STRICTLY BY THE BOOK
Again. Kiss him again.
Natalie obeyed her soul’s demand. She sipped from Rafe's lips like a connoisseur with a fine wine. He stood stock still, and she would have retreated if his mouth hadn't clung to hers when she pulled a hair's breadth away, his head dipping to keep their connection.
Her hands slid from his chest to the back of his neck, bringing their bodies closer. Standing on tiptoe, she thanked yoga for the strength in her ankles. She'd never be able to reach his mouth otherwise.
His dark chocolate, deliciously bitter mouth.
Hesitant pressure on her hips presaged the warmth of his palms. She licked the seam of his lips in wordless encouragement, purring low in her throat. This time she'd make sure he knew she approved of his touch, craved it. If he pulled away as he had before dinner when he had held her face, or when his arm had snaked around her waist for an instant while they'd talked to Otto, she might scream.
His grip on her hips tightened and suddenly she was sitting on the counter.
“Is that better?” He whispered the words against her mouth, then trailed a heated path to the skin behind her ear.
In answer, she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them at the small of his back and tugging him tight to her centre. The hard bulge of his erection pressed her core and she gasped, letting her head fall back. “Much better.”
Dizzy from the sensations sparked by his lips and teeth on her neck, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and simply held on. He made his way from one collarbone to the other, nuzzling the fabric of her blouse out of his way, his crisp, silky hair caressing the underside of her chin. His scent filled her nostrils, woodsy and clean and fresh. Heat coiled low in her belly and she clenched her thighs on his hips, desperate to get closer.
His mouth found hers again as he leaned over, pressing her back to the solid surface. The quartz counter was cool under her, Rafe's chest hot and firm above. Her breasts swelled and tingled, squashed delightfully by his weight. His tongue demanded entrance and she opened willingly. If it was possible to get drunk by kissing someone, she never wanted to be sober.
Natalie obeyed her soul’s demand. She sipped from Rafe's lips like a connoisseur with a fine wine. He stood stock still, and she would have retreated if his mouth hadn't clung to hers when she pulled a hair's breadth away, his head dipping to keep their connection.
Her hands slid from his chest to the back of his neck, bringing their bodies closer. Standing on tiptoe, she thanked yoga for the strength in her ankles. She'd never be able to reach his mouth otherwise.
His dark chocolate, deliciously bitter mouth.
Hesitant pressure on her hips presaged the warmth of his palms. She licked the seam of his lips in wordless encouragement, purring low in her throat. This time she'd make sure he knew she approved of his touch, craved it. If he pulled away as he had before dinner when he had held her face, or when his arm had snaked around her waist for an instant while they'd talked to Otto, she might scream.
His grip on her hips tightened and suddenly she was sitting on the counter.
“Is that better?” He whispered the words against her mouth, then trailed a heated path to the skin behind her ear.
In answer, she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them at the small of his back and tugging him tight to her centre. The hard bulge of his erection pressed her core and she gasped, letting her head fall back. “Much better.”
Dizzy from the sensations sparked by his lips and teeth on her neck, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and simply held on. He made his way from one collarbone to the other, nuzzling the fabric of her blouse out of his way, his crisp, silky hair caressing the underside of her chin. His scent filled her nostrils, woodsy and clean and fresh. Heat coiled low in her belly and she clenched her thighs on his hips, desperate to get closer.
His mouth found hers again as he leaned over, pressing her back to the solid surface. The quartz counter was cool under her, Rafe's chest hot and firm above. Her breasts swelled and tingled, squashed delightfully by his weight. His tongue demanded entrance and she opened willingly. If it was possible to get drunk by kissing someone, she never wanted to be sober.