I nearly melt, and every thought dissolves under the heat of the next kiss. I reach up, curling my fingers into his shirt, but then he breaks away just enough to smirk against my lips.
Without a word, his hands glide down to my hips, firm and commanding. Before I realize what’s happening, he lifts me effortlessly, and a surprised laugh escapes me as he settles me on the rolling ladder.
“Rafael!” I gasp, clutching the sides for balance.
He leans in, his mouth grazing my ear as he murmurs, “You look good on it.”
His mouth captures mine again, more intense this time, his hands bracketing my thighs as the ladder creaks softly beneath us.
“I love this ladder,” I say against his lips, my nipples hardening as his chest brushes against me.
He withdraws just enough to watch me with hooded eyes. “Do you?”
With a gentle nudge, he lets the ladder roll to the left, and I shriek, clutching the rails tighter.
“Rafael!”
“Relax, I’ve got you.” He lets it glide a little farther before pulling it back toward him, his hands sliding to grip my waist. His voice drops, low and rough. “I’ll always get you.”
My heart stutters. “Always?”
“Mm-hmm.” His gaze roams over me, and then his mouth is on mine again, stealing whatever witty reply I might have had. “And now I get younakedfor a whole night. In my bed. No interruptions.” He lifts my chin, kissing my pulse point. “Legs around me, breathless whimpers, sticky with sweat.”
“Someone’s feeling confident.”
“You’re about to find out.” With a swift motion, Rafael lifts me off the ladder, his strong arms cradling me against his chest. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carries me out of the living room and up the stairs. His lips never leave mine, stealing kisses with each step.
Once we reach the bedroom, I quickly slide back to the floor. Our hands move of their own accord, fumbling with buttons and zippers, the rush making it impossible to focus on anything but getting closer, removing every barrier between us. His hands slide under my shirt, fingers skimming up my back as he pulls it over my head.
As he removes my bra, too, I shiver, the cool air hitting my skin only to be replaced by the warmth of his gaze. His finger follows the curve of my chest, brushing my nipple and tracing down my stomach, his lips parted, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“Your freckles,” he whispers. “They’re everywhere.”
I swallow, fighting the instinct to cover up. “Too much?”
“I wonder if I could kiss them all.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. “Lick them all,” he continues, tongue sliding down between my breasts.
Clinging to him when my knees turn wobbly, I tug at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine, and he quickly obliges, the fabric falling to the floor as we stumble toward the bed.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him without a shirt on, and as the mattress dips under my weight, I hold him back, wanting to take it all in.
Tattoos scatter across his chest—black lines slipping down his ribs, a half-finished compass at the edge of his collarbone, script curling just under his heart. He’s lean, not bulky, but there’s definition inevery plane, like he’s someone who doesn’t try to sculpt his body, just uses it. A little hair trails down from his sternum, and I blink when I catch the glint of silver—a barbell piercing through one nipple.
He winks when he notices that’s what my gaze sticks to, like he knew I’d like that, then his body is pressing against mine. I can barely get used to it before his hot breath is on my collarbone, and he maps a path of kisses down to the swell of my breasts. It’s hard to think, to breathe. His hands are everywhere—caressing, exploring, teasing.
He takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks hard on it while his left hand continues to tease the other. I arch my back, trying to get closer to him, and he doesn’t disappoint as he switches to my other nipple and gives it the same treatment.
“Sensitive,” I say in between gasps, my fingers tracing the muscles of his shoulders.
“Hmm—perfect.”
His lips keep trailing down my body until they reach my thighs. After he glances at my expression, his fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, and he drags them down my legs.
Spreading my thighs wider apart, he watches intently. “I’m not going to make it, am I?”
“What?”
“I’m going to come the second I lick up this dripping pussy.”
