She wasn’t normally self-conscious, but his admiring gaze unnerved her, in part because she’d wanted this for so long. At the reminder, she turned her thoughts off and decided to enjoy. After all, this might be the only time she had with Rafe, and she wanted to savor and remember it all.
Her top was already wrapped around her waist, and it didn’t take long to shimmy both pieces down her legs and slide them off.
“Now we’re on equal footing.” His eyes darkened with need, his expression one of pure admiration.
She swung her good leg over his hips and settled her body over him. Warm skin against warm skin, he felt so good as she eased herself down and settled her lips on his.
He captured her head with the back of his hand, holding her in place while he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Like everything else they did, they were in complete synch, his rhythm and hers meshing perfectly. Each kiss, every roll of their hips, the rasping of her sensitive br**sts against his hair-roughened chest, was in unison.
His erection teased her, rubbing against her flesh, making her ache and want with a desperation she’d never experienced before. And the sensations were spectacular, shooting through her body, which now begged for completion.
She broke their connection only to grab for the condom packet on the edge of the bed and tear it open. She sat back, watching out for her knee, and rolled the condom over his shaft.
Her hands shook as she touched his rigid length, covered with soft skin. Her fingers lingered, feeling and learning him until his hips bucked upward, startling her.
“I suggest you get to it or it’ll be over before it begins,” Rafe said, his voice rough. He gripped the sheets beside him, knuckles white.
She’d obviously tortured them both long enough.
She bent her legs to lift herself over him. Pain shot through her knee, and she buckled over. “So much for me taking care of you.” She spoke over the searing pain, knowing it would eventually subside.
“Maybe we’re supposed to take care of each other.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes and met her gaze.
“What did you have in mind?”
He climbed out of bed. He was gorgeous, his body tanned and fit. He pulled a chair from the desk in the corner, turned it around and sat down.
Then he crooked a finger her way. “Come here,” he said, his tone sexy and full of need.
She stood and walked over. “I like how you think.”
As she swung her bad leg over his thighs, he grasped her hips and helped her maneuver directly over his erection, which jutted out at her, poised for entry.
He placed one hand over her mound, using his finger to spread her moisture, tease her flesh. She bit down on her lip, allowing the gentle but insistent sensations to take over, enjoying his tender touch until her good leg buckled from the weight.
“Ready?” he asked gruffly.
She nodded.
Raising her hips, he lifted her and settled his erection at the juncture of her thighs. He thrust upward at the same moment she released herself and settled onto him completely.
The shock of the connection made her pause. He was thick inside her, buried deep. She met his gaze and saw the same sense of rightness and awe settle over his handsome face. It scared her so much she shut her eyes and rocked her hips in an attempt to focus on the sensations in her body, but for the first time she couldn’t separate emotion from need. Desire from yearning.
He tugged at her hair, and she opened her eyes. He wanted her to watch. She saw it in his face and was powerless to deny him.
And then they began to move together, in unison, the rock of her hips, the thrust of his, working together to take her higher and higher. He was buried so deep, she felt all of him inside her, every thick, rigid, velvet inch as they ground together where their bodies joined.
Harder, faster, he took her higher.
He breathed deep, his exhales sounding like erotic groans in her ear.
His hips rocked against hers over and over, and she gasped at each sensual assault, the waves coming at her from all sides, inside and out. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dilated, and every raw groan took her closer to the explosive orgasm that was just out of reach.
She wrapped her arms around his neck to thrust harder against him, letting him plunge higher and deeper. He released her hair, slipping his hand between them again and touching her where she needed it most. His fingertip slid over her, and the pressure sent her spiraling out of control as she exploded, coming in wave after never-ending wave that took him along for the ride. His last final groan reverberated in her ear and sent shock waves through her body.
Even after the contractions subsided, Sara held on to him for dear life, her arms still around his neck. But when reality came pouring back, she unlocked her hands and released him, easing herself off, careful not to put too much pressure on her bad knee.
She heard rustling behind her, and then, taking her by surprise, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into bed.
No words were spoken as, naked, he curled himself around her, held on tight and fell asleep.
She didn’t relax as quickly or as easily, the ramifications of finally making love to Rafe hitting her hard.
She’d dreamed of this, but the reality was far more potent and exciting than she’d ever imagined. Even with them both not quite at one hundred percent, he’d satisfied her like no man ever had. Because he’d breached the emotional walls she’d always kept high. Walls she’d just have to make higher now that she knew what they were capable of together.
Because no matter how incredible, Sara knew one thing for sure when it came to relationships: all good things had to come to an end.
RAFE WOKE UP to an empty bed and the sound of the shower running in his bathroom. He immediately processed two things. The good news—Sara was still here. The bad news—she wasn’t in his bed.
He stretched, feeling the pull of muscles telling him he was alive and feeling good. Better than good. Great.
The water stopped running, and his gaze wandered to the closed bathroom door.
He eased himself up against the headboard, propped his arms behind his head and waited.
A few minutes later, the door swung open and steam trailed out, followed by Sara wrapped in one of the beige towels his mother had bought him when he’d moved in, convinced he needed her help.
“Good morning,” he said.
She jumped, obviously startled. “I didn’t realize you were up.”
“I am now.” In more ways than one, after viewing her glistening skin, damp hair and creamy exposed skin.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”