In answer she wrapped both arms around him and hugged him tight. She slid one hand down to cup his firm buttocks as he undulated his hips against her.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispered. “Tell me how to please you, Bryony.”
Her hands ran up his back to his shoulders and then one slid to his nape, her fingers thrusting upward into his hair.
“You’re doing just fine,” she said dreamily. “I feel like I’m floating.”
He dropped his head to suck lightly at her neck and then he nibbled to the curve of her shoulder and sucked again, harder this time until she was sure he’d leave a mark.
She hadn’t had such a mark since she was a teenager, but strangely it thrilled her that she would have a reminder of his possession.
He groaned. “I’m sorry, Bryony. I can’t—Damn it.” He issued several more muffled curses that ended in a long moan as he increased his pace.
As soon as the intensity changed, the orgasm that had begun as a lazy, slow build escalated into a sharp coiling burn low in her abdomen. It rose and spread until she gasped at the tension.
She dug her fingers into his back, not knowing how else to handle the mounting pressure. She arched her buttocks off the bed, pushing him deeper inside her. He tensed and shuddered against her, reaching fulfillment while she was still reaching blindly for her own.
He pulled from her body, rolled to the side and slid his hand between her legs, caressing and stroking her taut flesh. He lowered his head to her breast and sucked her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue as he pressed another finger inside.
His thumb rolled over her clitoris, his fingers worked deep and his mouth tugged relentlessly at her breast. Her surroundings blurred and the coiling tension suddenly snapped, unraveling at super speed.
“Rafael!”
Her back came off the mattress and her hand went to his hair, gripping, her fingers curling into his nape as she went rigid underneath him.
Her release was sharp. It was sweet. It was intense. It was one of the most shattering experiences of her life. She was left clinging to him, saying his name over and over incoherently as she came down.
He continued to stroke her, more gently than before, sweetly and comfortingly as she settled beneath him, her body quivering and shaking like she’d experienced a great shock.
Her mind couldn’t quite put it all together yet. All she knew was that it had never been this way between them before. She was … shattered. There was no other way to put it. And completely and utterly vulnerable before him. Bare. Stripped.
He gathered her close, holding her tightly as they both fought for breath. His hands seemed to be everywhere. Caressing. Touching. Soothing. He kissed her hair, her temple, her cheek and even her eyelids.
The one thing that seemed to penetrate the haze that surrounded her was that however undone she was, he’d been equally affected.
She wrapped herself around him as tightly as he was wound around her, snuggled her face into the hollow of his neck and drifted into a fuzzy sleep, so sated that she couldn’t have moved if she wanted to.
Bryony woke to warm kisses along her shoulder and hands possessively stroking her body.
“Mmm,” she murmured as she lazily stretched.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. I’d hate to think I was taking advantage of a sleeping woman.”
She laughed. “Oh, I bet.”
“I have a lot to make up for,” he said.
He slid his mouth down the midline of her chest and then over the swell of one breast.
“You do?”
He traced the puckered crest of her nipple with his tongue and then sucked gently. He let go and looked up to meet her gaze. In the soft glow of her bedside lamp, she could see regret simmering in his eyes.
“Evidently I have no control when it comes to you. I wanted to make it good for you. I wanted it to last. I didn’t take care of you very well. I guess it goes along with my selfish-bastard ways.”
She rolled her eyes and lifted her palm to caress the side of his face. “If I had been any more satisfied I think I would have died. I like that I drove you a little wild.”
He arched one eyebrow. “A little? I’m not sure that accurately describes the mind-numbing experience I had. I don’t ever remember losing it like that with any other woman. Was it like that between us before?”
“No,” she said softly. “Not like that.”
“Better?”
“Definitely better.”
“Ah, good then. I was starting to feel threatened by the self I couldn’t remember.”
She laughed and then so did he. It felt good for once to joke about an event that had altered the courses of both their lives.
“I’m hungry.”
He lowered his mouth to her breast again. “So am I.”
Laughing, she smacked his shoulder. “For food! It’s been … What time is it anyway?”
He shrugged underneath her palm that had stilled on his shoulder. “Sometime in the wee hours of the morning. We slept a long time. You wore me out.”
“Let’s eat in bed and then …”
He arched an eyebrow as he stared lazily back up at her. “Then what?”
She smiled wickedly. “Then I’m going to have dessert.”
“In that case—” he scrambled up, covers flying “—you stay here. I’ll get us something to eat and be back in a minute.”
She pulled the covers to her chin and snuggled into the pillows, smiling as he strode naked out of the bedroom. He didn’t look at all abashed by his nudity. Confidence in a man was so sexy. She sighed and stretched, a dreamy smile spreading across her face.
Fifteen minutes later, Rafael returned with a tray holding two saucers. Piled on each was two grilled-cheese sandwiches. There were two glasses of leftover lemonade from lunch.
She sat up as he placed the tray over her lap and her mouth watered at the smell of the buttery grilled bread and melted cheese.
“Oh, this is perfect.”
“Glad you approve. It was all I could think of that would be done this quickly,” Rafael said as he climbed onto the bed. He sat cross-legged in front of her and reached for one of the sandwiches.
They ate, stealing glances, their gazes meeting and then ducking away. She was mesmerized by this unguarded side of Rafael. If possible she was more in love now—after only a few days—than she’d been before. It seemed like he was freer with her now.
She left half of one of the sandwiches and drank the lemonade down then waited patiently for him to finish his own food.
When he would have gotten up to remove the tray, she leaned forward and wrapped her hands around his wrists, holding him motionless. Then she shoved the tray off the bed. It landed with a clatter, the saucers and glasses rolling this way and that.
She kissed him. Not a sweet, nice-girl kiss. She gave him the naughty version that said I’m about to have my wicked way with you.
“Oh, hell,” he groaned.
“Oh, yes,” she purred just before she gave him a shove.
He fell back, sprawled on