Her nipple was spike hard against his touch and responsive beneath the rasp of his thumb as he caressed her. It tightened further beneath his touch, the mound of breast becoming more swollen.
“Rafer. God, yes,” she cried out as he found that spot in her pussy that had her jerking against him as his thumb stroked the berry-hard tip of her breast. “Oh God, it’s been so long,” she moaned.
She was beginning to lose herself to pleasure. Her pussy spasmed around his fingers as her hips shifted and ground into the penetration. The ripple of her inner muscles around each thrust was heaven and hell. The need biting at his cock, aching in his balls, was nearly more than he could stand.
This was what being with Cami was. Sensations so rich, so striking, it was all a man could do to survive it.
“Tell me, Cami,” he demanded his lips against her ear, his need to hear her acceptance tearing at him. “Are you brave enough, Cami girl? Tell me what you want. Are you hungry enough to ask for what you want now?”
Her head tipped back to rest against his shoulder. Each breath that passed her lips was a little moan as she fucked his fingers back. Her hips moved hard and fast. The warning ripples of her release began to tighten around his fingers as her body lifted and strained against him.
“Tell me, or I’ll stop.” He wouldn’t stop. He didn’t dare. His fingers were moving inside her. The need to feel her release becoming more desperate by the second.
Quick, hard strokes buried inside her flesh. His fingertips stroked the walls of her pussy. Each caress found nerve endings so sensitive that she was crying out begging with each whimper that left her throat.
“Please.” Her hands gripped his wrists, holding on to him as she began to pant for air. Her lashes feathered against her cheek. Her eyes closed, as her lips parted, and her expression began to tighten with her impending release. “Please, Rafer. Fuck me,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Fuck me until I come for you.”
He nearly spilled his seed in his jeans with no more than the sound of her voice begging for his touch, his fingers, his possession.
He increased the strokes, driving inside her harder, faster, as he began to work her into the release she begged so prettily for.
“Let me feel you come on my fingers first, baby. First my fingers, then I’ll fuck your sweet pussy with my tongue until you’re begging to come on it, too.”
He was too far gone, too far enmeshed in the hunger tearing through him to stop now. The need to pleasure her was suddenly deeper, more driving than his own need for release. Nothing else mattered, nothing else was as important as giving Cami the pleasure, the sheer ecstasy she deserved.
The long, ragged wail that left her lips was barely audible. As though the violence of the spiraling sensations had stolen the last breath she possessed as she suddenly tensed and began shuddering violently in his arms.
Her pussy flexed, tightening until he was forced to bury his fingers inside her and simply stroke the over excited flesh with his fingertips rather than risk hurting her with hard thrusts. The orgasm that tore through her and rippled around him, tightening her flesh around them had her juices rushing across his fingers.
So tight, the thought of having his cock buried in her as she came so violently made him insane to fuck her.
He existed purely for this pleasure.
In the back of his mind, Rafer knew he had been born to possess this one woman. That he could easily find himself living simply for the chance to touch her, to feel her coming for him, to hear his name as a gasping plea on her lips.
And if he wasn’t very very careful, she would destroy him when she slipped away from him again.
When Cami collapsed against him, her breathing harsh, heavy, Rafe lowered his head to her ear once more.
“Now, it’s my turn,” he said as she trembled against him. “Are you ready for me, baby? Because I’m damned sure ready for you.”
CHAPTER 4
She couldn’t do this.
As they tore off each other’s clothing, dropping shirts, jeans, and in her case silk panties, Cami kept telling herself she couldn’t allow this to happen.
This was Rafer Callahan. She had fought him, fought this hunger, this attraction for him for as long as she could remember. She had fought the emotional ties she had felt tugging at her. Well, not always. Not until Jaymi had been killed and she suspected her sister had died because of her friendship with Rafe, rather than because of a serial killer choosing her. She had realized what those emotional ties could cause. Losing Jaymi had nearly destroyed her world. She wouldn’t survive losing Rafe.
As he tore her panties from her hips his lips were on hers, his hands lifting her as her knees lifted and gripped his hard, lean flanks. Her body refused to obey the demands of her common sense. Her lips refused to say “no.”
The stiff, furiously engorged flesh of his cock was trapped between them, throbbing and pressing against the swollen, sensitive bud of her clit. Every nerve ending was sensitized. Hunger was tearing at her with furious demand.
He stumbled across the room as her hands buried in his hair, pulling free the strip of leather that held his long, thick black hair back from his savagely hewn face.
Gripping the thick strands, she tried to lift herself closer, to bury herself deeper in the kiss that stoked the flames burning in her pussy.
Her womb clenched, her body became hot and flushed despite the perspiration that gathered on her flesh.
This was what tormented her long into the night.
This was that unnamed hunger that gnawed at her and kept her searching restlessly for ease.
It was Rafer. His touch, his kiss, the steady, fiery demand of the hunger he poured into her.
This was what she hungered for.
For his lips moving over hers as she felt her naked buttocks settle on the heavy kitchen table.
The coffee cups were raked aside, the heavy plastic crashing on the floor.
Was this one of the fantasies he’d once told her he had about her?
Nothing could be as explicit as her fantasies for him.
“No,” the desperate command burst from her lips as his lips lifted, from hers his head pulling back as he stared down at her. Deep sapphire-blue eyes narrowed on her as they gleamed with naked, furious lust.
“I told you, I’m going to fuck your pussy with my tongue,” he told her. “I have every intention of tasting every bit of flesh I bury into.”
Her lips parted on a shocked exclamation. A totally involuntary sound as her hands dug deeper into his hair. Her neck arched as his lips ran along her jaw, then the column of sensitive flesh as her head fell back weakly to allow him access.
Broad hands flattened on her back as he kept her close to him, despite her perched position on the table. Angling his body between her knees, he pressed her thighs apart as he nipped at her neck. Then he licked the light abrasion, his tongue rasping over the sensitive flesh with erotic roughness.
Another moan slipped past her lips. That part of her that lived in fear of losing someone else she loved was screaming out in agony. Begging her to deny him.
What was it about his touch? What made Rafer Callahan so different from the other men she had dated? So different that as he lowered her along the table, her back meeting the cool wood, she would try to arch closer in eager anticipation. So different that the voice of agony was slowly silenced. She needed this. Needed him, his touch, his kiss, like the land needed sunlight and rain.
His thumbs found her nipples as her back arched.
The exciting abrasion of his calloused thumbs against the sensitive tips had her arching, twisting to get closer.