He returns my smile, then retrieves the pint of mint chip ice cream. “Anytime.”
We part ways at the stairs, and as I head back to bed, I feel surprisingly lighter, as though a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted from my shoulders.
I still have a lot to consider, but Sandro’s words have brought me a sense of peace I wasn’t sure I would ever find again.
27
AISLING
The warm, solid muscles curving around my body and twining around my waist send a shiver of intense satisfaction down my spine as I slowly rise from the deep fog of sleep.
I don’t think I’ve slept that well… maybe ever.
A soft sigh rushes from me as callused fingers trace patterns across my bare skin. Warmth pools low in my belly, slick moisture gathering between my thighs. I could get used to waking up like this.
Turning my head to look over my shoulder, I find Raf curled around me, his body molding to mine like we’re two puzzle pieces meant to fit perfectly together.
He looks dangerously sexy with his dark hair tousled, his face more relaxed than I’ve seen it in years, and when his hazel eyes lift to meet mine, a slow smile curves one corner of his perfect lips.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.
“Morning,” I breathe, turning in his arms just enough to kiss him.
He hums softly, and desire unfurls in my belly at the deep, inviting sound. He lifts his hand to cup my jaw, and the way his thumb brushes my cheek sends tingles down my spine.
The moment lingers, time stretching as his lips mold to mine, his tongue teasing their seam until I part them, granting him access.
Then his fingers comb back into my hair to cradle my head, and he deepens the kiss with luxurious tenderness.
It’s the softest, sweetest kiss we’ve ever shared, and somehow, it heats my skin in a way our desperate passion never could.
Like the embers of a fire, slow and steady and burning cherry-red.
His arm still trapped beneath me cinches tighter as he pulls me close, turning me to face him more fully.
I comply readily, squirming until I can sling my leg over his hip, and the space between us vanishes as I feel the urgent press of his hard cock against my abdomen.
His hands explore me gently, his fingers kneading my flesh as they travel down my back to cup my ass and pull me into him.
A moan rushes up my throat as my folds part around his hard length.
The friction is delicious.
God, I want to feel him inside me, and he’s so close, the tip of his swollen tip brushing my clit as he slowly rocks against me.
Then his lips leave mine, shifting to my ear, my throat, my clavicle.
He presses soft kisses and draws a scintillating path with his tongue, lighting a fire in his wake as he works his way down to my breasts.
They’re tender today—probably from all the attention they received last night—and I gasp as he wraps his lips around one hard nipple, swirling it with his tongue.
His hand cups my other breast, his fingers lightly plucking at the taut point, unleashing jolts of arousal that settle in my belly like molten lava.
And just when I think I can’t stand the pleasure any longer, he switches sides, suctioning my other nipple against his warm lips and leaving the exposed breast to harden against the sudden, sharp cold.
My breaths come in pants as a steady pulse forms between my thighs, my need for Raf building until all I can think about is having him inside me.
But he seems determined to torture me one inch at a time.
