Like he could read her mind Rafe unbuckled his belt and loosened the buttons at the top of his jeans. He moved as if he would lower the zipper but then he changed his mind. Giving her a wicked grin he stopped, only allowing her a peek at the black band of his boxer shorts.
“I’m not getting naked,” he whispered, “until you do.”
“No problem,” she whispered back and although her heart was dancing to a staccato beat she didn’t let on. Giving him a confident smile she raised her hands to her blouse and slowly, button by button, she began to bare herself to his gaze.
His face half hidden in shadows, his eyes glinting in the glow of the shaded lamp in the corner, she could see his gaze glued to her body. She was loving it.
Still straddling his h*ps Anya reached behind, her fingers moving to the clasp of her bra. Rafe sucked in his breath, just the reaction she was looking for. And if she needed any further confirmation that he wanted her, she got it soon enough. She’d sunk down onto him, her bottom finding a home on his groin and what she felt there left her in no doubt that her little strip tease was working. Rafe was as hard as rock. Emboldened by the knowledge that she’d turned him on Anya loosened the clasp and let the bra straps fall from her shoulders and as the strip of lacy fabric tumbled down to puddle on Rafe’s chest she straightened her shoulders and arched her back, proudly presenting her br**sts to his greedy gaze.
With a growl Rafe reached for her, pulling her down until her br**sts hung like succulent fruit over his mouth. As her nipple touched his lips he sucked it into his mouth, a groan rumbling deep inside his chest.
He released her breast and she thought it was so he could devour the other nipple but she was wrong. He gathered her close then got up, taking her with him and then, like he was no stranger to her home, he strode down the hallway. “Your bedroom,” he grunted, not pausing as he strode.
Anya’s heart leaped to her throat. It was happening. She would finally know what it felt like to make love to the best man she could ever have chosen. Because in her heart she knew that of all the men she had ever met, Rafe was the one for her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck then, raising her lips to his ear, she whispered, “It’s the next door on the right.”
When Rafe entered the room he didn’t even turn on the light. He strode to the bed and as soon as he laid her down his hand went to the buttons on her silk trousers. Within seconds they were off, leaving her in nothing but the slip of cloth, the G-string she’d dared to wear. She could tell he liked it because although the room was bathed in shadows he paused, his hands skimming over the skimpy cloth, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. From the pale moonlight stealing in through the window she could see him swallow and his nostrils flare.
Then gently, almost worshipfully, he leaned over and planted a kiss on top of that strip of fabric, his lips caressing her through the cloth.
Anya gasped and closed her eyes but he didn’t linger. Instead his fingers caught the strings tied at her h*ps and he began to pull the G-string down, slowly and seductively, inch by tortuous inch until her most precious and private place was exposed to his gaze. She didn’t move. She held her breath and closed her eyes even tighter.
When she felt Rafe slide the panties down her legs and off her feet Anya dug her fists into the bedclothes. Still, she wouldn’t open her eyes to look at him. Then she heard him pull his zipper and the soft rustle of clothes and she knew jeans, boxer shorts, socks, all his clothes were now in a pile on the floor. Rafe was as na**d as she was.
She sucked in her breath, drumming up the courage to sneak a peek. When she did it was to see a man, her man, standing there, his back to her, so tall and strong, his skin so smooth, his butt so taut that all she wanted to do was slide her palms over them.
And then she heard the crackle. He’d opened a condom packet and, his head down, she could imagine he was sheathing himself. Now he was turning to face her and before she could avert her eyes, before she could even blink, she found herself staring at his groin, at the long, stiff rod now glistening in its thin coat of latex.
Anya snapped her eyes shut again, her fingers clutching the bedclothes even tighter and this time in addition to clenching her eyes she bit down on her lower lip. She’d had enough of bravery for one night.
She felt when Rafe moved onto the bed, his weight making her tilt toward him and then he lay beside her, his hand stroking her shoulder in a feather-like caress. As if to reassure her he tickled her lips in the gentlest kiss, all the while stroking her arm then her neck then her br**sts, his hands warming her skin until her body hummed at his caress.
As she began to relax Rafe released her lips and slid his body lower till he was tickling her navel with the tip of his tongue. Under his ministration she sighed and then as the sweet sensation spread she began to purr, unable to stop the gentle groan of pleasure that escaped her throat.
But then he made her plight worse. To Anya’s horror and her pleasure Rafe left that sweet spot and slid even lower still, until his lips were skimming over her mound.
She gasped. No. He wasn’t going there. Not with his tongue. Not-
“Aah.” His tender touch drew the sound from her lips. He did go there and it felt so good.
But soon, too soon, it was over and he was sliding back up her body. And then he was over her, inserting a knee between her legs, making them spread apart. And then he was positioning himself over her. And then he was lowering his hips.
And that was when her eyes flew open and she raised trembling hands to clutch his shoulders. “Rafe,” she said, her voice an urgent whisper, “is it going to hurt?”
She was panting now, half in fright, half in anticipation, as her eyes skimmed his face.
To her dismay that face, the same one that had just reflected such passion and desire, now froze.
“Holy shit.” The words exploded from his lips even as he drew back and away from her. “What the hell are you saying?” He was up now and off her, rolling away onto the other side of the bed. Immediately he sat up, his eyes boring into her. “Anya. Speak to me. Are you telling me you’ve never done this before?”
Guilt washing over her, Anya closed her eyes, not wanting to see the disdain on his face. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she raised her hands to cover her br**sts. “It’s my first time,” she said softly then bit down on her lip, waiting for the axe to fall.
She felt when he punched the bed then she heard him groan.
“Just what I need,” he muttered. “I almost deflowered a virgin.”