He had always tried to be, but there had been times over the years that he had wished he wasn’t so damned honest. That trait could be decidedly inconvenient when the rest of the world just loved a good lie.
He sipped his coffee, refusing to comment or to refute her statement.
“I really need to get home,” she finally sighed as she lifted the cup to her lips again.
Rafe let her take a sip, gave it time to hit her system, then sat back in his chair and watched her with lazy amusement.
“It’s not happening, sweet pea,” he told her lightly. “Even I’m not crazy enough to try to drive in that particular blizzard. We wouldn’t even make it out of the drive to the main road.”
She brushed back the long fringe of bangs that fell over her forehead. Rafe realized then that her fingers were shaking.
Glancing at the vein throbbing at her throat, he saw the hard, quick pulse as it thundered beneath her flesh.
Excitement or fear?
There wasn’t a chance it was fear. She was aroused. Hot. Horny. She was ready to fuck. At least her body was. And he could just imagine how sweet and tight her pussy was.
“I’m going to fuck you before you leave here,” he told her carefully, leaning forward against the table as he braced his forearms on the top and stared into her shocked face. “I’m going to have the sweetest treat right here on this table when I bury my lips in your pussy and lap at the sweetest cream in the world. Then, I’m going to watch, Cami. While those pretty, pink lips stretch around my dick, I’m going to watch while I sink every inch of it up your hot little pussy.”
Her lips parted, eyes widening, her face flushed a becoming peach, almost the color of her pussy in full arousal.
“Tell me, do you still moan and cry when you come? Do you make your lovers growl like an animal when they come inside you because it’s so fucking good they could die in that moment and never regret it?”
“Stop.” She stumbled from the table, heading for the door as Rafe jumped from the chair, uncaring as it crashed to the floor, and caught her around her waist. In the next heartbeat he had her front pressed against the wall, his harder, taller body pressing against her back.
“Don’t say stop, damn you,” he said his head bent, his lips touching the delicate shell of her ear. “Say no. Go ahead, Cami, fucking say it. Tell me you don’t fantasize about having me inside you. Fucking you like I’m dying for you.” Tell me that you don’t touch yourself, whisper my name, and masturbate to the memory of my dick stretching you to the point where you didn’t know if it was pleasure or pain. Go ahead. Tell me, damn you, that you don’t want my dick buried inside you so bad it’s all you can do to breathe for it.”
A whimper, a fragile, soft little cry, was his only answer as he watched her fingers curl into a fist against the wall, felt her body tense as she fought against the hunger.
“I dare you.” He breathed out against her ear. “I dare you to tell me ‘no.’”
He had braced one hand against the wall, and pushed the other beneath her sweatshirt, immediately finding silky, heated, naked flesh.
He flattened his hand against her stomach, feeling the muscles clench and ripple in response. His fingers moved to the snap of her jeans.
“Rafer, please!” A beseeching little whimper slipped past her lips. As though she wanted to. She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to deny it, refuse the pleasure.
He knew it, and a part of him hated her for it.
“Don’t do this to us,” she whispered, her voice hoarse despite the softening of her body as the snap of her jeans released and his fingers gripped the tab of the zipper. “You’ll destroy us both Rafer.”
One hand jerked to his wrist, her delicate fingers gripping it as he slid the zipper down.
“And this hunger isn’t already destroying us?” His fingers were almost shaking as he pushed them into the opening he’d made in the jeans, her fingers uncurling but still lying against his forearm. “Tell me, Cami, how could it be worse?”
He prayed he didn’t give her a chance to answer, because he knew it could get worse. He had seen it worse.
But this, this was paradise. This was a healing balm to the pain that often racked his soul. This was Cami, and God help him, he needed her.
His fingers found the folds of her pussy, so slick and naked to the touch. He had to clench his teeth to hold back the groan rising in his chest.
“You still wax,” he whispered as her legs shifted, parting farther for him rather than closing against his touch. “I love the feel of your bare pussy, Cami. Feeling it against my fingers.” He licked the shell of her ear as he fought to breathe. “Against my tongue,” he said with rising hunger. “I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, baby. Fuck you and taste your come as you orgasm. I’m going to lick every sweet drop of it from your pussy.”
He stroked his fingers around her clit as he spoke, plumping it, exciting it as he felt it throb and swell beneath his fingers.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why do you have to do this to me?”
He slid his fingers lower, parting the plump, swollen flesh and finding the clenched entrance of her cunt.
“Why?” Was the anger churning with the hunger inside her as it was for him? “Because you ran from me. Not just once or twice, Cami. Three times. You ran from me as though you were too ashamed to face the fact you had let a Callahan touch you. Because you left before I even awoke, and thought I’d take it.”
Two fingers. With two fingers he pushed inside with a determined, hard stroke as the silky juices gathered around his them and aided the penetration. Her snug flesh was liquid-hot, her too-tight pussy clenching and rippling around the impalement.
She was still virgin tight, reminding him how long it had taken him to work his cock inside her untouched flesh that first time. And the two years after. He’d known each time he took her that there had been no other lovers. No other man had touched what he had been the first to claim.
“We could be stuck here for days,” he groaned as she cried out against the penetration. “Just think of how many ways I could fuck you, Cami. And if you’re as brave as you were five years ago, I’ll end up sinking my dick up that sweet ass of yours before you leave.”
Pressing her hips closer, he ground his jeans-covered dick against her rear at the thought. She would be a virgin there as well as untouched. The extremity of the pleasure he could give her was unknown. The thought of the uncontrolled violence of her pleasure — a pleasure only he would give her — had him desperate for her now.
And it was no less intense for her. He could hear it in the low cadence of her moans, feel it in the clench of her ass against him, and her pussy gripping his fingers. Her juices spilled slick and hot around him with each thrust of his fingers, each slow grind of her hips.
“Rafer.” The sound of his name on her lips had the power to make his dick harder, thicker. And he would have thought that was impossible.
He wanted inside her. So deep inside her that he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. So deep that when it was over it would be like ripping her heart from her chest to deny him, because that was what it was like for him. Like killing himself.
“Please—” Her hips churned moving against his thrusting fingers with jerky, desperate movements, as her sex clenched and milked his fingers hungrily.
“You want me inside you, don’t you, Cami?” he said. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you, baby? Deeper and harder than before. Fuck you until you can’t live without my cock sliding inside you any more than I could live without your sweet pussy milking the come from my balls.”
He pushed his hand up her torso, his palm finding a bare, unrestrained breast and he cupped the swollen mound with hungry desperation.