Victoria was so overwhelmed by her thoughts that she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps rushing to catch up to her. She didn’t sense her husband’s presence until her upper arm was caught in a large hand and she was pulled into the room across from hers.
Rafe’sbedchamber.
She gasped, both from shock and the sensation of having his hands on her. In one smooth move, he closed and locked the door behind them before pressing her back against the barrier.
“M—My maid must still assist me in undressing,” she stammered and panted. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage like a trapped bird demanding the freedom of unencumbered flight.
In response, Rafe’s mouth slanted over hers in a kiss that was nearly bruising with the force of its intensity. Without hesitation, he licked his way into her mouth, parting her lips and teeth with such skill that she hardly realized she was at his mercy until it was too late. He caught her as she sagged against the door and continued kissing her until they were both breathless from it.
“Forget the maid,” Rafe growled against her lips. “I haven’t yet had the pleasure of undressing my wife…layer…by…layer…”
Before she could catch her breath, Rafe spun her around and proceeded to impress her with his skill and knowledge of ladies’ garments. With nimble fingers, he deftly undid the long row of tiny buttons along her spine, so the bodice fell around her upper arms; the laces of her stays followed closely behind. She was nearly boneless by the time he pushed down her chemise and slid her arms free, and she emitted an involuntary whimper of excitement as his lips touched every inch of skin he revealed. He kissed and nibbled all the way down her back to the curve of her waist and helped her drop her garments in a puddle around her feet.
Victoria’s voice was shaky when she said, “What a talent you have.”
His chuckle reverberated through her every nerve. “I am not a patient man, and waiting for a maid takes far too long for my tastes.”
Her skin prickled beneath his gaze as she was left standing in nothing but her silk stockings and heeled slippers. She could feel his eyes as they trailed down the nape of her neck, the slopes of her shoulders, the curve of her back, the indentation of her spine before her hips rounded out into her bottom. She could hear him breathing, rough and harsh like a man who had just sprinted to protect his life.
Victoria was overwhelmed with the need to see his face, to witness what she did to him while he knelt behind her, but his hands grasped her hips and prevented her from turning.
“No,” Rafe rasped. “Place your palms on the door. Yes, like that. God’s wounds, you are beautiful.”
Her heart skipped in her chest as she did what he instructed. She felt exposed and vulnerable to his perusal. And it was thrilling.
Rafe’s fingers began to burn a trail from her ankles up her calves to press against the tender backsides of her knees. He found the edge of her stockings and their garters, and then his large palms were cupping the rounded mounds of her rear.
“Absolute perfection,” Rafe whispered, kneading the muscle, pressing it, spreading it, and groaning in appreciation. She rested her forehead against the door, feeling her face catch fire as she arched back into his touch.
“Please,” she breathed.
“Please, what?”
“Please…touch me…”
“Where?”
Victoria’s tongue couldn’t form the words. She tried again and again, but no sound passed her lips.
“Here?” Rafe asked, gripping her bottom so tightly she wondered if he might leave a mark; then she hoped he would, so she might carry a part of him with her everywhere. “Or here?” His hands slid around her waist and up, up to cup her breasts. He caught her nipples between his fingers and pinched them lightly, making her squirm and moan. “Or…” His voice drifted off as he dragged his hands back down to her rear and nudged her stance wider with his knees. Then, his fingers were parting her dripping sex from behind, stroking incrementally deeper between her swollen folds as she gasped. “Perhaps, you mean here?” he purred, his face so close to her rear that she felt his hot breath on her skin. Gooseflesh rippled across her body; her thighs trembled.
“Yes,” Victoria hissed. She arched back into his touch further, effectively presenting her rear to him and giving him more access to her sex.
Rafe moaned in appreciation. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You are already so wet for me.”
“Yes,” she moaned nonsensically. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…” she repeated over and over as one, two, then three of his fingers invaded her, stretched her wide, and thrust with such tantalizing slowness that she thought she might expire from it. He worked his hand in deliberate undulations, as measured as the tide lapping at the shore. His wicked hand glided through her slickness and caressed her in just the way he knew would drive her mad.
He made a low moan of approval. “I think you are ready for more.”
“Hm?” Victoria was already half-lost in a haze of pleasure when he spun her around so her back was now pressed to the cool wood of the door. Before she realized what he was doing, he’d hooked one of her knees over his shoulder and bent his head to kiss her mound. Her cry of surprise quickly gave way to a gasp of delight when his tongue parted her there, and he began to taste her. His tongue speared through her folds, lapped up her nectar, and flicked and swirled the sensitive, erect pearl of her sex. A thousand colors exploded behind Victoria’s eyes. Never in her wildest imaginings had she considered this was something he might do to her—that he mightwantto do to her—and now that she had this knowledge, she knew she could never go back to life as it had been. This was awe-inspiring. This was rapture. This was the glorious perfection of lovemaking, the all-consuming delight that people lived and died for. This was…bliss.
Every practiced pass of Rafe’s tongue plucked at her senses; it drove her higher until the air felt too thin to properly breathe. She gulped it in great heaving gasps and fisted her fingers in Rafe’s dark curls, holding him in just the right spot to finally grant her the blinding release she’d been chasing.
She sobbed and trembled, tearing at his hair, clawing at his shoulders, pulling him closer with her heel digging into the backof his shoulder. She wanted him inside of her so badly that the emptiness pained her. Still, Rafe did not stop his ministrations with his wicked tongue. No matter how she fought and writhed, he forced her to ride out every last quavering thread of her orgasm until she was limp.
Only then did he carry her to the bed, kiss her soundly so she could taste her own sweet musk on his lips and tongue, and then lay her in the center of the bed. He ripped the clothes from his body and joined her, his hot skin sliding smoothly against hers.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her lips while his fingers gently plucked at her budded nipples. She felt every touch all the way to her core. He continued touching her as if memorizing her every curve and hollow while he told her how much he’d longed to be with her once more, and how hard she made him. The evidence of that throbbed heavily against her thigh, making her breath catch in her throat.
