The Secret Baby Scandal(47)

It amazed and shamed her that after ten years of holding herself apart, keeping herself numb and distant and totally under control, this one man, in one moment, had completely conquered her. Overcome her defences. Awoken her emotions. Reminded her of her own weakness.

The moment broke and Rafe’s mouth took sure possession of hers once more. Freya completely lost all power of thought. All power, full-stop. She could do nothing but respond, need, even if it made her weak. Again.

Rafe slid his hands to her shoulders, bracing her, before moving them to the hem of her tank top, and then underneath, sliding along her skin. The intimate contact overwhelmed her utterly. She stumbled back, needing the anchor of his hands, and he moved with her until her backside came into contact with a marble-topped table, the edge cold and hard against her.

In one fluid movement Rafe hoisted her so she sat on top of the table, and out of instinct and pure need she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer so they were—almost—in the most intimate contact possible. There could be no mistaking her intent…or his.

Rafe’s breathing was ragged as he continued to kiss her with a pent-up passion and fury that Freya’s body echoed and gave back to him. His tongue delved into her mouth time and time again and she felt the scrape of stubble on her cheek, the softness of his lips against hers, the glorious hardness of his body against hers, pressing, insistent.

Rafe did not break the kiss as he pulled at the waistband of her shorts, pushing them down, and Freya helped him, knowing this was moving crazily fast and yet powerless to stop it. Not wanting to.#p#分页标题#e#

His hand shook as he pulled at the waistband of his own pyjama bottoms, and then kicked them off. And then suddenly, amazingly, he was inside her. Freya gasped at the feeling; her body closed around him, tight and unused to the sensation, the sense of fullness and completion.

He muttered an oath, the words no more than a hiss, as he began to move. Freya moved with him, her face buried in the hot curve of his shoulder, tasting the salt of his skin. Or perhaps it was her own tears, because belatedly, distantly, she realised she was crying.

And then release came for both of them—an intense wave of emotion and pleasure that crashed over them, leaving them shuddering, silent and senseless.

His breathing still ragged, his chest heaving, Rafe remained in the circle of her arms, still inside her, for one precious beat, before he pulled away, yanked up his trousers and left the room.





CHAPTER SIX

RAFE stalked into his room, dazed and shaking. What had just happened?

He took a shuddering breath and raked a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He knew all too well what had happened. He just couldn’t believe he had done it. It seemed utterly impossible that he had just had sex with Freya Clark, yet he felt satiation stealing through his body even as his mind rebelled, denied. He had known her for less than twenty-four hours. He had had no intention of so much as laying a finger on her. And yet within minutes—seconds—all that had changed.

She had come close to him and he’d breathed in the faint scent of lilac that he knew must be from her soap or shampoo, seen the rise and fall of her chest through her thin tank top as she breathed, and he had felt a sudden, desperate tidal wave of yearning that he hadn’t been able to control.

And when she had responded in kind…her mouth opening under his, accepting, wanting…that tidal wave had dragged him under completely.

After four long, lonely years—years of living off anger and bitterness rather than desire or love—he’d wanted that immediate connection and satisfaction, had needed it from her, and that deep need had overtaken any reason or self-control he’d had. The thought shamed him.

And now he was left with the aftermath of that rash act. How could they go forward with that between them? How could they concentrate on Max? He would have to tackle it directly, Rafe knew, yet he could not face it now. The realisation shamed him further. He’d shown such appalling weakness. He shuddered, shook off the thought.

He would speak to Freya in the morning. Explain—what? That it shouldn’t have happened? He knew she would agree. Surely she hadn’t expected… Had she planned it? Rafe stilled, his body tensing with sudden suspicion. Had Freya been trying to seduce him as a way to bind herself closer to Max, keep him from finding another care-giver? The suspicions slid slyly into Rafe’s mind, causing him to freeze as he considered the awful possibility. He thought of how she’d placed her hand on his arm, how she hadn’t moved it. She’d looked up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth parted, waiting, and then her shocking, shameless response…