Chapter Fifteen
Iona
Rafe sets me down, and I trot out to a building I doubt he'd noticed any of the other times he was here. Probably because we argued on those other occasions. Our only sexual encounter was in the hotel. The sauna is small---cozy, I'd say---but it has enough room for both of us with a wee bit of room to spare. We kindle the fire until it's ready to heat up the sauna on its own. Then we rush back into the house.
But Rafe halts in the middle of the living room while I continue toward the hallway.
When I realize he stopped, I spin around to stare at him.
"Stop right there, Iona. We are going to undress in the living room."
"Oh. I like that idea."
"Then get your sweet arse over here." He crooks a finger at me. "Come, pet."
I sashay over to him. "How about a few sensual delights from the kitchen first?"
"That sounds perfect."
I claim his hand, leading Rafe toward the kitchen and around the far side of the island. I don't fail to notice the fact that he can't resist admiring my erse while I move about gathering the food from the refrigerator. I enjoy the sight of his erse too. Even with trousers covering those cheeks, it's still a sight to behold. I barely got a glimpse of his erse the first time we shagged. That was Rafe's fault. He'd been so riled up that he needed to fuck me like a mad man.
Not that I minded. I loved it, in fact.
Even when he behaves like somewhat of a mad man, I don't mind. Learning about the long-term side effects of his lightning strike has given me a new perspective on Rafe Knight.
He leans against the island, now admiring my breasts, thanks to the plunging neckline of my blouse.
I lean over a wee bit more than necessary as I drop a collection of clear plastic boxes on the island and begin popping them open one by one. "Here we go. I had put these in the freezer until I was ready to eat them, but I thawed them out overnight. So, all I need to do is heat them in the microwave."
"Just the thought of shagging you in the sauna makes me hot enough that I'm quite sure I could heat up these dishes just by blowing on them from afar."
I can't stop the girlish giggle that bubbles out of me. "Thank you for the compliment, but I doubt your breath meets the safety standards for reheating food."
"What safety standards? No one informed me Loch Fairbairn was that strict about meals reheated at home."
I slide all the dishes onto one plate and set it in the microwave. Rafe watches with curiosity as I punch buttons, getting it wrong several times before I manage to hit the right length for heating up our snacks.
Rafe chuckles.
And I plant my hands on my hips. "What is so amusing?"
"You had to try three times before you hit the right button."
"Aye. So what? Microwaves are notoriously difficult to use."
He chuckles again and pinches my erse. "Only for Scottish women."
I pinch his erse. "Would you like to prove that claim by operating the microwave?"
"Later, perhaps."
Together, we set the table that lies at the other end of the open kitchen. Rafe teases me occasionally, and I offer saucy remarks in response. Bod an Donais , who knew setting out forks, knives, and napkins could be so erotic? I might drag Rafe down on the tabletop so I can shag him right now.
"Sit down, Rafe. I'll bring the food."
He dutifully obeys my command, but I assume he did that only because he's hungry. Rafe Knight is an alpha male through and through. I never used to like men who behaved that way, but I do now.
I set the microwave dish on the table. "Dig in. There's plenty for both of us."
"You cooked this?"
"Only in that I reheated it. I told you that already."
Rafe studies the food, and his brows wrinkle. "Looks like something lovers would enjoy, full of sensual aromas and spices and seasonings." He spears half a chicken breast and sets it on his plate. Then he inhales deeply. "Definitely sensual. Why would you make a dish like this for yourself?"
"I didn't. A friend made it."
"What mate of yours would cook a lover's meal for you? Only a man who wants to shag you, I'd say."
I sit down on my chair. "Mm, it smells as good as it did the first time."
Rafe squints at the food still inside the microwave dish. "Why are there two unfinished segments of chicken? There should be one whole breast and one half-eaten, since you cooked this only for yourself."
I slap my fork down on the table. "Stop interrogating me, Rafe."
"Perhaps I will if you tell me who ate this meal with you. One of your brothers?"
"No." Why shouldn't I tell him? It's none of his business, but I have no reason to avoid answering his question. "Eric Taylor cooked this food for me."
Rafe stiffens, his spine snapping ramrod straight. Through clenched teeth he hisses, "Eric Taylor was in your home?"
"He's a friend. Dinnae need to explain myself to you. If I want to have dinner with Eric, that's none of your concern." I stab my fork into my chicken and rip a piece off it. "Eric wanted to make a nice meal for me. He's a sweet laddie."
"Who wants to fuck you."
"Aye." I slant toward him. "So do you."
"That's different. I'm a man, he's a pup." Rafe glares at me. "You've been shagging him, haven't you?"
" Mhac na galla ." I leap up, causing my chair to tumble over backward. "I've been very understanding of your temper because I know why you have trouble controlling it. But this jealousy...It's intolerable. You have no right to accuse me of sleeping with Eric. I told you I am not doing that. Believe me or don't, it's up to you."
For a moment or two, we stare at each other without speaking or moving. Maybe I should have expected this reaction from Rafe, but I had no idea he would deduce that someone else cooked this meal. Why couldn't Rafe just accept what I told him? I suppose it was sort of a lie. I shouldn't have hidden the truth about the food and who crafted it.
Bloody hell . I'm as stubborn as Rafe.
So, I try for reconciliation. "Let's both calm down and try to work things out together. I should have told you Eric had visited me the other night, since you and I have become closer. But you shouldn't have accused me of sleeping with Eric."
Rafe slumps in his chair. "Yes, you're right. I apologize."
"And I apologize too." I walk round to Rafe's side of the table and settle my erse on his lap. "I would love to reconcile with you in the sauna."
"Might as well finish our dinner first." He winces. "Even if Eric Taylor did cook it for you."
"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"
"Positive."
I brush my thumb across his lips. "The first time I ate these dishes, I devoured them so quickly that my tummy got a wee bit upset afterward. I wanted to get it over with so Eric would leave."
"Hmm. You definitely aren't enamored of him, then." Rafe sits up straighter and grabs his fork, spearing a chunk of chicken. Then he holds it near my mouth. "Ladies first."
I close my lips around the soft flesh, chewing in a leisurely manner, savoring every nuance as the flavors infiltrate my senses. My eyes drift half-closed. I had tasted these exact dishes when Eric made dinner for me, but I swear that today the food seems more succulent and richer than ever before. Warmth sifts through me amid a sensual tingling sensation that dives deep inside me, making me wet.
"This food makes you randy," Rafe says. "I'll need to get the recipe from Eric, even if I have to beat it out of him."
"It isn't the food making me feel this way. It's you." His cock is growing stiffer and thicker by the second. So, I slide a hand down to his groin and gently massage it through his trousers, making Rafe suck in a sharp breath. "Cannae deny ye like this, aye?"
His eyelids flutter, almost as if he might shut them. His head tips backward a wee bit too. "I know you never slept with Eric. But I can't blame him for wanting you so much that he'll go to extreme lengths. You are stunningly beautiful and sexy as hell."
"No other man has ever described me that way, not even my unwanted suitor." To see the evidence of his lust for me so clearly, it arouses me to an almost painful level. Pleasurable pain. "Please, Rafe, make love to me."
He groans deeply as I stroke his length. Even through his trousers, he can clearly feel everything I'm doing. "Fuck, Iona. If you keep teasing me, this will be a replay of our first shag---hot, hard, and insane. You know I have trouble controlling my passions."
"Dinnae want ye to hold back. Unleash all your passions."
"In that case..." He grasps my shirt between my breasts and rips it open. Buttons tumble to the floor. "I'll buy you a new blouse."
"Stop talking, start fucking."
He chuckles, then his gaze drops to my chest. His lips curve into a steamy smile. "Thank you, pet."
"For what?"
"Wearing a bra that closes in front." He plucks the clasps free one by one, all the while cupping my erse with the other hand. "Don't move unless I tell you to. I need to undress you, pet, with my fingers and my teeth and any other part of my body that will work."
A delicious wee shiver rushes through me. Rafe is by far the most erotic lover I've ever had. And I know this time, we'll rock the house---literally. I hope we don't frighten Raghnall's cows.
Rafe pushes my blouse off over my shoulders and tosses it all the way across the room. He repeats the process with my bra, which lands on top of the kitchen island. I sit here, immobilized by everything he does, fascinated by the wild hunger on his face. When I finally manage to get my muscles to respond, I reach for his shirt, determined to rip it open.
But he clasps my wrist to stop me. "No, no, no, pet. You'll get what you want eventually, but not now."
"What I want is you inside me, and I cannae wait."
"You will." He tugs my naked torso against his chest. "I love how desperately you want me."
He lowers his head until it's nestled between my tits. Then he drags his tongue up my chest, snaking it out now and then to flick the tip over my skin. I shudder every time he does that. When he gets to my throat, he gives up licking and rakes his lips upward until they meet my chin.
"Oh, God, Rafe, hurry up. I've never been this aroused in my entire life. Fair certain I'll go insane in the next ten seconds."
He lifts his head, but only to smirk and wink. "Perfect."
Rafe stands up with me still in his arms.
Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his hips, and he winks again. The bod ceann is enjoying the chance to torment me, and I won't deny I love every second of it.
He keeps hold of me with one arm, then uses the other to swipe everything off the table, from the silverware to the food. He's making a bloody mess, and still, I dinnae care. He can wreck my house as long as he makes me come so hard that I scream.
The man I desperately need to fuck me disentangles my legs from around his hips and takes hold of my jeans. Fortunately, I prefer the sort that has an elastic waistband so I can slip them on and off easily. When Rafe notices that fact, he grins like the devil himself and yanks the jeans down to my ankles.
Rafe tosses them past my head, and I hear a slap that must be my jeans hitting the glass doors. "Glad you're barefoot, pet. I won't need to waste time on removing your shoes."
The only sound I can make is a whimper.
He grasps my knees and shoves them apart. "Time to devour you, love."