A Beautiful Distraction(86)

“Did you enjoy the show?” she sneered, forcing her body to take a step away from him.

His eyes hardened as he moved into her office. He was unhurried as he took deliberate steps toward her.

The backs of her knees hit the couch and she reached down to grab the armrest for support as Rafe continued his leisurely advance. When he reached her, his hand slowly wound around her back and scooped her naked body into his arm, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the quick thud of his heart against his chest as her body soaked into him.

“Babe,” he implored, the ink spattering in his eyes morphing with raw need.

She flattened her palms on his chest, trying to force a sliver of space between their bodies. “Rafe, you’re drunk. I’ll have Simone call you a cab. You need to go home.”

His large hands skillfully traced up her arms as he lowered his head to hers. She could smell the whiskey mixed with the aroma that was Rafe and Rafe alone—the mere scent could inebriate her.

“Babe, the only thing I need right now is inside you. I just watched a roomful of men watch you bare this beautiful body to them.” A hand moved to her nape, tilting her head back to look at him while the other kneaded her breast with the pad of his thumb, causing her to melt against him. “This is mine, gorgeous,” he growled. “I need to be inside you.”

He was demanding her at the same time he was begging her. The command, the plea . . . They were both tangled together so tightly that they became one, and she had no choice but to give it to him. She’d be lying if she tried to convince herself that her body wasn’t his. It belonged to him since the first moment she saw him.

“Babe,” he growled, the strain in his voice almost agony.

Holding his quicksand eyes, she removed his hand from her breast and placed it between her thighs. A jagged, raw groan vibrated in his throat as he sank his touch into the heated depths of her sex.

Her knees liquefied beneath her and Rafe used the force of his body pressing against her to keep her upright.

She didn’t realize how much she needed his touch until that very moment. A satiated sigh escaped her throat and rolled over her lips and she dropped her head to his shoulder.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he said, steadily stroking her with his fingers, bringing her to the place that only he’d been able to reach. “It’s mine, babe. This. Is. Mine. Give it to me,” he coaxed as his mouth lingered below her ear. The warm flat of his tongue lapped at the moisture still clinging to her skin. She shivered.

Her hands flew to his biceps and she clung to him, needing the strength he was offering her, as a current of pleasure tore through her core. Her teeth sank into his shoulder. “Rafe . . .” She moaned, her body shuddering against him as he sent her cascading into the depths of his touch.

He withdrew his fingers from her, too quickly, and the sudden absence undulated a whimper from her lips. She lifted her head, her eyes searching the ones staring back at her, looking for something that would solidify the way his touch had just made her feel, looking for something that would confirm the emotion that was abrading her, wearing her down bit by delicious bit. Breaking her.

She was his. He’d claimed her body, and even with the bricks she’d laid, he’d claimed her heart. He’d broken her. He’d loved so hard he’d broken her impenetrable barriers and taken the love she didn’t even know she possessed.

His lips lowered to hers, gently, carefully, and the sensations numbed her. His tongue parted her lips and slipped into her mouth, swirling and tasting and consuming her with his kiss.

She was lost, unable to move. Her body was still shivering from his touch, and his mouth, his kiss, had stolen her thoughts. She was consumed in him once again, just as he always managed to do. His intensity swallowed her, burrowing her within his warmth.

But his mouth hardened above hers and a tortured groan hummed against her naked body through the thin material of his T-shirt. She felt it, the shift in his kiss, the hesitance in his warmth.

Then he pulled away.

The cold air slammed into her, nearly knocking her over.

He closed his eyes briefly and licked his lips. “Cherries,” he whispered, then dropped his hands from her face and turned toward the door.

“Rafe?”

His head turned over his shoulder, his intoxicated stare slicing her open—raw. Her skin pricked from the look in his eyes, a physical pain to go along with the excruciating heartbreak she was about to endure.

She shook her head, pleading. Take her control! She didn’t want it! She wanted to feel carried by his strength, suffocated, smothered in his intensity. Everything he’d given her, she wanted it back. Yet the words never left her mouth.