Page 101 of Raff
One arm went around my upper chest, the other my belly, and his lips pressed in at my neck.
Only then did he start to move again.
But everything had tipped, changed. There was none of the desperation from a moment before.
When he dropped his hips, he gently rocked back into me, making me achingly aware of each inch as something seemed to break open in my chest, allowing it to fill with him.
“Harder,” I demanded. Not out of real desire, but in response to the flayed feeling in my chest, and the need to think of anything but how right this felt.
“No, baby,” he said, lips pressing kisses up my neck. “Slow. Sweet.”
My hips wiggled, writhed, tried to silently convince him otherwise. But he was committed to the softness, to the intimacy that was impossible to ignore.
The tension still coiled low in my stomach, desire still bled into every moment. But it was something more than that, something deeper, an emotional reaction that had my eyes going glassy and my heart feeling too big for my chest.
“Tell me you want me,” he demanded, his lips gliding up the shell of my ear.
“I want you.”
“And you’ve been thinking of me.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re scared of how much.”
I leaned back against him, my voice whisper-soft. “Yes.”
“You could choose me,” he said, his arms squeezing me tighter. “And I would spend my life showing you why that was the right decision.”
His hips thrust and rolled.
And the orgasm rolled through me like thunder, deep and bone-shaking.
Raff groaned, his forehead pressing into my temple as his hips bucked, as his body tensed, as he came with me.
I was suspended in the trembling aftermath, my body too overwhelmed for my mind to form a single thought for what felt like an eternity.
But when my brain cleared, it was panic that overtook me, making me jerk away from Raff, to move around the desk, to put it between us.
Raff’s chest expanded as he took a deep, disappointed breath, seeming to sense the change in me.
“I can’t—”
“You can,” he objected, yanking his pants back into place. “You can if you let yourself.”
He was right.
I could.
I could choose him.
I could let him love me.
I could express the love I felt toward him in return.
I could do that.
And yet the fear was what overtook me.
