“Are you seeing anyone else?” I fire the question out like a bullet.
Rafe’s brows furrow, and he takes so long to reply, I start to worry about the answer. A knot of unease unfurls in my stomach.
He presses his body harder against mine, trapping me against the mattress. “No, not even casually,” he finally answers.
“Is this casual?”
Rafe searches my face again and brushes my hair back from my temple. “If I tell you what this is, it might scare you.” He smiles again as if he likes the thought.
“What does that mean?”
Instead of answering me, he kisses me again. I should push him to answer, but I think I get what he’s trying to say, because this sure doesn’t feel casual to me. Our kisses grow heated, until I feel like I’m desperate for him to touch me. All I can think about is how he made me feel when we were on the Ferris wheel. My body moves against his in a clear demand for more.
Rafe slides his hand down my side and grips my waist, tugging me down the bed until I’m flat on my back with him leaning over me. I gasp, unprepared for the sudden change, but he doesn’t stop kissing me. Instead, he folds his fingers over mine and pulls my hand up until it’s over my head, pinning me to the mattress. I feel lightheaded. My breathing is so shallow, I’m panting, but it doesn’t stop me from kissing him back.
Without warning, he breaks the kiss and trails his lips over my jaw and down my neck. I arch to give him better access, and he groans appreciatively near my ear. His free hand cups my breast, and I push into his touch as much as I can with him above me. It isn’t enough. I still want more.
I tug at his shirt, hoping he’ll get the hint and remove it and take mine too. Rafe leans back so I can see his face again. His lips are damp from kissing my neck, and his eyes are heavy-lidded. I’ve never seen anything sexier. He’s looking down at me as if he feels the same.
With deliberate motions, Rafe slides down my body while keeping his eyes locked on mine. When he reaches the waist of my pants, he leans down and clamps his teeth over the denim. I suck in a breath, and my stomach hollows out. After a quick tug, he releases my jeans, only to use his hand to unbutton them.
I lift my hips to help him as he peels the heavy fabric off my legs, stripping me to my panties. They’re simple black cotton bikini briefs, the only kind I own. I always opted for comfortable rather than sexy, but I think I may need to expand my wardrobe soon.
Rafe rises to his feet at the end of the bed, dropping my pants to the floor. He scans every inch of me as if he’s committing me to memory. I know I have a nice body. I’m lean and strong, but I still feel a little self-conscious under his attentive gaze. I look away from his face and let my eyes roam greedily over his frame.
With quick, jerky movements, Rafe reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off over his head. “Holy hell,” I mutter when his torso is revealed. He’s covered in tattoos, so many I don’t know where one starts and the others finish. Familiar images jump out at me—a wicked-looking crown, skulls, and all kinds of weapons. There’s a piece on his pec that unfurls over his shoulder and wraps down the top of his bicep that I’m tempted to call tribal, but it’s more intricate than that. My mouth goes dry. Tattoos aren’t new to me. Pretty much everyone at the club had them, men and women, but they weren’t these tattoos on this man.
I’ve never once been tempted to get one, but looking at his, I’m envious. They flow perfectly with his body. I sit up and crawl forward, drawn to the beautiful black and gray ink, needing to touch it.
I reach out and trace the lines of the crown. It’s huge and somehow terrifyingly magnificent. It sits over his heart, and the tips look as if they are piercing his skin. I look up at Rafe’s face. He’s watching me with a closed expression. I open my mouth to tell him how beautiful he is, but he grabs my hand and wraps it around my back roughly. Our chests bump, and the next thing I know, his breath wafts over my ear, making my hair tickle my neck.
He kneels on the bed, trapping my legs between his. His grip on my wrist is tight, holding me in place. Rafe doesn’t say a word, he just continues to hold me against him. Eventually, his breathing slows and his body relaxes. Mine follows his without instruction, softening. Still, we stay pressed together.
Rafe lowers his face until his lips begin caressing my shoulder and neck. “When you look at me like that, Lucy, I may not be able to control myself.”
I wiggle my fingers to remind him how tightly he’s gripping my arm. He immediately loosens his hold and uses his thumb to rub circles against my wrist and forearm.
“Who asked you to?” comes my bold reply. It’s only after the words are out of my mouth that I realize how challenging they sound, and considering I’m a virgin, it may have been not only dumb, but downright crazy.
Rafe pauses. He’s so still, I don’t even think he’s breathing.
I lean back so I can see his face, and I palm his cheek. “Okay, so a little restraint is good…for now.” I smile, hoping I don’t come off like a crazy person.
I’m not sure what reaction I expected from him, but it wasn’t him grinning at me and tossing me down to the bed. I yelp and giggle when he lands on top of me.
“Uh-uh. You just gave me carte blanche, Lucy. The keys to the castle,” he growls out, sitting back and straddling my waist. I couldn’t get up if I wanted to. Good thing I’m happy right where I am.
“It does seem like you think you’re a king,” I retort, referring to his tattoo. Rafe rubs a hand over his chest, stroking his nipple and the beautiful tattoo at the same time. Is that supposed to be so hot?
He leans down and brushes his nose against mine. “No take backs,” he whispers, then he’s kissing me again. I rise to meet him stroke for stroke. My shirt and bralette get taken off soon after, and when his eyes roam over me again, I realize the truth to his words. The way he’s looking at me makes me want to do dirty things to him—things I have no experience with but will be delightful if Rafe is the one I’m experiencing them with.
He cups my breast and brushes his thumb over my nipple. “Pink, just like your lips,” he murmurs, seeming enamored by the sight. My back arches off the bed, and a soft moan comes from my lips. Rafe stops circling my nipple and pinches. Holy crap, I can feel it right between my legs.
Before I take another breath, Rafe wraps his lips around my nipple. The heat from his mouth causes the air to whoosh from my lungs, and when he sucks hard, I cry out. His hand goes under my back, and he pulls me closer to him, flicking me with his tongue and sucking my bud deep into his mouth. My hands are fisted in the sheets, and my hips are rocking like my body knows exactly what I’m doing, even though my brain is going haywire with all the overwhelming sensations.
Rafe moves to my other breast, and I feel the blunt edges of his teeth as he bites my nipple. The pang only lasts a second before he’s rolling his tongue over the taut peak and using his hand on my other nipple to mimic his mouth.
He shifts to position himself between my knees, so he’s cradled between my thighs. I can feel the soft fabric of his jeans against my inner thighs. He grinds against me while playing with my nipples, and I toss my head back. I’m so close to coming, I don’t know if I should stop him or let him keep going. I can feel his hardness pushing against me when he slides forward. One of his hands slips down my back and cups my ass, lifting me to grind harder against him. He’s clinging to me so tightly, I can barely move other than to run my hands over his back and shoulders, but it doesn’t matter, because everything he’s doing is perfect and just what my body craves.
