, curled around the curve of his bottom cheek, trying to convey complex feelings through the simple skin on skin.
He lay against her, still. And hard. His erection pressed against her thigh, not fading despite their situation. The feel of it made her own
sex surge, still wanting him.
'Let's get creative, eh?' he said after a pause, adjusting his position. Lacing his fingers with hers, he drew them to his lips and briefly kissed them. Then he freed his hand and slid it between her thighs, cupping her mound.
Paula's heart thudded. She reached up and touched his face, then kissed his jaw. It was smooth-shaven, and she guessed he'd taken advantage of the toiletries in the well-equipped bathroom. A notion flipped through her mind, and then was lost again as Rafe began to stroke her, his fingers stirring the lubrication between her legs. She smiled as he circled her clit, loving the pleasure and vaguely amused by the idea that he might be trying to hypnotise her by playing with her sex.
'Are you trying to put me under?' she gasped, unable to stop hitching her bottom about. Rafe laughed low in his throat, but he didn't miss a beat.
'No, love, I think I'm putting myself under. Or you are, the way you move and wiggle like that.'
Silky honey welled in her cleft as Rafe continued to fondle her while saturating his fingertips with her moisture. She wriggled harder as she realised his intention. A few moments later she felt those fingers pushing into her, two sliding in while his thumb possessed her clit.
'Oh!' she gasped as he began to fuck her with his fingers. It wasn't quite as good as having his cock inside her, but it was such a close second she was soon rising, spinning upwards towards climax. Grabbing at his body, as he worked her, she arched and flexed, her toes gouging the mattress.
Oh, he was good, so good ... The rhythm, the angle, the degree of delicious penetration, again and again. The steady pressure on her clit of his thumb. There was much to be said for having a masseur as a lover. He knew how to use his hands, God, how he knew! Her sex was flowering with an abundance of fluid. A third finger slid into her easily, making a warm and living dildo, fucking her effortlessly. The repeated stretch and tug of it made her groan, buck ... and come!
Deep ripples drew down heaven and drenched her in it. She shouted Rafe's name and gouged his back and his arm, clenching her fingers to hold on to him, make him hers. As she began to descend again, she was panting like a racehorse.
The temptation to just lie there was like a siren call, the need to float and glow like an irresistible drug. But after a few indulgent moments, she struggled against it.
'You now,' she murmured, turning to kiss first his mouth, then his pleasuring hand as she drew it to her lips. Her taste was unexpectedly savoury and strangely addictive as she sucked his fingers.
'Do you want me to suck you?' she said, in between cleaning each finger.
'I want to fuck you,' he replied raggedly, 'And I'm going to, just trust me. I've an idea.'
Trust. Again. She felt it totally for this man she should have been a fool to believe in the very smallest degree. Even when he moved over her, in preparation, slotting himself between her thighs.
What?
Then she realised. He was between her thighs. But just that. His cock was a slippery, almost satin-clad bar of heat as he encouraged her to close her legs and grip him tightly.
It was a sweet compromise, the next best thing, close and intimate. She grinned as he began to thrust, then gasped out loud when he bumped and bumped against her still glowing sex. She grabbed his buttocks, urging him on, goading him to ride.
What a wild, strange, funny, tender fuck. She giggled and mewled and whined as they slapped against each other, the sweat – both his and hers – making their bellies and her thighs squelch and slide.
Eventually, the delicious and incessant knocking against her clit was far too much for her. Whooping with mirth as much as pleasure, she climaxed in a hard and juddering rush. A second later, laughing and shouting, Rafe came too, his narrow hips jack-hammering in violent motion.
'Holy shit, that was fun, love, wasn't it?' he grunted as he rolled off her. He sounded shattered and surprised, but his voice was fond. Hooking his arm around her, he pulled her sideways, off the damp spot.
The bed was wide. There was plenty of room, but she snuggled close and tight, despite the heat their sweating bodies generated.
Despite everything, she felt peace and she could finally trust him.
12 The Cavalry
The bedroom door, swinging open wildly, shattered their slumbers.
Blinking and confused, Paula clung to Rafe as the bedroom filled with people and a woman she'd never seen before, a beautiful Oriental clad in leather, strode towards the bed.
'What the hell is going on?' roared Rafe, grabbing back the sheet when the newcomer summarily tried to wrench it clear of them both. 'Who are you?'
The slender dark-haired woman ignored him and demolished Paula's own attempt to scoot backwards and stay covered by ripping the sheet along its length and throwing the torn fragments away from the bed. With a grip like tempered steel, her assailant captured both her hands and forced them over her head in one smooth sweep.
'Michiko, leave her alone! It's Paula! What are you doing?'
Paula swivelled to see Belinda rushing forwards, with Jonathan at her side, and behind them a slim Oriental man with pink-streaked hair who seemed to be just as confused as she was. She tried to struggle but the hold on her wrists was immovable.
'Michiko' stared down at her for a tenth of a second, but, just as the leather-clad woman seemed to make a decision and reach with her free hand towards Paula's body, another shout of anger, right beside them, broke her concentration.
Lunging wildly across the bed, Rafe launched himself at the Japanese woman.
'Get the fuck off her! Leave her alone!'
He grabbed for Michiko's arm and pulled at it but, getting no response, he hurled his entire body, still naked, at her in a rugby tackle. The combined attempt of Paula's own struggles and Rafe's big male height and weight should have dislodged the other woman. But it made not one bit of difference.
Michiko's dark head came up, and her almond-shaped eyes glittered. Not just a sparkle, but a bright, oscillating twinkle like a special effect out of a movie. She uttered four sharp, guttural words in what was presumably her own language, and with her free hand made a swift but complicated pass.
Rafe went hurtling across the room as if he were a scarecrow who'd been snatched up by a twister.
'Rafe!' Paula wrenched at the grip on her and struggled hard, as hard as she could, but another twinkle and another sleight of hand rendered her powerless. She still tried to move but her limbs seemed to have been stapled to the mattress. Only her eyes obeyed her commands and, despite the dark woman looming over her, she strained to see across the room and check on Rafe.
Panting and winded by a resounding impact with the wall, he was already rising again and coming to her aid, but a third spell blocked him in his tracks. Paula got the impression, faint and fugitive, of a shimmering barrier stretching right across the room. Beyond it, Rafe's face contorted in an effort to shout out but despite his efforts not a single word emerged.
The invisible perimeter didn't seem to affect the others in the room, Belinda, Jonathan and the slim dark Oriental guy, but they all just stood there, keeping their distance.
Michiko stared down at her.
'Isidora, are you here?' she said, her tone low and soft, but at the same time bell-like with authority.
Paula tried another struggle, her muscles cracking almost as she fought her unseen bonds. But when she shouted, she found at least she'd not been silenced, like Rafe.
'Look, you mad bitch, she's not here! It's just me. I'm Belinda and Jonathan's friend, Paula.' She put as much force as she could into her voice, even though it felt as if there were strapping around her chest, hampering her breathing. 'That other bitch, Isidora, she's not here now. She was earlier, I think, but she's gone for the moment.'
The Japanese woman narrowed her eyes and seemed to sniff the air for some elusive odour. Her sharp nose crinkled and she glanced from Paula to Rafe, but then she seemed to relax a little, and Paula realised to her embarrassment that all the Japanese sorcere
ss was smelling was fairly recent sex.
'Very well.'
Michiko released Paula's hands but there was still some kind of magic restraint, holding her in place.
'Look, can't you set us free?' She looked to Rafe and saw rage and thwarted protectiveness in every line of his body. He was still straining against his bonds too.
'One moment ... I must check something. It will be more comfortable if you relax.'
The sorceress's face was gentler now, kinder, and something in the line of her exquisitely arched brows and her cherry-pink painted lips seemed to actually suggest deep compassion.
Paula tried to let go and not fight. It was difficult but she immediately felt better. Alas, Rafe wasn't giving in at all, and his face was still furious with the raw effort of fighting the impossible to get to her.
'Perhaps you could leave us?' Michiko turned to the still watching audience. 'Belinda, Jonathan, I'll meet you in the library in a little while.' Her face became almost tender. 'Hiro-chan, why not find a room for us and stow away our things? That would be most kind.'
Then the beautiful Japanese turned her attention back to the bed and, as the others filed out, to her astonishment Paula found herself being caressed by this mysterious and martial woman she'd only just set eyes on.
Narrow elegant hands slid over her body, gently tapping her skin as if testing its constituents. It wasn't a sexual contact but, despite herself, Paula started to blush. The touch of the Japanese woman's fingers was pleasurable even though she didn't want it to be. Especially when they cruised across her breasts, carefully examining every inch.
Her cheeks flaming, Paula turned her face to the pillow, hearing only the harsh gasp of Rafe's breathing as he still battled against Michiko's magic.
The touch was so light, the woman's fingers so cool and methodical. It was as if she were reading the surface of Paula's sweaty skin.
Which, of course, she was doing, Paula realised.
'It's on my belly, the thing you're looking for. It starts to burn when she's here. Sort of raises like a weal.'
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