She pushed her legs apart and clenched her eyes shut. Cass and Lucy had mentioned that the first time would hurt a bit. “I’m ready,” she announced, scrunching up her nose and bracing a hand against the wall.
Rafe’s laughter was the last thing she expected. But it was there, loud and melodious, bouncing off the wooden sides of the small cabin. She cracked open an eye. “What’s funny about this?”
He nudged at her with his nose and kissed one eyelid, then the other. “Nothing, my darling.”
“Why are you laughing?” she asked, chagrined, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to push him away. His hot hardness between her legs and the warm heat and weight of his chest against hers were too compelling.
He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t quite— Let’s just say there’s more to it than my pouncing on you. Not to mention if I were to make love to you, I might find myself in a thousand little pieces once your brother finds out.”
She wiggled against him and Rafe closed his eyes briefly. “Daphne, please,” he whispered.
“I didn’t expect you to pounce, but aren’t you supposed to…?” She trailed off in abject embarrassment, not even certain of the right words to use in such a circumstance. She wasn’t worried about Julian. She had no doubt that getting Rafe to this point was all she needed. There’d be little chance he’d stop if they continued to do what they were doing. “I have no intention of telling Julian anything about this,” she said with a coy smile.
Rafe leaned down and kissed her again and all the thoughts fluttered straight from her brain. “Whatever we do, it’s supposed to feel good… and happen naturally,” he said. “Most importantly, feel good.”
“I like the sound of that,” she admitted, kissing the cleft in his chin softly.
He pushed a curl away from her ear and leaned down and traced the outline of it with his tongue. Daphne bucked against him. “Let me make you feel good, Daphne,” he whispered.
“Yes” was her only reply.
He moved down, his lips a hot brand against her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Daphne wrapped her arms around his shoulders. How could his mouth on her neck feel so good? She’d never imagined it. His lips moved lower, next. They nipped at the top of her breast. Then Daphne gasped as the hot wetness settled over her nipple. “Oh my God,” she moaned. His smile burned against her soft skin. His mouth played with her, biting and tracing small patterns against the fevered skin of her breast. “You’re perfect, do you know that?” he whispered.
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are.” He sucked her nipple deep into his mouth and Daphne decided she was done arguing with him. The wet heat between her legs was driving her mad and the sensations in her breast were zipping through her body and pulling at the juncture between her thighs. She wanted him on top of her. She wanted him inside of her. “Please, Rafe,” she whispered, her lower body squirming against him.
“Wait, Daphne. Just wait for it.”
His mouth continued its gentle assault on her breast while his left hand moved down to her wet warmth. Her chest rose and fell with each of her labored breaths. His hand teased her, barely touching the springy curls between her legs. He traced her cleft, running one long finger down her center. She pressed up against his hand, wanting more, but not knowing exactly what.
Rafe parted her and pressed a finger between her legs. He moved it into a spot that made Daphne cry out. He stroked her there, slowly, so slowly. Then he began to circle the spot, using only his fingertip, and Daphne cried out. “Rafe!”
He covered her mouth with his other hand. “Shh. We don’t want the crew to hear.”
“At the moment I don’t give a damn,” Daphne breathed against his neck.
“Just feel, Daphne. Don’t think.”
Daphne moaned. All she was doing was feeling. And the feeling made her want to sob. His finger circled her again and again and again. Her hips moved of their own accord in a primal rhythm along with his finger. The tug of his mouth against her nipple and the circling of his finger between her hips made her want to scream. She bent her head to his hair. He smelled so good, like soap and rugged man. He nudged at that perfect spot between her legs, again, again, again. Daphne squirmed beneath him. Her legs were taut, open to him, but clenching with all her might to feel more of the sensation he was offering. Her hands were tangled in his hair. His mouth still owned her breast. He nipped her one more time.
“Rafe, I want—” But she didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“Just wait, Daphne.”
His mouth left her breast and moved down, down, down. Her mind in a fog, she didn’t realize what he intended until his finger left its spot between her legs. She sobbed, but nearly as quickly as it had left, his mouth replaced his hand and this time she moaned for an entirely different reason.
“Oh God, Rafe, no,” she cried.
“Yes,” he breathed against her most intimate spot.
Her face was aflame with embarrassment but the moment his tongue began tracing the little circles where his fingers had been, Daphne ceased to care. There was no more embarrassment, only raw, hot, wantonneed. She needed him. In a way she had never needed anyone before in her life.
His tongue circled her again and again. The tip poked at her most sensitive spot and she cried out. “Rafe, I’m going to—” But she didn’t know how to finish that sentence, either.
“Yes, Daphne. Yes.” His hot breath covered the nub between her legs, and when he licked her in deep, wet strokes, she fell over the edge of an abyss she’d never known existed. “Rafe, oh, Rafe,” she called, clutching the back of his head to her, never wanting him to stop and not caring if the entire harbor heard her.
She surfaced from her lust-induced haze several minutes later and looked down to see Rafe’s face at her belly. He grinned up at her with the most self-satisfied smirk she’d ever seen.
