Page 55 of Rafferty's Rules
‘I don’t doubt it, love. You know what else I think?’ His expression changes immediately—from calculating to a kind of openness that’s a mix of breathtaking and a little frightening. ‘I think this is your way of trying to protect me.’
‘Honey, you overestimate me. I’m just trying to get you into bed.’
His resultant smile is a lesson in pure wickedness, and confirming my thought, he springs from his chair like a large cat. ‘Fuck it,’ he growls, ‘you and your little note do my ego a world of fucking good.’
I actually squeal as we both fall on the bed, face to face. His hand on the bare skin of my thigh is no less than proprietorial, and the brush of his lips against mine is absolutely electric. Oh, God, I feel so lightheaded, but it’s not because of the pounding of my heart, it’s more from being so turned on. I want to glue myself to him—lips, hand, and all other places. I want him to use his nickname for me, then, in turn, I’ll use my teeth all over him.
‘What are you waiting for?’ he rasps, toying with the hem of my shorts.
‘W-what do you mean?’
‘You’ve beensoeager to get me into bed, and here I am. What are your plans?’
‘I—’ I was kind of hoping he’d take it from here for a while. Let me catch up at my own pace and learn on the job, so to speak. The lights are on, the French doors open, the thin drapes fluttering in the breeze as noise from the outside drifts in.The night chorus of birds. A car passing. A conversation somewhere.And I’m still holding the paper and pen clutched against my chest. ‘I think we should finish this first,’ I eventually answer, shuffling the note between the tight confines of our bodies.
‘I don’t think I’ll have any regrets.’ His knowing gaze is an invitation—a provocation.
‘All the same, I think it’s best to be certain,’ I reply, my wobbling voice betraying my need.
‘If you insist.’ Before I can form another word, I’m on my front, and Rafferty is over me. His knees are either side of my hips as he whips the T-shirt off over my head. The pen gets caught, my glasses, too, though Rafferty rights them on my face and even places the pen back in my hand as he towers over me.
‘We wouldn’t want you at a disadvantage, would we?’ he murmurs huskily, kissing the soft skin behind my ear. Slipping his knee between my thighs, he dips down, undulating against me. Over me, he’s hard, so hard, his breaths uneven and taut, and all I can think about is how good it’ll eventually feel. The slow, deep slide of him. The weight of him. The feel of him as we become one.
I think I’ve become ninety percent liquid, or maybe that’s just what’s going on between my legs as I throb in time with his roiling movement, my sighs chasing his.
‘Fuck, Lis. I can feel the heat of your pussy through my jeans.’
I make the most unladylike of noises, but I can’t help it. I’ve never been spoken to this way before. His words pull at the ripe sensation seated deep in my core.
‘You like that, do you? A little dirty talk?’
Why do I sound like a wounded animal—noises he praises me for.
‘You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?’ I nod my head; right now, I’ll be anything he wants me to be, so long as he keeps rocking his hardness into me. ‘Such a good, good girl. Let’s get this contract finished to both of our satisfaction so we can fuck.’
I shiver as the words curl around my ear, my insides tightening at the harsh fricative, and my fingers boneless and unresponsive as Rafferty sets the pen in my hand for the second time. His large palm flattens the paper in front of me.
‘What should be on the list next, bite-sized?’
‘Orgasms,’ I pant out. ‘Lots of them, please.’ Even if that’s not what the list was intended for. In fact, this whole exercise has been turned on its head.
‘I reckon that goes without saying in ourno-holds-barred sexy times.’
‘That should sound ridiculous,’ I sort of pant. ‘Not mildly pornographic.’ He should be a voice actor. I bet he’d make a fortune reading erotic audiobooks, especially with that accent.
‘You like a bit of porn, do you?’ I turn my head over my shoulder to protest and am rewarded by his mouth instead. ‘Such a sweet girl, too. Even if she does watch porn.’ He bites his lip, and I swear I feel the press of his mouth between my legs. ‘What’s your poison, love? What do you like?’
‘I ... I...’ Do I go with truth or fiction? Truth or fic— ‘I’ve never watched porn.’ The words explode from my mouth so hard they echo in my eardrums.
In response, Rafferty pauses above me, his eyes dark and complicit, the corner of his mouth quirking and not, I sense, in amusement.
‘Put it on the list.’ The quirk turns into a sly smile.
‘What? No!’ Oh, my word. What have I gotten myself into? And why does it feel so good? ‘It’s not that kind of list,’ I add a little primly even though my heart seems to have relocated to the vicinity of my womb. And if it’s not my heart, then what is that pounding there?’
‘Read the title to me again, would you?’
‘You know what it says,’ I protest weakly.
