I didn’t know he’d paid attention to the shower orgasm. That he was even in a place where he could remember what I liked. He strokes up my leg, kisses my calf, and shifts forward.
My heart is pounding like a sledgehammer inside my chest. Sex has often been impersonal to me, but this feels like being seen.
Rafe puts my foot behind his shoulder to open me up wider.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his mouth only inches from my clit.
When did someone go down on me last? It wasn’t thatone-night stand at New Year’s. It must have been the guy I dated last summer for a few months, a dalliance that both of us knew would go nowhere, but a way to pass the time. And that was fine, it was nice, but it wasn’t?—
Rafe kisses me.
And my thoughts die.
He presses warm, open-mouthed kisses to my clit, my skin. And he does it with a hunger that takes my breath away. Like this is something he’s been hungry to do.
This is not what I was expecting. I was expecting a quid pro quo, narrowed eyes and quick fingers. I wasn’t expecting him to besointo it.
There’s no artifice with the way he wants me.
We fight over everything. Gather points on everything. But this… he wants to eat me out. And damn if that isn’t a point for himandone for me.
A whimper escapes me, and Rafe’s hand slides around to grip my ass. “Stay quiet for me,” he says. “Can’t have someone overhearing, mmm?”
“The store clerk?” I ask, but I don’t move away. He’s looking at me like he wants me, like he can’t stop, and it’s thepowerof it all, I decide. That’s what’s going to my head and making my stomach tighten.
“They won’t bother us,” he says, burying his head between my legs. This time he uses his tongue in a long, bold stroke. I reach down and run my hands through his dark hair.
We’re definitely buying all of those dresses,I think, and then, mortifyingly, I think about what he said. He told the shop clerks not to bother us.
I won’t be able to look them in the eye.
“Are you sure they won’t mind?” I ask, because my resolve is slipping, and he’s circling my clit with his tongue in a way that makes my body hum. I’m going to come again. I can already tell it’s heading that way, in this beautifuldressing room, with this complicated man kneeling in front of my spread legs.
“Yes. Now can you be quiet,” he mutters, “and let me enjoy my wife’s pretty pussy, hmm? Can you do that for me?”
I thread my hand through his hair. His annoyingly handsome hair, thick through my fingers, and nod. Because he’s going to win another point, and I’m going to let him. Because I want to come too.
He’s going to walk out of here ten feet tall, and that should bother me,but then he says something in French again. It sounds like a curse.
I need to double down on my language-learning app. Immediately. He speaks English, French and Italian with the same ease I have in one language, and I don’t want to miss out on whatever he says when he thinks I can’t hear him.
“What did you say?” I ask.
“I said,” he mutters, against my skin, “that you’re the prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”
“It sounded like a curse.”
“It was,” he says, and he leans back to watch as he slides a finger inside me. My entire body tightens around it. “My pretty investment.”
I once threw that in his face. And now he says it like it pains him, watching me like I’m the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
“I’d tell you more,” he says, and leans forward again, “but my mouth has better things to do.”
He closes his lips around my clit and electricity shoots through me. He sucks and flicks his tongue back and forth, and I think I might come right then and there.
Yes,I think, my eyes fluttering closed,it definitely does.
It takes a while. But we eventually leave the store with all three dresses.
