He complied, one hand sliding up to tease my nipple, and I gasped at the assault. His cock driving into me was the most awe-inspiring pleasure.
“You’re so tight, Brooke. So perfect.”
The pressure was building again, faster this time, my body already primed from my first orgasm. I reached for his hand on my breast, forcing him to cup it rather than play with it, squeezing in time with his thrusts.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, watching my hand move. “Make yourself come on my cock.”
His words pushed me closer to the edge, his demands sending a thrill through me. I’d forgotten how much I loved it when he talked to me like this.
“I’m going to come again,” I rasped. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he promised, increasing his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin almost drowning out the table screeching across the floor.
The orgasm hit me like a freight train, radiating outward from my core in waves that made me scream his name. “Rav! Oh my god, Rav!”
He followed moments later, his rhythm faltering as he emptied himself inside me with a guttural groan. He leaned forward, hovering just above me, until he let his forehead roll forward.
For a long moment, we stayed like that, joined and panting, his forehead pressed against mine. My legs were still clamped around his waist, unwilling to let him go just yet.
“Fuck,” I finally managed.
He chuckled, the sound and movement vibrating through me. “That was?—”
“Just the beginning,” I finished for him, pushing at his chest. “Upstairs. Bed. Now.”
He withdrew from me with a satisfied sigh. “Stay there.”
“I said?—”
“Patience.” He plucked a napkin from the counter and returned to me. He placed it between my legs, and he helped me slide off the table, ensuring we didn’t have any extra clean-up to do later. My legs wobbled when I stood, and he grinned.
“Shut up,” I said, smacking his chest lightly.
“I didn’t say a word.”
“Your face said it all.” I gathered my discarded clothes, not bothering to put them on. “Are you coming?”
He watched me with hungry eyes as I walked backward toward the stairs, completely naked and unapologetic. “Absolument, madame.”
Chapter 32
Rav
The bedroom Brookeshared with Scarlett was bathed in soft light from the bedside lamp, the enormous bed with its dark wood frame dominating the space. Through the windows, the city of Naples stretched out like a carpet of lights twinkling in the night.
I paused in the doorway, watching the completely naked Brooklyn McAllister as she tossed her clothes in a pile on the small couch. The sight of her took my breath away—the curve of her spine, the sweep of her hair across her shoulders, the contrast between smooth and scarred skin.
She turned, catching me staring. “What?”
“Just admiring the view,” I said, crossing the room to stand before her. I couldn’t help but reach out, tracing the edge of scarring along her neck, following it down to her collarbone. “Every inch of you.”
Something flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by that determined look I knew so well.
“Plenty of time for looking later,” she said, pushing me toward the bed.
“Hold on,” I whispered, trying not to laugh at the hunger she’d let loose. “Let me put Scarlett’s things outside; otherwise, she’ll come knocking.”
“Hurry up.” Brooke bit her lip. “Because I want to feel you again.”
