Page 37 of One Week With You
I’d been feral by that third round. Unhinged, probably.
“Is your back sore?” I asked, blushing lightly.
Rafe turned and smiled. His hungry eyes trailed the length of me, like he couldn’t make up his mind where to look first, even though there wasn’t anything to look at in this robe. I was cinched in at the waist but swamped in material.
“No,” he said curiously. “Why?”
“You have some marks there now. Sorry.”
I wasn’t in the least bit sorry, but I was British. We apologised for everything.
Rafe inhaled so deeply his chest lifted considerably with the movement.
“You look mad,” I said. “What did I say?”
“Nothing. It’s just my face. I can’t help it. If you must know, I’m trying not to rip off that robe, throw you down on the floor and fuck you until you scream.”
The image was so vivid, everything tightened with arousal and throbbed between my thighs. I forced myself to take a breath, pulse racing, face too hot. “I’m not opposed to that.”
He groaned, a gritty noise low in the back of his throat, fists clenched by his sides. “Get over here,” he demanded roughly.
I rushed towards him, rocking up onto my tiptoes so I could reach his mouth, moaning at the feel of all his hardness wedged against my soft.
“I don’t want you to hold back,” I breathed out between hurried kisses. “Haven’t we done that enough?”
“You have no idea what I want to do to you,” Rafe gritted out. “No fucking idea.”
Lost for words, I pulled on the ties at my waist and loosened the robe enough to expose a slither of my naked body. His nostrils flared as he drank me in. He ran one fingertip from the base of my neck,down, down, down, all the way to where I was hot and slick, needy for his touch. My legs widened, urging, begging for it, but instead he slid his hands inside the robe to grope at my hips and around to knead at the flesh of my behind.
“This ass… The things I want to do to it.”
I whimpered. This was too much. He’d barely started, and it was too much.
“If you ask, I might let you,” I whispered, and Rafe snapped.
He crushed our lips together again, a greedy lick into my mouth, kissing me so hard I grasped at his shoulders the way I needed to gasp for air. Desperate and needy. There was something near hysteria the way our tongues melted together hot and wet, and he yanked at the collar of the robe, so rough I thought it would rip.
The robe slipped from my shoulders, but the sound of my phone ringing on the coffee table startled us apart.
I glanced at the screen and whined. “I knew it. I just knew.”
Rafe breathed against the slope of my shoulder, mouthing delicate kisses that belied the fierce grip he had on my waist. “You better answer it then.”
“We’re kind of in the middle of something here,” I said, rubbing at the bulge in his sweatpants until he paused his torment to choke out a groan.
“Do it. She’ll only keep ringing otherwise.”
Ugh.Why did he have to make sense at a time like this?
“I… I can’t think when you’re touching me. Go stand over there.”
Rafe laughed, giving my shoulder one last bite before I pushed him away.
“Hi, Mum,” I managed, though I wasn’t sure how. Every cell in my body was on fire, alert,primed. I had to take a seat in case my knees gave out. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I missed you this morning.”
“I missed you too,” I lied.Oh my god, I’m a terrible person.I hadn’t given anyone else a second thought when I woke this morning. The only person on my mind watched me from across the room like I was about to be his next meal.
