The Fabrizio Bride

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The Fabrizio Bride Page 9

by Alyson McLayne


  A grunt of satisfaction vibrated through his chest, and he lifted her against the wall so they were perfectly aligned. She cradled his hips, his shaft grinding into that soft, aching spot at her core. Breaking her mouth free, she whimpered as the sensitive tissue swelled and dampened in welcome. Her other leg wrapped around him, and her ankles linked in the small of his back, knocking her shoes to the floor.

  Then his hands were on her torso moving upward, and she heard the tearing of material as he ripped the tank top from her body. “I liked that blouse,” she protested, barely able to get the words out.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.” His hands covered her breasts through her silky, cream-colored bra, thumbs chafing her pebbled nipples. Heat licked along her skin, and she groaned. He bit down on her neck. “I’ll buy ten, so I can tear every one.”

  Enveloping her in his arms, he walked toward the bed. On the way, he unhooked her bra and pulled it free then lowered his head and took her breast in his mouth. Scalded by the wet heat and driven crazy by the friction of his tongue, she arched backward and held him against her as he licked, sucked and nibbled her flesh like the sweetest candy.

  She hadn’t even realized they’d moved again until her spine hit the top of the quilt. He kissed across to her other breast, his weight settling between her thighs. God, it felt good. She could spend her whole life in this position. She lifted her hips to grind against him. He shuddered and thrust into her, their clothes the only block against penetration.

  Rearing onto his elbows he stared at her. “You’re mine, Princess. Forever. No one else will touch you like this.” Then he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss as if to brand himself onto her. She fought back, her tongue capturing his, her hands tearing at buttons to get to his chest – to mark him, too. Lifting her knees, she dug her heels into his backside, driving him forward.

  Then he wrenched off the bed. She cried out at the loss, even if it was so he could rip off his clothes. She lay back, panting, watching greedily as his tanned, muscled body emerged. So hard, so masculine, with the dark, crisp hairs over his chest and again at his groin where his erection jutted upward, eager to join with her. He was big and heavy, and a quiver of excitement raced through her at the thought of him pushing inside.

  Stretching her. Filling her.

  She closed her eyes and moaned, arching her back as he unzipped her pants and tugged them down her legs. Her silk, cream-colored panties followed. Then he grasped her hips and pulled her toward the edge of the bed. She lifted her head in surprise to see him kneeling in front of her on the carpet. Their gazes locked as he spread her thighs and lifted them over his shoulders.

  “Oh, God.” She tilted her head back, breath shuddering through her when his mouth closed over her damp flesh. It was like an electrical shock of desire. Her hips rocked upward, seeking him, demanding all of him. He licked her in broad strokes, up and down, then his lips closed around her turgid nub at the top, sucking and flicking with his tongue.

  Her release came hard and fast. She cried out and rocked against him, her fingers digging into his hair, not knowing whether to push him away or hold him in place. He made the decision for her, pulling her hands down by her side then locking his arms over her body.

  “Rafe,” she panted, “I can’t move.”

  “Good.” He bit the inside of her thigh.

  She squeaked, and he soothed it with his tongue. Then moved to her other thigh.

  “Rafe, I…ohhhh.”

  He blew on her wet, heated flesh and the sensation sent quivers of need into her womb. She arched upward and dropped her knees open. She wanted him inside her. Now.

  And he complied…with his tongue. Thrusting in and out over and over until she matched his rhythm, her muscles clenching around him as if they could pull him deeper, fill her completely. Frustration rose alongside desire, and she thrashed her head from side to side on the bed, struggling to free her arms so she could grab on and force him to join with her.

  “God, Rafe, please. I need you.” She begged for his full possession, and he responded by moving his hand so it covered her mound, his thumb finding and circling her clitoris. It swelled, and she groaned, pulling her knees back, arching her spine. Panting.

  The heat and pressure built quickly and when she was almost at the peak, her hips thrusting wildly against him, he removed his hand and his tongue and pushed her up the bed. She cried out in distress, but then he was over her, one arm behind her shoulders holding her in place, the other slipping beneath her hips to lift her into position.

  He nudged her entrance with the broad head of his shaft and pushed inside.

  She exploded again. Bright lights flashed behind her closed eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure saturated her body. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, trying to anchor herself, to catch her breath. But he moved inside her, strong, long thrusts that kept her spiraling out of control, reaching again for an even higher peak. His tongue laved up her throat to suck her earlobe into his mouth, creating chaos in her body, causing her to writhe and groan.

  Then he fisted a hand in her hair to hold her still, and dominated her mouth with carnal need. Taking and giving in equal measure as the rhythm of his hips increased. Grew harder and unrestrained.

  Pulling back his head, dark, fierce eyes met hers. His breath rasped through his lungs. “Come for me…now.”

  And she did, sobbing his name on a tide of ecstasy as her body clenched and released around him, causing him to buck wildly and shout her name, too.

  He collapsed heavily on top of her, both of them shuddering and gasping for air. Her legs and arms fell away from him, too weak to hold on any longer. He shifted so his full weight wasn’t on top of her, but he still stayed deep within her body, stroking her hair. Gradually her pulse settled and her breathing slowed.

  After a heavy exhale, he rolled to his side, pulling her with him so they stayed connected.

  “Rafe, I—”

  “Don’t say anything unless it’s that you’ll marry me.”

  His familiar scent cocooned her, and the sound of his heartbeat was a beautiful lullaby under her ear. She wanted to stay there, physically and emotionally linked with him forever.

  “I don’t think—”

  He kissed her. Stole the words from her lips. Soft, gentle kisses, that teased and soothed as he tasted her with his tongue, nibbled with his teeth. His hand stroked feather-light along her spine to the curve of her tailbone, making her shiver. Cupping the soft flesh of her bottom, he kneaded it, holding her flush against him.

  “Don’t think, sweetheart, just feel how good it is between us.”

  She tilted her head back with a soft sigh, and he nuzzled her throat, licking and kissing. Then up to her ear as the hand on her bottom curled around her thigh and pulled it over his hip. She hooked her foot around him, rocked closer as he bit her earlobe then drew it into his mouth. The hot, wet, suction sent a wave of need along her skin to settle low in her belly, radiating outward.

  His hand trailed behind her knee, sketching tiny circles on the tender spot then traveled up the back of her thigh and dipped into the moist crevice at the top.

  She groaned. “Rafe…I…we…”

  He brushed her lips with his. “Just let me love you.”

  Still partially erect inside her, he rocked slowly, running his hand along her spine to settle in her hair. It seemed to last forever, as he lovingly kissed and stroked her everywhere. Worshipped her body. She was a whimpering mass of sensation as the desire built slowly this time then surged suddenly at the end for both of them. She held tight as he rolled her onto her back again and drove deep inside, pushing her over the edge in one stroke. She groaned, and he pumped into her until he found his own release seconds later.

  Exhaustion dragged her into sleep as the warmth of his body covered her. Later, she was vaguely aware he lifted her from the bed and laid her beneath the covers. Then he curled his hard length around her. Several times during the night she woke to the feel of his lips
in her hair, his hands on her body.

  After the last time loving each other, she tucked herself into the curve of his body and sank into dreamless oblivion.

  * * *

  “This was a mistake!”

  Rafe slowly opened his eyes, immediately missing the warmth of Sarika’s body draped over his chest, her legs twined with his. Pushing onto his elbow he spotted her at the end of the bed wrapped in his shirt, her hair tousled and her eye makeup smudged. She looked good enough to eat.

  The look on her face, however, wasn’t good.

  “What did you say?” he asked. He reached out to pull her closer, but she scooted backward off the bed.

  “I said this was a mistake.” She began pacing from the door to the window then back again. "What were we thinking? It’s complicated enough between us without throwing sex into the mix. I don’t trust you anymore, and you certainly don’t trust me—”

  “Yes I do. I know I was wrong before. I apologized.”

  “I’m not even talking about that. That’s a whole other conversation. I’m talking about you not trusting me with your feelings, and that’s what I need most from you. How can we even think of having a relationship when there’s no…no open communication between us. No emotional honesty. You say you want to marry me, but you can’t even say you love me. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  Rafe fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes in frustration, knowing she was just getting warmed up. Why did it always come back to this? They’d be good together – he’d make sure of it this time. Why did she have to analyze his feelings to death?

  “Are even you listening to me?”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her.

  She’d stopped pacing and glared at him from the bottom of the bed. “I said that we didn’t use any birth control. It’s lucky the timing isn’t right or you could be a father in nine months.”

  He sat up slowly, his heart rate increasing. Sarika, carrying his child. “You think you could be pregnant?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “No! I said the timing’s not right. Are we even speaking the same language? And get that look out of your eye. As much as I want a family, we are in no position to start one now.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Well what about next week? Will the timing be right then?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Rafe!”

  “Come on, Sarika. You know I want to marry you. It would make Ana Lisa happy, and I know it would make you happy. I understand you’re having second thoughts about us but—”

  “Of course I’m having second thoughts. Third, fourth, and fifth thoughts. How many people do you know in a happy relationship? Only a few of my friends have it. My parents never had it. My dad—”

  He crawled quickly across the quilt and snagged her wrist before she could retreat. “I am not your father. I would never leave you or our child.”

  Her breath caught, and he saw her bottom lip tremble.

  “You say that now, but…but what if you meet someone else and fall in love? Real love, the kind that leaves you breathless and giddy.”

  “You leave me breathless and giddy.”

  Their eyes met. Her gaze pleaded up at him, causing that familiar clenching in his gut that made him want to run. “Then why weren’t we happy before?”

  “Because I…I…”

  Ah, hell. The question demanded he pry open the door he’d shut and locked so many years before.

  Sitting back on his heels, he rubbed the nape of his neck. What could he say? That she made him crazy? She made him want to squeeze her tight and push her away at the same time? That he was completely out of control around her, and he hated himself for it? Hated his father even more?

  How could he explain to her what he didn’t fully understand himself?

  “Look, Sarika, all I can say is I’ve changed since last year. I want to marry you now – forever. I want to sleep beside you every night, raise a family, and grow old together. I don’t know what else to say to make you believe me.”

  Sarika searched his eyes. That muscle twitched in his jaw, and even though he still held one of her hands, she knew a part of him had pulled away – a protective reaction erected when she’d started digging into his feelings.

  Was she asking too much? Maybe she needed to release her doubts and just accept whatever he could give. People expressed love in different ways.

  She chose her words carefully. “I do believe you, but what I want is an emotional connection, Rafe, not just a physical connection. I want you to open your heart and let me in. It hurts me to feel this…distance between us. I can’t live that way.”

  He lowered his lids, hiding whatever thoughts ran through his head. Another withdrawal, making her heart squeeze. Then he lifted his eyes. They burned with a fierce determination.

  “I do care about you, Sarika, more than you know. I’ve always cared. My life is not the same without you. We’ll be happy together, I promise.”

  The intensity in his voice warmed her. He hadn’t said he loved her, yet at the same time, his desire to bind her to him was like a gravity field. He must feel something close to love to keep reeling her back in.

  Maybe she just needed to teach him how to express himself in a non-physical way.

  Teach him how to love.

  Her mother, Ana Lisa, and even Rafe had taught her about love, for he had loved her when she was younger. It was only when that love had turned romantic things had changed. Somewhere in his life he must have learned it was unsafe to love a woman, in the same way she had learned to doubt a man’s love from her father’s absence.

  God, weren’t they a pair.

  “Were your parents happy together?” she asked. “I barely remember them. I was only fifteen when they died.”

  His hand squeezed hers, almost like an involuntary spasm, and he dropped her gaze.

  “Rafe?”

  “No, they weren’t happy.”

  “Oh, I never knew that.” Lifting her fingers, she trailed the tips down his cheek. “What happened?”

  “They made each other miserable, that’s what happened. It’s a mockery they’re buried next to each other in death when they couldn’t stand to be in the same room together in life.”

  He stood abruptly, moving past her to grab his pants from the floor and drag them on. “I have an early morning meeting. Get ready, and I’ll drop you at Elena’s on my way to the office.” Then he strode for the door.

  She hesitated for only a second then ran after him into the hall.

  “Rafe…slow down…what you said about your parents – don’t you want to talk about it?”

  He didn’t answer, moving relentlessly away from her.

  “You can’t just shut me out!” She pulled on him to stop, but it was like trying to stop a wrecking ball.

  She raced past him and turned to face him in his bedroom doorway. “This is what I’m talking about. Why can’t you just tell me what you’re feeling?”

  “Sarika, not now.” His voice grated across her skin.

  “Why not now? We just made love, you said you wanted to marry me. Why can’t you open up about your parents?”

  The muscle in his jaw twitched furiously, then he grasped her head between his hands, lifted her onto her toes, and kissed her. It was a dominant, forceful kiss that sent shivers up her spine. She melted against him, eyes closed, and hung on, unable to do anything else.

  When he drew back, she gasped for air, her heart beating wildly. Desire churned like lava through her veins, and she could barely raise her lids.

  His eyes stormed down at her. In contrast to his mouth, which had formed a hard, straight line.

  Then he grasped her shoulders, lifted her out of the way, and closed his bedroom door in her face.

  Chapter Nine

  “Then he just shut me out!” Sarika whacked her spoon on the tiny, granite table between her and Elena in the crowded café. They’d met up for a coffee about twenty minutes ago, and Sarika had vented a
bout Rafe and their situation non-stop.

  Elena reached across and cautiously took the utensil away. “Are you done? Because I’m still at the point where you enticed him into your bedroom.”

  Sarika scowled. “I did not – he followed me. I was trying to get away.” She tapped a nail against her mug. “Okay, maybe I enticed him a little, but he was relentless. Hours of lovemaking, just so I would give in and agree to marry him.”

  “The bastard. How many orgasms did you say you had?”

  Her lips twitched. “I didn’t…four or five.”

  “String the man up.”

  “That’s not the point. Didn’t you hear me when I said he shut the door in my face? He thinks all it’s going to take is a night of – you know – and I’ll roll over and say ‘yes’. Well, I’m not so easy. If he wants to be with me, he’s going to have to cough up the emotional goods.”

  A serious light entered Elena’s eyes, and she took Sarika’s hand. “And if he can’t?”

  Sarika’s stomach clenched. “That’s obvious. Then I’ll…then I’ll…”

  “You’ll what? Walk away? Marry someone else? Sarika, you love Rafe. You have since you were nine years old. As much as I support your need for him to open up, it’s not as easy as it sounds. I know. My parents had a terrible marriage, too, and the last thing I want to do is talk about it. Those scars run deep. I’m not saying you shouldn’t push him or expect more from him, I’m just saying maybe you should be willing to go slow, accept smaller victories.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Did he say anything to you last night or this morning that was heartfelt?”

  Sarika thought back on her fight with Rafe, looking at it from a new perspective. How had he expressed himself before he’d walked away? Had he opened up with her at all? Yes. A few times, but there was one moment in particular. “He said his life was not the same without me.” Her throat constricted as she repeated his words.

 

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