That, she understood, even in her passion-addled state. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Please don’t ever stop.”
His eyes met hers and for a second, something shifted. Something felt wrong. Like he was rejecting that, but she definitely didn’t have the available brainpower to process that in the moment. “Please,” she groaned, and then he was back, as consumed by passion as she was, pulling her underwear from her body and removing his boxer briefs.
The first night they’d made love, she’d been tentative and uncertain. Overwhelmed by everything about him—his strength, good looks, wealth, power, charisma, and the totally uncharacteristic decision she’d made to go home with him. Butnow, she’d had months of longing, of wanting Raf with the force of a thousand suns, and she wouldn’t let the opportunity go to waste. Without conscious thought, her hands moved beneath the water’s surface, over her own body and then to his, connecting with his torso before travelling downwards. She felt his sharp intake of breath when she wrapped both hands around his huge, erect cock. She shuddered with anticipation as she imagined it driving into her, as she imagined that fullness and rightness.
“Elodie,” he said, quickly, bringing his body over hers, his palms braced beside her. “I don’t have protection.”
It was like a blade of reality intruding on this fantasy moment. She brushed it away. “I think we can probably dispense with contraception now, don’t you?”
His lips tightened into a half smile, and she found herself smiling back. But then he throbbed in her palms and sexual need burst through her anew, driving everything else from her mind.
“I don’t care. I want you.”
But he still didn’t come closer to her sex. “I get tested regularly, and always use a condom. I’m clean.”
Jesus.She hadn’t even thought about anything beyond pregnancy. She did however know she was also fine to have unprotected sex, courtesy of the full range of blood tests the doctor had run to confirm her pregnancy.
“But if you have any doubts?—,”
“I don’t,” she promised. “I want you.”
He expelled a long breath, his eyes latched to hers, doubt in them. Doubt about this? About her? “We don’t have to,” she said, unevenly, trying to manage her disappointment, and keep it from her tone.
“Cristo,”he cursed. “You think we don’t have to?” He moved then, hitching himself at her sex, and her hands shifted to his sides. “This feels like the definition of mandatory.”
“Yes,” she agreed. It was exactly how she felt. As though she would explode if he didn’t take her, right here, like this. “Please, Raf, I need you. God, I need you.”
“That makes two of us,” he said, as he thrust into her and knocked her entire world off its axis, quite possibly forever. He was so much bigger than she remembered, stretching her body anew, so her muscles squeezed around him and she sucked in a breath as she got used to this feeling. He stayed there, buried deep inside of her, as if he knew she needed a moment to adapt to this again. As if he understood everything. Then, he was moving, his body shifting against hers, rocking her, moving her, the water lapping against them as an added sensation, so it was almost too much. Too much pleasure, too much awareness. She felt her orgasm building slowly at first, like waves at the beach, and then, fast like a tsunami, all at once, when he dragged his mouth to hers and kissed her, his tongue moving in unison with his arousal, so she was whimpering into his kiss as she fell apart, completely, piece by piece.
It was Raf who put her back together, though, shifting gently while she came back to earth, then stoking her to new heights, his body so powerfully mastering hers, as though he’d been born to do this. Briefly, thoughts ofwhyhe was so good came to her—of the experience he had—but she quickly shut it down. What did that matter? In this moment, for this night, he was hers and she was his. They’d deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. It was her last cogent thought before another tidal wave of pleasure threatened to drown her. When he started to whisper in her ear in Italian, she felt as if she’d never come to the surface for air again. And what did that matter, when drowning felt so good?
He ignored reality.He ignored responsibility. He ignored the banging of a drum in the back of his mind that he had donesomething he should have been strong enough to resist. He ignored it, because for this moment, he needed to. After he’d buried himself inside her and exploded with a release of pleasure that felt more satisfying and complete than anything he’d ever known, he wasted no time lifting her out of the pool, carrying her with her legs wrapped around his waist through the house, to his ensuite, and depositing her in the shower. He started the water then stepped in with Elodie, kissing her before either of them could realise this had been a mistake. It hadn’t been. That wasn’t to say there wouldn’t be consequences, but it had been, as he’d said, mandatory. Essential. Pre-ordained in some strange way. And now that they’d broken their agreed upon rule, they might as well make the most of it.
He ran a thumb over her lower lip then his mouth was on hers, kissing her beneath the shower, knowing he would be with her again tonight. Knowing that he needed it as much now as he had earlier. Knowing that he needed her.
Elodie hadno idea what time it was when they finally surfaced for air. Her body was sensitive all over, her insides twisting with pleasure and need. And deep in her chest, she felt a heavy weight of contentment—something she tried not to overanalyze.
When Raf returned to his room, he had a white towel wrapped low around his hips, but that didn’t matter. She would never lose the visual of him naked now. It was burned into her brain, and she was glad for that.
He held a tray and belatedly, she remembered dinner. And the fact she was actually starving. Pleasure had driven such practical thoughts from her mind, but when Raf placed the tray down and she saw the cheese platter and sandwiches, her stomach groaned audibly. She clamped a hand to it, and he laughed.
“The baby’s hungry,” he suggested.
“Apparently.”
They’d just explored one another’s bodies for hours, and yet, in the light of afterwards, in his bed, with a tray of food at her side, she was suddenly very conscious of the fact she was naked. “Um, do you have a shirt?”
The look he threw her showed his amusement, likely for the same reasons she felt the contradiction, but she didn’t care.
“Of course,” he said, though, moving towards a large walk-in wardrobe, opening a drawer and removing a black t-shirt. He carried it over to her and to her surprise, said, “Arms up.”
She did as he said, lifting her hands into the air, and he slid the sleeves into place, guiding the shirt down her body, letting his fingers caress her skin as he went, brushing against the sides of her breasts, as he moved the shirt into place.
She sucked in a breath of air, but it strangled in her throat. There was no room for anything but desire.
How?How could she feel like this after the pleasure they’d already shared? Shouldn’t she be done by now?
“This looks delicious,” she said quickly, changing the subject to stop from begging him to forget about food and make love to her, one last time.
