Page 103 of Rafferty's Rules
‘Thinking about,’—truth or fiction?— ‘whether you’re going to kiss me.’
This isn’t a lie or the truth, but someplace in between.
Until he takes the glass from my hand, making it all so very real
I can smell the soap on his skin and the tang of the wine on his lips as he pulls me closer, the blue in his gaze drawing darker as he tilts his head. His lips brush mine once in no more than a glance.
‘Like this?’
I reach up, cupping the back of his neck and bringing him closer. It’s all the encouragement he needs as he presses his lips against mine, harder, longer, more, my fingers tight on his shoulders to keep him there, my body determined to keep him there as he hums a contented response. I begin to writhe against him, desperate to feel more of him, more mouth, more tongue, more hands . His hands on my shoulders, he moves me back just a little, before his hands make a slow sweep of my body, sliding across my hips, up my belly to the tips of my breasts where he teases.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he murmurs. ‘My favourite smell is your skin.’
And then we’re kissing again, and he’s loosening the buttons at my breast. Teasing and touching, his stubble rasping over my skin. When he bites my ear, I almost convulse. Then his hand on my thigh, skimming under the hem as though he doesn’t quite know where he wants to taste me first. I’m lightheaded from his kisses, from the taste of the wine on our lips. Drunk on his touch as his hand presses tight on my hips, his kiss deepening. I hear myself moan as his hand glides to cup my butt, his chest so close to mine, I can almost feel the thud of his heart.
His fingers slip between my legs, teasing me over the cotton, my body reacting with a jolt at the sweet press of them, my hips chasing their rhythm as I chant my petition of need.
‘Please, Rafferty.Please, touch me.’
Chapter 31
RAFFERTY
I swear I only wanted to distract her. Get her out of her funk.
But I can’t get enough.
Her mouth falls open and she exhales a hoarse sounding plea as I lick from the hollow of her throat up her neck. I cling to her, touch her, slide my mouth over her skin to taste every inch of her.
Bringing her home was the right thing to do. She’s like the rain washing my sins away, leaving everything fresh again. Her touch overwrites my bad memories, her mouth and her sighs overlaying them with something new. Something real.
But when she’s gone, will I still feel the same?
I groan into her neck as she pushes my shoulder, my lower back hitting the bar, her fingers making quick work of my shorts. Her dress is unbuttoned, her nipples dark against the pale of her skin, her ruby lip trapped between her teeth as she works her hand in.
‘You slay me.’ I reach out, pulling a strand of her dark silky hair. But she doesn’t look up instead, bending at the waist, she draws her tongue along the underside of my cock. My whole body reacts like I’ve been lashed by a live line, every inch of me taut and tight. And as she licks around my head, I exhale a rough curse.
‘I might not know wine,’ she whispers, ‘but I know you like this.’
‘Yes.. .’ And fuck yes. But it’s all her, not the blowjob.
Her delicate hand grips the base of me, her lips teasing and touching as her dark lustful gaze flicks up the length of my body.
‘Do you think you’ll remember me when I’m gone?’ I swallow the lump in my throat as she adds, ‘Like this, I mean?’
Is she asking me if I’ll remember her on her knees? Of course I will, to play over in my head again and again. But that’s not the only way I’ll remember her.
That’s... that’s some fucked up thinking.
Does she really think so little of me?
I thread my hand under her arm and try to pull her straight.
‘No.’ As she licks my head, my knees almost give out. ‘I want to finish this,’ she whispers, swirling her tongue, sucking me into her mouth for good measure, or maybe just to see me squirm. ‘I know you were holding back before. Tell me what you like.’
Before. In the kitchen back in Sydney. When I wanted to hold her hair in my fist. When I wanted to fuck her face. But before doesn’t matter. Before was a different thing. This time I know I’ll remember her forever. And I tell her so.
‘You, sweetheart, I will never forget.’
