Chapter 20
Rafe crawled over her, his hands rising to the neckline of her bodice, which he ripped in half as easily as one might have torn a piece of bread in two.
“There ye are,” he panted, dropping to his forearms and nuzzling his face against her breasts, licking and sucking his way to a pink nipple before sucking it roughly into his mouth.
With a gasp, Briar was arching off the bed, thrusting her aching peak further into his hungry, warm, wonderful mouth.
“Fuck,” she heard Robbie say from the other side of the door.
“Fuck,” she whispered to the empty room, her breath coming in short bursts.
Before she could stop herself, she had slid off the bed, collapsing to the floor.
He knocked, frantic. “Nadja! Nadja, are you okay?”
She groaned. “I’m fine. For gods’ sake, keep going.”
“Fucking hell,” she heard him mutter.
Briar felt the insistent hardness of his manhood pressing against her thigh. She’d seen the horses cover their mates in the field but had never seen a naked man like this.
Although, she supposed she still hadn’t, as Rafe was covered in both plaid and linen still.
Feeling bolder than she would have imagined possible, she reached down, exploring beneath the heavy pleats of fabric until her fingertips brushed against something warm and hard. It was soft, like velvet wrapped around a steel rod.
Nadja crawled across the bedroom, her vision going spotty as she moved, but she was so close. She didn’t know how he knew, she wasn’t certain that he did know, but she suspected that he might, given this turn of events.
She propped herself against the door, imagining that she could feel his warmth through the wood.
She didn’t have to imagine the sounds though, the rustle as he turned a page one-handed, the other busy stroking his cock. She could hear the muffled shuffling, and her mouth watered. She wondered what it looked like. She wondered what he looked like.
“You with me, Nadja?” Robbie asked roughly.
“Yes,” she said, her voice a mere breath.
“Touch yourself,” he said, his voice a command.
Her hand was beneath her shorts in an instant.
“It won’t fit, Rafe,” Briar said, her voice trembling from fear and wonder.
“Och, aye. It will, mo cridhe. I promise ye it will fit. Ye were made for it. Ye were made for me.”
“Are you touching yourself, Doc?” Robbie asked, followed by a soft grunt.
She whined, the sound keening and high., her fingers rubbing roughly against her clit.
“That’s my girl. Don’t stop.”
Rafe rose to his knees and undid the leather of his belt with rough yanks against the leather. He reached behind his head and fairly ripped his shirt off before tossing drawing the heavy lengths of his plaid up around them.
“Under my plaid,” Rafe whispered in Briar’s ear. “Under my plaid, under the protection of my body. Ye’re mine now.”
She nodded, drawing him closer, and he followed her down. Notching his organ at the very heart of her.
“There will be pain,” he said, kissing her roughly. “But it will be chased by so much pleasure. Do ye trust me?”
She nodded. She did trust him.
With a groan, he pressed the thick head of his sex into her clasping, clenching heat. She held her breath, waiting for him to continue, but he held still, allowing her to adjust to the fullness. Then, with the suddenness of an adder strike, he thrust his full length into her. He—
“Oh, fuck,” Robbie said, and Nadja heard the soft thud of a paperback hitting the floor.
Robbie groaned again and her fingers moved faster and faster as she sucked down breath after breath of his sweetness, feeding for the first time in weeks, feeding like this for the first time in longer than she could remember.
His hand was moving faster now, she could hear it. He was approaching the end. With a long, low groan, he came. Or she imagined he did, and the thought of it sent her own climax crashing over her, wave after wave of sensation rocking her off her axis.
Feeling stronger, even if just for a moment, Nadja stood and unlocked the door.
Her fingers froze over the knob. She wanted to open that door with a ferocity that shook her, to watch him holding his spent cock in hand, the mess coating his knuckles.
With a trembling hand, she turned the knob and pulled the door open quickly, before she lost her nerve.
Robbie stood on the other side, naked, sweat streaming down his lean body. He had the body of a fighter, sinewy and long, but strong as well. He’d been running.
He’d run to her.
His chest rose and fell rapidly with his heaving breaths, and they stared at each other for a long moment.
He reached out and pulled her shirt over her head, using it to wipe his release from his hand.
She stood in baggy sleep shorts and a bralette, trembling, watching, wondering if she should feel offended by the fact that he’d stripped her shirt off of her body to use as a rag.
But she wasn’t.
She felt alive for the first time in a long time.
And then he reached out and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips. She should have pulled away, but she didn’t, her breath catching in her throat as he sucked her fingers into his mouth, cleaning all of her release with his tongue.
He drew her fingers from his mouth with a pop and released her hand, which fell limp to her side like it weighed a ton.
“I don’t want you going hungry anymore,” he said and, before she could protest, disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door.