The Boat Builder's Bed (20 page)

Her gasp was a long breathy inhalation—the sexiest sound in the world to him.

Her hips lifted up in an instinctive ‘take me’ invitation and he dragged the thong down to join her jeans.

“Sophie...” he whispered, smoothing his cheek over the fragrant skin of her belly and then dipping lower to explore the hot wet well between her thighs again. This time he was gentle, and Sophie rewarded him with soft grunts of satisfaction and appreciation, fingers fisting in his hair and then sliding out over his shoulders.

He pulled back, smiling up at her dazed face and gripping her jeans. He peeled them down until the unexpected barrier of her boots had him cursing.

“I’ll do me, Rafe, you do you,” she insisted, struggling to sit up and undo them.
 

Rafe stripped his jeans and boxers away, kicked off his shoes, and hurled them aside.
 

Sophie’s boots fell to the floor with two sharp thuds.
 

“Better,” he growled, grasping her jeans where they bunched at her ankles. He tugged them off, and at last his eyes lazered over her whole fair-skinned, super-female, utterly desirable body.
 

He hoped he wasn’t scaring her standing over her like a rampant stallion. He saw her bite her lip. Sensed her tiny hesitation at his size. Then she blinked slowly and lifted her arms towards him in welcome. He bent, smoothing his hands up her pretty legs, dropping tender kisses over her hips, her waist and her beautiful breasts before he claimed her luscious mouth.
 

Sophie scarcely dared breathe in case the dream-bubble burst. She lay flat on her back on the huge bed with Rafe lying half-across her. One of his thighs pressed between hers, pinning her down. His lips wandered over her shoulders and breasts, soft as curious butterflies. Despite his possessive weight she felt she could have drifted up and floated—light, carefree, wonderful.

She gloried in their obvious contrasts. In the few seconds she’d glimpsed him before he joined her on the bed she’d seen deeply tanned skin and the fascinating fine trail of black hair down his belly which fanned out to provide the perfect frame for his high-rearing dark sex. He was both frightening and wonderful. Powerfully strong yet treating her now as though she might break.
 

He was still just in control.
 

She wanted him wilder.

As he suckled and sent thrills shooting deep into her body, she pushed her hand between them and smiled when his breath caught at her touch. She wrapped her fingers around him, remembering the way he’d thrust up towards her like an animal seeking prey.

Now she was the hunter and he was her captive.
 

She tightened her grip, sliding the silky skin up and down over his steely core until he groaned in protest.

“How long do you expect me to last, woman?”

“Exactly long enough,” she teased, wondering where such confidence had come from.
 

He kissed her deeply, cradling her face in a big hand, seeking out the places that gave her most pleasure with the other. She arched up as his fingertips trailed down her neck charting her pulse-points and lingering whenever she reacted with a twitch or a sharp intake of breath.

“Better give you a little treat first.”

He drew back far enough to lock eyes with her in a long smoldering gaze. Then, fast as lightning, he slid down her body, forced her legs apart, bent her knees up over his shoulders and held her helpless.

“First one,” he said.

His wicked grin shone full of promise before his slippery tongue stroked over her exposed clitoris. Sophie convulsed and screamed in less than sixty seconds, rippling waves running from her scalp to her toes, brain bleeding white with sensation.
 

Nothing existed except for that insistent wet slide and her out-of-control body. When the pleasure hit pain-level she dragged his head away, gasping “no more...no more...too much...” in a voice that sounded as though it was somewhere outside, high over the sun-drenched beach. He’d sent her flying half-way to heaven.

Rafe closed his eyes and smiled. She’d gone off like a rocket, and didn’t that just make him feel powerful.

He turned his head and kissed her soft inner thigh, brushing his lips to and fro. Her scent surrounded him—not the innocent sweetness of roses or the fragrance of French perfume now, but the salty mysterious aroma of aroused woman seeking man.
 

He breathed her in as he traced his lips and tongue over her delicate skin...wandering slowly higher to her breasts again. He kept his attentions languid and dreamy until he’d gentled her down.

“Two,” he finally murmured, repositioning himself so his hands could explore.

Sophie sucked in her breath and gasped a horrified “no!”

Rafe held her astounded silver-grey gaze as he slowly licked the pad of his thumb. He doubted she needed any extra lubrication—she glistened with her own natural juices—but it was worth it just to see her eyes blaze with molten fire.

“Yes.” His thumb made contact.
 

Sophie’s hips jerked up.
 

His sex responded with a jerk of its own, and he just about lost it, wanting so much to be sliding deep into her hot little body.

He gritted his teeth until he was back in full control, then began to rub her in tiny slippery circles.
 

 
As Sophie breathed harder he pressed a finger below his thumb and watched, enthralled, as it sank deep into her heat. Soon he felt the slight tremors of her next approaching orgasm.

He glanced up to her face again. Fluttering eyelids now hid her beautiful eyes. Her lips were swollen and inflamed from his kisses, and her head thrashed from side to side on the pillow. Small moans grew into ecstatic gasps.

He twisted his finger up, caressing her from the inside as well. She parted her legs even further. Rafe grunted with pleasure, gratified at her reaction, even as his own body burned for release.
 

His thumb continued to circle above, and warm triumph blasted through his whole body as he felt her tense and tense and tense, and finally let go with a deep groan and contractions almost strong enough to break his finger.

God it’s going to be superb taking her...

He bent and suckled each of her rosy nipples in turn, then moved up the bed far enough to slide his hands into her hair and pull her face up for deep ferocious kisses.

He was all animal now, primed and pumped, vitally male and feverish to mate. He fumbled for one of the condoms he’d tossed onto the bedside cabinet and somehow managed to rip the pack open and sheath himself.

“Sophie,” he groaned on a desperate exhale, positioning himself and starting to tease her open. He pushed home in a long delicious slide, gazing deep into her eyes, wanting her to know exactly who was claiming her.

 
He pulled back and repeated his slow invasion several times until he was wedged deep, waiting until he felt her relax enough to welcome the strong thrusts of his full penetration.
 

“More,” she begged, but he had no intention of hurrying now he was finally where he wanted to be. He moved with deliberation, dancing a sinuous ballet, building the sensations until they rolled through him as intense and powerful as the nearby ocean waves.

“Rafe,” Sophie breathed. “You’ll kill me!”

She angled her body to take him even further into her slippery heat, enticing him to the limits of his restraint. An instant before he came, he felt her starting to quiver and clasp around him, and he somehow hung on for another few teeth-clenching seconds until she was right there with him.
 

They soared together, mouth on mouth, heart to heart, and flew.

Sophie lay cradled in the crook of his arm. His pulse surged like thunder right under her ear. His big hand stroked over and over her hip.

What have I done?
she agonized.
Broken the most important rule I ever set for myself. Mixed business with pleasure again for sure.
 

Or should that be mixed pleasure with business? There’d been more pleasure than she’d ever experienced. More pleasure than she’d imagined possible.
 

Rafe had swept her into bed when she’d been expecting a walk on the beach. He’d treated her as though she was precious and desirable, to be cherished and indulged instead of used for his own amusement. He’d been sensual and playful—and then he’d taken her with such hunger and intensity that her emotions whirled around like debris in a roaring hurricane.

 
“Okay?” he whispered, smoothing his hand higher to cradle her breast.

“Definitely okay.” She dared to look up at him at last. His dark eyes were half-closed, drowsy and relaxed. A smile played about his lips.

“More than okay for me,” he said. “Very special.”

“Yes.”
 

She’d never felt so cared-for and beautiful. Her well-being had never been such a focus for any other man. And still he held her instead of leaping out of bed and putting an abrupt end to their love-making.
 

But what a situation she was in now... She sighed with vexation and regret, and he tightened his arm around her, having no inkling of the problem she faced.

Now I have a lover who doesn’t know about my child.
 

Now I can’t possibly tell him for all sorts of
other
reasons.
 

Now I’m in really deep trouble.

“Win/win?” he suggested.

‘Win/lose,’
she thought, fearing what must surely follow.

“Back soon,” he said, finally rising on one elbow and holding the condom in place. He picked up the empty wrapper and walked the few steps to the en suite, knowing Sophie’s eyes were all over him. He hoped she liked what she saw. Hoped she’d enjoyed what they’d just done. Hoped even harder she was up for more.
 

When he returned a few minutes later he found her kneeling on the bed, searching under the pillows and bending over to pat the carpet.
 

He crossed the room in a couple of strides and sank onto the bed with an arm around her waist an instant later.

“Lost something?” he asked, pulling her against his hardening body.

“Another earring. A little bead on gold wire. I should get some with push-on clips instead of ones that just hook through.” She drew a startled breath as his intentions became clear. “Oh!”

“Just the sight of you is enough,” he said huskily. He nipped her shoulder. “The sight of your beautiful bare butt in the air is one hell of a turn-on. Bend over for me.” He knew his voice was thick with desire. Knew that wasn’t the only thing thickening. “Please,” he added, making a late effort at courtesy.
 

Without a word Sophie bowed over again and rested her arms on the pillows. Rafe stroked a possessive hand down her back and over her rump. She held still for him as a thoroughbred mare might, trembling slightly, her submissive posture thrilling him.

He moved behind her, repeating his caress with both hands now, running them down her back, thumbs pressing her thighs a little further apart each time. Neither spoke. The loudest noise in the room was the eventual ripping of the next condom packet.
 

Rafe glanced down at himself as he rolled it on. Obscenely stiff, veins standing out, itching to be inside her again.

Twice in just a few minutes? Not for years now. Sophie had turned him into a sex-fiend, and he had no objections as long as she didn’t.

He moved closer. She pushed back towards him, and with a groan he lined up, clasped her waist and slid slowly into hot heaven.

“Still okay?”
 

Her only response was to raise her hips and bend her arms so he could sink deeper. And deeper.

She trusts me so much?
 

Sophie gave a tiny grunt.

He pulled back a fraction and waited until she was comfortable. After a few seconds she pressed slowly backwards, her invitation clear.

“Stretch me,” she whispered.
 

Rafe closed his eyes the better to appreciate her heat and wetness and her close clasp around him. Incredibly tight from this angle. Buried so deep he barely dared move in case he hurt her.
 

But Sophie had other ideas.
 

“More,” she murmured. “That feels amazing.”
 

So she didn’t mind his cave-man approach? He withdrew and slowly slid deep again, appreciating his view of her smooth back and the spill of her tousled hair over the pillows.

She had him entranced. Unable to think straight unless she was part of the picture. And it wasn’t the sex, it was Sophie herself. He wanted to protect her, encourage her, nurture her, make her pregnant, reserve her only for him.

Marry her?
 

You’ve got it bad, man! Surely it’s once bitten, twice shy?

But this felt different. Sophie was no clinging vine demanding support. She’d shown him she could stand up for herself and manage her life on her own.

Rafe, who could afford to buy anything, had the sudden nasty suspicion he’d just found something he couldn’t.

She’d accepted his gifts but made it clear she wasn’t expecting them. She’d seemed more pleased with his phone-call from San Diego than his extravagant offering of French perfumes when he returned.
 

 
He was due to leave soon for the yearly round of boat-shows in Europe—time when Sophie might choose to be with someone else. That thought appalled him. He had a frantic fleeting vision of losing her before he’d properly established his claim.

But right now she was his, completely deliciously his. He thrust harder, desperate to imprint himself all over her.

Sophie planted her elbows more firmly as Rafe bent over her, driving deep and fast this time. He made her feel so female...so desirable. His strong forearms flanked hers, ensuring she wasn’t pinned uncomfortably by his weight. And with every deep slippery thrust the front of his thighs brushed the backs of hers and his testicles slapped against her, intensifying her impression of his virile masculinity.