Midnight Sins (23 page)

heat blazing as his lust tore through her; resisting him

was impossible. Her body was clamoring for more,

each touch stroking the flames of lust higher, she

moaned into his kiss, his taste; Each stroke of his

tongue an aphrodisiac to her senses. Each touch of

his body against hers a flame she couldn’t deny.

It had to just be lust.

She could control it. She promised herself she

would control any emotions that threatened to rise in

that darkened corner of her soul that she’d always

ignored. Ignored yet protected with every breath. Until

Rafe stole her breath and slipped right past those

defenses.

The emotions threatened to build as she gave in

to the kiss and returned it with the same ferocity, the

same hunger, which it was given. Focusing on the

pleasure alone was all she could do. If she let herself

feel, if she allowed that dark corner inside her, where

Rafer always dominated, to open then she could be

lost forever.

The sensual, dominant, and forceful plundering of

her mouth was only the precursor to the pleasure, and

she knew it. She could feel what was coming. She

could feel the flames building, the sensations

becoming stronger, piercing deeper than they ever

had before. As though the primal anger, the rage that

burned so deep inside her, had only this outlet to find

freedom.

His hands pushed beneath the shirts, moving to

her back to unclip her bra, and dragging a hungry

moan from her throat. A wild, feverish heat burned

through her womb. It spreading to her pussy, to the

swollen bud of her clitoris, and made her drunk on the

need. The lace and silk cups of her bra loosened,

rasping over the tender nipples as his hands moved

to cup the swollen mounds.

His fingers found the tender tips, gripping them

firmly, sending a furious burst of pleasured pain

through them as his fingers worked them sensually.

Milking them. Sending fingers of fiery, agonizing

pleasure tearing through them straight to her womb.

She could feel her juices gathering. Liquid hot,

sensitizing her pussy further.

She should be furious. She should be fighting

him tooth and nail. She should never give in to the

dominant, forceful taking of her senses.

But this was Rafer.

He
was
dominant.

He
was
forceful.

His head jerked back, but only because he was

quickly pulling the sweatshirt and T-shirt over her

head. He tossed them to the floor before pulling the

straps of her bra over her arms and throwing it aside.

She had a chance to fight; to escape. Instead,

she pulled at his shirt, buttons popping, scattering

heedlessly to the floor as she tried to tear it from his

shoulders. Nothing mattered but touching him. She

needed to feel his flesh against hers. She ached for it.

Her body pulsed with the overwhelming hunger for it.

“Damn you,” she cried out furious with him, with

herself, because once he’d touched her, she’d been

lost. She was lost. His lips moved to her neck, raking

over the sensitive nerve endings as the pleasure

pouring through her rocked her senses. “I won’t let you

do this to me.” But she let her head fall back, trembled

at the feel of his tongue licking over it. “I won’t let you

—” She wasn’t going to let him steal her heart, too.

“Who’s asking your permission?” he growled.

“Shut the hell up and give me your kiss. Damn you,

you’ll fucking be the death of me.”

His lips came over hers again, hungry, seeking,

his tongue meeting hers and creating a wave of

powerful sensuality that that threatened to overpower

them.Cami was only barely aware they were moving,

gravitating to the living room. There was no time to

make it to the bedroom. There was no patience to

find the nearest bed.

There was no way she could have navigated the

stairs. There wasn’t a chance in hell she wanted to

hold back to make it up the hall.

She wanted him now, just as quickly as possible,

and she wanted all of him.

Nothing mattered now but the blazing, agonizing

need consuming her, tearing through her. It was like

being forced on a wild, rapidly spinning merry-goround

that refused to stop. Her senses were spinning

with each touch, with each lash of sensation whipping

through her.

As she was backed into the living room the fiery,

biting kisses that ate so hungrily at her lips moved to

her neck. His hands went to the snap and zipper of

her jeans as the need for flesh on flesh whipped

through her senses.

She was pulling at his shirt, one hand beneath it

to feel the warmth of his skin, touching his flesh, the

other jerking at the loosened edges and fighting to

push the material over his shoulders.

Desperate hands, hers and his, tore at metal

tabs, at zippers at buttons moored to fragile cloth.

Their clothes and her boots were jerked off, cast

aside, leaving them blissfully naked. Their hands

hungry for bare skin stroked and caressed as Rafe

tugged her to the heavy, thick rug before the warmth

of the blazing fire.

As they went to their knees, Cami became the

aggressor.

She remembered that first night, five years

before, much too well. Remembered each sensation

of controlling the heavily engorged flesh of his

erection, working it inside her and crying out at the

pleasure. Moving over him, her thighs had straddled

his hips, the sensation of controlling his hunger had

made her drunk on the pleasure.

She had controlled each thrust. She had

controlled each sensation, and the power had been

heady. The remembered ecstasy, the sheer rapture

found at the end of that wild, impulsive ride was too

much to resist.

“Let me,” she whispered desperately as he

moved to force her back to the rug. “Let me ride you

Rafer. Let me have it again. Oh God, I might die if I

don’t have it again.”

If she didn’t have the pleasure and exquisite

sensation of controlling a wild sexual beast as she

moved above him.

Her hands pushed at his shoulders, her lips

moving to his chest, to the flat, hard male nipples. His

hands dug into her hair as her teeth scraped the tips,

rasping over them, licking them as the salty male

taste intoxicated her senses.

Reclining on the rug as she pressed him down,

Cami followed, a wild, feral need flowing through her.

It pounded in her veins, clenched her pussy, and

rippled through her womb.

Staring down at him, watching the corded

strength rippling through her body, Cami felt a moan

rising inside her chest. The wicked sensuality

gleamed in the intense blue of his eyes as his hand

lowered. His fingers curled around the heavy width of

his cock.

Long, powerful fingers began a slow, deliberately

teasing rhythm along the thick shaft.

“Take it, Cami,” he dared her, his hand stroking

up the length of his cock, squeezing the wide,

engorged crest as it throbbed imperatively. “Come

on, baby, show me how bad you want to fuck me, or

do you just want to talk about it?”

It was a dare that hadn’t been required. A

challenge she had intended to meet whether it was

issued or not.

“You talk about it,” she ordered, feeling powerfully

erotic, sensual. “Come, Rafer, tell me what you want.

Tell me if you’re enjoying it.”

Swinging her leg over his thighs as he reached

down to grip the shaft of his cock, Cami swore she

could hear a sob echoing around her.

Her sob.

It was a sound rife with a need that went far

beyond the lust she had promised herself she would

stop. It sliced straight through her senses, and she

swore she could feel the pleasure straight to her soul.

“Ah yes, Cami-girl,” he groaned. “Take it. Show

me how much you want my dick.”

Sensation ricocheted through her senses as the

blunt, widened crest of his cock slid through the thick,

heavy juices coating her cunt. The heated, blunt crest

grazed the hard, nerve-laden bud of her clit, circled it,

then slid back down to tuck against the clenched

entrance of her pussy.

She hadn’t had sex since the night he had given

her a child.

She had tried, God knew she had tried, to

replace his memory with another man. She had

dated; she had even gotten close. A few times, she

had even enjoyed the kisses and the touch of several

of those men. But it had simply been enjoyment.

There had been nothing wild, nothing that even came

close to the pleasure she’d found with Rafer. No other

man had ever tempted her to rush her heart and her

sanity as he did.

Rolling her hips, she felt the crest parting her

entrance further, already beginning that slow,

pleasure-pain-edged sensation that left her feeling

drugged, high on building ecstasy.

Rafer gripped her hips with one hand as he

paused, waiting, his gaze narrowed as he watched

her.

The world seemed suspended, poised on this

moment as she stared down at him. The thick head of

his cock just barely breaching at the entrance to her

sex. Almost penetrating her, heating her, making her

so hungry for him, so desperate to fuck him that her

fingers curled against his chest into fists as she fought

to hold back.

She trembled.

Shuddered.

“Rafer,” she whispered his name, wishing she

could convince herself it was a dream. That she could

live the dream, awaken when morning came with no

more repercussions than a dream would bring. “Don’t

let it end,” she begged, still poised above him and

taking only the very tip of the throbbing flesh.

“I have you, love,” he promised, the guttural, raw

sound of his voice whispering across her senses. “Let

it last, Cami. Don’t rush it, baby; ease into it all you

want.”She didn’t want ease. She wanted it all. The

powerful burn, the agonizing pleasure. But there was

no way to let that last. No way to make that heat last

forever.

“I need you,” she sighed, her lashes fluttering as

her hips shifted, pressing down, taking him at the first

sensation of heavy pressure parting the clenched

entrance. “Oh God, Rafer, how I’ve needed you.”

Was that her voice, so ragged and filled with

aching hunger as she began to roll her hips? As she

worked the engorged head past the snug, narrow