by Lora Leigh
So tight, the thought of having his cock buried in her as she came so violently made him insane to fuck her.
He existed purely for this pleasure.
In the back of his mind, Rafer knew he had been born to possess this one woman. That he could easily find himself living simply for the chance to touch her, to feel her coming for him, to hear his name as a gasping plea on her lips.
And if he wasn’t very very careful, she would destroy him when she slipped away from him again.
When Cami collapsed against him, her breathing harsh, heavy, Rafe lowered his head to her ear once more.
“Now, it’s my turn,” he said as she trembled against him. “Are you ready for me, baby? Because I’m damned sure ready for you.”
CHAPTER 4
She couldn’t do this.
As they tore off each other’s clothing, dropping shirts, jeans, and in her case silk panties, Cami kept telling herself she couldn’t allow this to happen.
This was Rafer Callahan. She had fought him, fought this hunger, this attraction for him for as long as she could remember. She had fought the emotional ties she had felt tugging at her. Well, not always. Not until Jaymi had been killed and she suspected her sister had died because of her friendship with Rafe, rather than because of a serial killer choosing her. She had realized what those emotional ties could cause. Losing Jaymi had nearly destroyed her world. She wouldn’t survive losing Rafe.
As he tore her panties from her hips his lips were on hers, his hands lifting her as her knees lifted and gripped his hard, lean flanks. Her body refused to obey the demands of her common sense. Her lips refused to say “no.”
The stiff, furiously engorged flesh of his cock was trapped between them, throbbing and pressing against the swollen, sensitive bud of her clit. Every nerve ending was sensitized. Hunger was tearing at her with furious demand.
He stumbled across the room as her hands buried in his hair, pulling free the strip of leather that held his long, thick black hair back from his savagely hewn face.
Gripping the thick strands, she tried to lift herself closer, to bury herself deeper in the kiss that stoked the flames burning in her pussy.
Her womb clenched, her body became hot and flushed despite the perspiration that gathered on her flesh.
This was what tormented her long into the night.
This was that unnamed hunger that gnawed at her and kept her searching restlessly for ease.
It was Rafer. His touch, his kiss, the steady, fiery demand of the hunger he poured into her.
This was what she hungered for.
For his lips moving over hers as she felt her naked buttocks settle on the heavy kitchen table.
The coffee cups were raked aside, the heavy plastic crashing on the floor.
Was this one of the fantasies he’d once told her he had about her?
Nothing could be as explicit as her fantasies for him.
“No,” the desperate command burst from her lips as his lips lifted, from hers his head pulling back as he stared down at her. Deep sapphire-blue eyes narrowed on her as they gleamed with naked, furious lust.
“I told you, I’m going to fuck your pussy with my tongue,” he told her. “I have every intention of tasting every bit of flesh I bury into.”
Her lips parted on a shocked exclamation. A totally involuntary sound as her hands dug deeper into his hair. Her neck arched as his lips ran along her jaw, then the column of sensitive flesh as her head fell back weakly to allow him access.
Broad hands flattened on her back as he kept her close to him, despite her perched position on the table. Angling his body between her knees, he pressed her thighs apart as he nipped at her neck. Then he licked the light abrasion, his tongue rasping over the sensitive flesh with erotic roughness.
Another moan slipped past her lips. That part of her that lived in fear of losing someone else she loved was screaming out in agony. Begging her to deny him.
What was it about his touch? What made Rafer Callahan so different from the other men she had dated? So different that as he lowered her along the table, her back meeting the cool wood, she would try to arch closer in eager anticipation. So different that the voice of agony was slowly silenced. She needed this. Needed him, his touch, his kiss, like the land needed sunlight and rain.
His thumbs found her nipples as her back arched.
The exciting abrasion of his calloused thumbs against the sensitive tips had her arching, twisting to get closer.
“Suck them, Rafe,” she moaned. “Oh God, I need your mouth on my nipples again. Just one more time hard like you did before.”
She could have been shocked that the words slipped out so easily, the demand in her voice as explicit as the words themselves.
Her fingers curled, tightening in his hair.
She couldn’t stand to breathe. She wanted no other need, no other impulse, no matter how life sustaining, to distract her from his lips as they painted a trail of sizzling electric pleasure over her flesh.
The shaft of his cock pressed against the wet folds of her pussy, the grinding shift of his hips forcing her swollen folds to part and rasping at the tiny bud.
She wanted. She wanted him so badly that she could barely hold back a scream of reaction as the iron hot shaft moved against the tender bud, stroking it.
Not that she had the breath to scream. She could barely breathe.
Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze on his lips as he placed small, nipping kisses along the mounds of her breasts. His eyes glittered with wicked promise, with teasing sensuality. As she watched, his lips moved closer, then pulled back from the aching nipples.
Her nipples ached.
Licking her lips to ease the dryness there, she could watch, ache for more. As she watched his lips draw closer, closer.
“I love your lips, your tongue,” she breathed out. “I love it when you suck my nipples, Rafe. I dream of you sucking my nipples.”
Oh God.
Keening and low, shattered and weak, a moan burst from her as his lips covered an agonizing hard tip. It was like pure liquid heat surrounding it. His tongue rubbed, licked. Heated and moist, he flicked it over her nipple before he began sucking it with fiery abrasions. He drew on it with erotic hunger, sucking it, sending jagged fingers of intense sensation rushing to her womb, her clit.
“Rafer.” She was delirious with pleasure. “Yes. Suck it. Suck it hard.”
She needed more. She couldn’t get a hard-enough caress, a deep-enough touch.
At her trembling plea his lips tightened around the nerve-laden center, suckling it deeper, his cheeks hollowing, his tongue flicking against it, rasping the nerve endings as flares of brilliant flames began to ignite across her body.
“Rafer,” she cried out his name. Her fingers clenched in his hair, moved to his shoulders. Her fingers restless, desperate to experience the feel of his body just one more time.
One more time. That was all she wanted; it was all she ached for, fantasized for. She would survive if she could have him just one more time.
His lips moved from one breast to the other, copying the harder sucking motions of his mouth and the caress of his tongue. Each rasp to her nipple, each hungry draw of his mouth, deepened the hunger rising inside her once again.
“So good.” Her voice trembled. Need was tearing through her like wildfire. “Rafer. It’s so good.”
And it was.
Her hips ground against the wide shaft pressing into her folds, stroking her clit and the sensations higher as his lips, teeth, and tongue tormented her nipples.
The flares of sensation, fingers of electric pleasure that tore through her, increased the desperation growing in her womb. As though she hadn’t just come for his fingers moments before.
Lust burned through her veins as her blood thundered, rushing through her. It spiked her arousal with adrenaline and pushed her closer to a hunger she may never escape again. He had never taken her like this. He had never used such deliberate seduction
and fiery caresses before.
Then his lips began moving lower. His hands gripped her hips, holding her still, steady, as she levered her upper body up on her elbows, panting, watching as intense, burning blue eyes stared up at her. He kissed his way to the moisture gleaming on her sex, his tongue licking a heated trail to her bare flesh.
His hands slid to her thighs as he moved farther down her body, slowly easing to the chair he jerked to him. He pushed his hands between her thighs and parted her legs as he lowered his head further.
Gripping her ankle, he bent her knee, pushing it back until he could place her foot on the edge of the table. The other he placed on the back of the chair still pushed beneath the edge.
She was fully open to him, the juices easing from her vagina, sliding along the crease of her rear, and heating the small, hidden entrance to her body lower.
She was too aware of each point of her body that he had paid such special attention to in the years before. His touch had that effect on her. Affected her as no other pleasure had, before or after.
Her pussy rippled with anticipation; her clit throbbed with the need for release.
“Touch your nipples,” he growled, his voice demanding and rough as he breathed the words over her clit.
Almost involuntarily she slid one hand along her stomach, moving up to the tight bud mound of her breast as his lips reached her lower belly. His fingers clenched at her hips, a groan rumbling in his throat as she found her nipple with her fingers, pinched it, rolling it delicately as several panting cries left her lips.
His lips brushed against a hip bone, went lower, moved in closer, until they were poised over the straining bud of her clit. Glistening with moisture, swollen, peeking past the folds of her pussy, the little bundle of nerves begged for his touch.
Cami could only watch.
Just watch. And wait in agonized anticipation for the touch of his wicked mouth.
His tongue licked over the slick, bare flesh of her pussy. If they ever had a next time, then she would pay him back for the weakness invading her limbs and the lack of control she had over the hunger tormenting her.
“What are you waiting for?” She moaned, prepared to beg if that was what he wanted, demanded that she do.
“What do you want?” His tongue peeked out, touched his bottom lip, then retreated back inside his mouth teasingly. It was his tongue, his lips, his hungry suckling mouth on her clit that she was dying for.
“Your tongue.” He knew exactly what she wanted. “Your lips,” she all but begged. “Your tongue. Suck my pussy, Rafer.” Her free hand was in his hair and she had no idea how it made it there. “Lick it all over like you promised.”
Her fingers buried themselves in the hair at the back of his head, her hips shifting, tilting as she pressed him to her. She all but tried to drag his lips to her flesh.
Her lips parted, the erotic, hungry impulses surging through her turning her into the woman she had glimpsed only three other times. Every time Rafe had touched her. Every time he had taken her.
“Lick my pussy, Rafer,” she all but begged. “Fuck it. I want to feel your tongue—” She arched, the breath leaving her lungs in a rush of pleasure and excitement as his head lowered and his lips surrounded her clit.
Every muscle tightened in her body as pleasure screamed through her senses.
His tongue licked around it, sensation curling, burning around the small knot of nerves as her thighs widened, further, her hips tilting higher.
Oh, yes. She needed this. She dreamed of this and she ached for it. Every night since she had been old enough to understand the effect Rafe had on her, she had dreamed of his touch.
She couldn’t remember a time that she hadn’t wanted him in one way or the other.
“Yes,” she breathed out roughly, involuntarily as electric pleasure crashed through her system.
His tongue rubbed along the over-sensitive nubbin as she watched, his lips pursing over it and giving it a firm, burning kiss.
Sensation flashed through her, surging from that caress to torment her body and pull a desperate moan from her lips.
He kissed her again, pursing his lips over her clit, drawing it to him, sucking it into the heat of his mouth as Cami felt the need, the burning tension, tightening with sensual agony.
Another broken moan left her lips as she felt the slick presence of her juices spilling from her cunt in a heated rush.
This time, his fingers were there to catch the slick essence, to ease it lower. His tongue began licking, stroking, moving steadily to the flexing entrance of her pussy as she arched, her hips writhing against the kiss.
She could feel the imperative need beginning to tighten between them.
He had been like this before, she thought. They both had. Fighting for patience, fighting to make it last, because they both knew it couldn’t last forever. Because Cami knew it wasn’t something she could keep.
Patience was eroded by the need building between them with furious demand.
As his tongue reached the vulnerable entrance to her vagina, she felt him lose the fine edge of his patience. Rather than licking and teasing, his tongue suddenly plunged inside her, into the violently sensitive flesh with hungry sensual strokes. Each hard licking thrust. Each plunge of his tongue triggered a flash fire. Each penetration sent pulses of sizzling pleasure surging across her nerve endings as the explosions of release began tearing through her system pumping.
“Rafer!” She screamed hoarsely. Suddenly flung into a vortex of sensation so incredible, so intense, she knew she’d lost another part of herself to him.
Her upper body jerked, quivering as she flung her head back and clenched her hands in his hair. She felt his tongue rubbing the sensitive tissue. Each stroke, each caress prolonging the explosions rippling through the sensitive flesh of her pussy. Pleasure swirled through her, the explosion still vibrating, echoing through her pussy.
Then it was gone. His tongue pulled back, licked her clit, his lips surrounding it and sucking it hard and deep into his mouth as he forced her to lie back, pressing his hand between her breasts firmly.
Her knees tightened at his shoulders, her hips surging beneath the caress of his mouth.
Her hips lifted, rolled, a groan filling the room as his fingers went to her nipples again, pinching and pulling at the tender buds as he whipped the sensations through her clit hard and fast as she felt the sizzling, burning explosion ripping through her again.
This time, it went deeper, harder.
As the fiery tension began rushing through her again he pushed two fingers into the depths of her pussy, stretching her again, sending her senses rushing into that realm of agony and ecstasy. The detonation of ecstasy began spreading through her, overtaking her senses.
He didn’t give her body a chance to adjust to the impalement. With the first hard, inward stroke he pulled back, pushed in again, pumping his fingers into her sex with quick destructive jerks as he sucked and licked at her clit with deliberately sensual strokes.
She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t hold on. The sensations were too extreme, blazing through her, building immediately from the last orgasm and building the next with each lick, suck, touch.
She felt her eyes roll back as it hit her again, the pleasure surging so deep, so filled with a sense of agonizing rapture that there was no resisting. There was no denying it. The tension stringing tight and blazing hot inside her exploded with a suddenness she couldn’t have prepared herself for.
She came to his lips again, jerking against him, a sob tearing from her lips as she let the pleasure surrounded her, racing through her with an implosion so forceful she felt her womb contract, as her pussy began to spasm and clench violently.
She was flying, hurtling through a place of such ecstasy that she couldn’t force herself down. She couldn’t ease back; and she couldn’t dim the impact of the sensations she had only felt with Rafer.
The vibrations of ecstasy hadn’t eased. They hadn’t even begun to eas
e when he jerked to his feet, gripped his cock, and pressed it into the swollen, flushed folds of her saturated pussy.
She watched again, panting, still trembling and shuddering with each aftershock of pleasure bombarding her.
“Yes,” she breathed out roughly at the burning heat beginning to spread through the entrance. “Oh, Rafer, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me hard and deep.” She was almost sobbing, hips lifting as he began working his cock inside her. “I dream of it, Rafer,” she sobbed desperately. “I dream of every touch.”
“Oh yeah, baby, milk my dick,” he whispered down at her. “Milk it good, sweetheart. Pull my cock right into that tight little pussy.”
The erotic, explicit words stroked the flames higher. Her pussy clenched tighter, doing just as he asked, milking the broad head of his erection as he worked it inside her, stretched her. The snug, hungry flesh surrounded it, and rippled around the crest.
The pleasure was violent. Sharp spears of electric sensation tore through her. Each pulsing surge of sizzling pleasure surged across her nerve endings, rushing across her nerve ending, and jerking her hips up in sharp, tight movements.
She couldn’t stay still.
She couldn’t just lie beneath him and accept the pleasure.
Her hips twisted and ground into each thrust, her cries broken and ragged, breathless rather than loud as she felt the furious pleasure ripping across her nerve endings.
She was going to come again. So soon. The rapidly building sensations throwing her toward release began building inside her again with each heavy thrust inside the clenched sensitized tissue.
Fluttering wings of sensation beat at her womb while each rake of his pelvis against her clit stroked the furious ache centered there ever higher.
Her nails bit into his biceps as she held on, her knees gripping his hips, tightening with each lunge of his cock inside her.
The flared, thickly swollen head of his cock pierced her with each impalement, exciting and rasping against exposed nerve endings. The pleasure was exceeding. Exacting.
