Rafe's Redemption (22 page)

Taking her breasts in his hands, he tested their heavy weight, strummed the tips with his thumbs until they puckered again, then he pinched each nipple, tugging until they elongated, rosy and ready to be sucked.

She groaned and closed her eyes.

He brushed her soft mouth with his thumb, parted her lips and thrust inside, filling her with slow, languid stokes, the same way he ached to fill her pussy with his cock.

“I need to touch you, sweetheart. Everywhere,” he breathed. “I want you naked.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But you, too. You agreed.” He tore his britches off his legs, and then grabbed her full hips and spread her out on the bed, open, glistening. Ready.

Desire hit him like a cannon ball. He couldn’t get enough air in his lungs as he looked down at the beauty before him. Lust pounded through his body. His cock throbbed, ached to feel her wet heat. But only after he tasted her.

He knelt on the floor, let his hands wander up her bare legs to the dark curls hiding part of her from his view. Taking a deep breath he leaned over her and flicked his tongue over her pink clit. She whimpered. But he wanted her to scream, cry out his name. Only then would he ease into her body.

“Open your eyes.” He caressed her stomach. “Watch.” He lowered his head, licking a slow path from her belly to her pussy, swiping the nectar from her feminine lips to her ass, sucking her clit, but never stopping in any one spot long enough to satisfy.

“Rafe.” His name was a moan. “Please.” She clutched his head and pulled him to her.

“Please what?” He traced her mouth with his tongue, let her taste her own arousal.

She thrashed her head back and forth, tangling her dark hair over the pillow. “I don’t know. Just…please.

Please.”

He chuckled, then dipped his head and greedily sucked a nipple into his mouth. She twisted beneath him, her ragged breath mixed with moans of pleasure.

“Please…end this ache. I’m begging you.” Only then did he move down her body, leaving a moist trail over her stomach. But torturously he skipped her mound and laved each pale leg, nipping the soft skin of her thighs.

Her scent made him hungry. God, how he wanted her. He was going to lose control soon. Her cunt glistened and he lazily trailed a finger down her slick center, watching her face for reaction as he slipped one digit inside, then it pulled out and licked the musky juice, savoring her flavor.

She arched on the bed, her eyes heavy and unfocused, her hair wild around her face.

He parted her silky folds with his fingers and lowered his head, blowing on the wet flesh. “I told you to watch.” He peered over her damp curls.

Heavy lidded blue eyes blinked, once, twice, then focused on him. “Watch what?”

“Watch me make you come.”

Maggie’s heart thundered in her ears as his words soaked into her desire clouded mind. Come. Was that what he’d done to her in the tub? Whatever it meant, it sounded naughty. A nd delicious.

The sight of his dark head between her thighs made her breathless, her dream come true. God, God, God. If he stopped, she’d kill him.

He lifted his head, his gray eyes dark and hooded with desire. Then, grinning like a rascal, he licked her again, a long slow slip of his tongue.

Her body convulsed under the heat of his mouth, and she bucked against his hold.

Her breath left with a whoosh. The world narrowed to nothing but his mouth. Heat streaked through her body. His fingers stroked her thighs, moving to tease her tender folds as he worked the sensitive button hidden beneath her curls with his thumb, and probed deep inside her cunny with his fingers.

Breathing was impossible. The intense pleasure painful. Wonderful.

She fisted the blankets in her hands. “Rafe…Rafe.” He had to do more, more something, more anything. She had to—

Oh, God! Gratification streaked through like lightning, a hot rush of liquid, a shower of sparks that set fire to her pussy. “Oh. Oh, yes. Yes!” She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Lazy, delicious waves of pleasure floated her from heaven to the straw mattress. Her core pulsed with delight, her toes still curled in bliss. Her limbs numb. Just numb. A nd she didn’t care. The only thing worth feeling was Rafe’s mouth as he pressed slow kisses to the top of her thighs.

She opened her eyes as he crawled over her, kissing his way up her sweat-soaked body.

“God, you taste so good,” he mumbled, sampling the fleshy part of her stomach.

His strong hands reached her breasts, cupping the fullness, rolling the tips between his fingers. The pressure wiped away any trace of lethargy, made her ache all over again. He continued his upward journey until he circled her pebbled nipples with his tongue, the wet heat cranking her desire tighter, tighter.

“I wish I could take more time,” he gasped, “but I can’t.” His gaze scoured, scorched. “I need to be inside you.”

His words made her twist on the sheet, the image of his cock sliding into her made her moan. Finally she’d have all the answers to her questions.

She cupped his face in her palms and pulled him to her for a long kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, imitating what he’d done to her cunny. The taste of her own sex made her heart beat faster. It was so seductive, like heady wine.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.” Gently he draped them over his hips, then made himself comfortable in the cradle he’d created. “I swear I’ll be as gentle as possible,” he said gravely.

She smiled. It couldn’t be as bad as he made it sound. “I know.”

He must have mistook her answer for ignorance. A frown creased his brow. “Nettie told you the first time will hurt, didn’t she?”

Maggie nodded and traced his grim mouth with her fingertip. “A re you going to make love to me or talk?” Rafe blinked once, twice, then grinned. She squirmed beneath him, eliciting a deep rumble in his chest. His gaze scorched her when captured her lips. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth the same time he pressed inside her heat. She gasped as the blunt tip gained entry.

“Ready?” he asked, but didn’t give her time to answer. He kissed her hard, then thrust his shaft deep.

She forgot to breathe. Hot, searing pain tore through her. She blinked back tears, refusing to cry out.

“A re you all right?” Rafe whispered. He didn’t move.

He barely breathed.

Maggie inhaled, let his masculine scent and the smell of lovemaking relax her. “Yes.” She wiggled her hips to accommodate his girth, stretching her, claiming her. “I just feel very…full.” So full. Like trying to wear too-small stockings. Except legs had nothing to do with this.

He grinned like the devil. A pparently that was something a man liked to hear. “Can I move?” His voice was ragged, the words pleaded.

She wrapped her arms around him and held tight. “I wish you would. I want to know what the rest feels like.”

“Damned sassy-mouthed woman.” The compliment whispered over her skin as he kissed her, his cock moving in time with his tongue, long, slow strokes.

Blindly his hands found hers and stretched them above her head. His rough palms slid over hers until their hands were clasped, their fingers entwined. A tremor ran through his body as his pace increased.

“God, Maggie,” he groaned as he buried his face in her neck. “So damn good.”

Sweat coated their bodies, the sheet sticking to her back, tangling their legs. He lifted her legs, rested them higher on his waist, then gripped her bottom and tilted her hips so that each thrust sent a streak of pleasure screaming through her. It shouldn’t be possible to feel need again, but a fiery ache demanded satisfaction.

“More. I need more,” she begged.

He made room for his hand in the middle of their bodies. His fingers slipped through her wet curls and stroked the same rhythm as his hips. She gasped. He was going to kill her. The pleasure was too much, and yet she only needed a little bit more to find the ecstasy she’d had before…So close, so close, just a little more and…She’d be there…

Spasms racked her body. Wonderful, earth shattering spasms.

Shifting his weight, he lifted his upper body and set a pounding rhythm.

His sudden hoarse cry ripped through the cabin, a strangled growl of pure pleasure that died to a satisfied moan as he fell onto her body, his hot cum flooding her cunny in long spurts, warming her from the inside out.

Their hearts thundered against each other, his rough breathing fanned the hair at her temple, his ragged breath in her ear.

He shuddered as she ran her palms down his slick back, then rolled to his back and fit her against his side, preserving their heat, their closeness, but she missed the ultimate closeness, being full of his cock. His callused hands trailed over her shoulder, down her arm, pulling her closer until she lay almost atop him.

The soft sounds of the fire crackling filled the silent room. Maggie chewed her lip, sure there was something experienced woman said to their lovers after such an…

encounter. But nothing sophisticated came to mind, and can we do that again seemed wanton.

“A re you sorry?” he whispered.

“No. Never.” She peeked at him. “A re you?”

“No. I’m glad you’re here with me.” He nuzzled his chin across the top of her head.

“You didn’t want me here at first,” she teased.

“I wanted you too much. That was the problem.” That didn’t make any sense. “What do you mean?” He blew a long breath. “You make me feel again. I’d spent over a year trying not to feel anything. Until I saw you, I believed I’d forgotten how.”

His hoarse words broke her heart. He sounded so sad, as if all the loneliness she sensed the first time she walked into this house crept into his voice. Climbing over his body, she cupped his cheek, brushed his soft whiskers. His gaze never wavered, but she suspected it was his pride that kept him from looking away.

“I know you never intended to be saddled with me, but I’m not sorry I’m here.” She pressed her lips to his.

“I’ve never known a better man. I’ve said that before but…”

His agonized expression stole her words. What had she said?

He pushed her from his body and rolled to his side, leaving her cold. “I’m not a good man.”

“I think you are.”

“You don’t know my past.”

She shook her head and smoothed her hand over his bare back. “It can’t be so bad.”

A bitter laugh twisted her heart. “Really?” His voice was muffled by the pillow. “What if I told you I killed a man?”

“In the war, you mean?” Everything Tom has said flashed through her mind.

Rafe shrugged away from her touch and moved to the edge of the bed, hunched over like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders. “Yes. But afterward. A fter Lee conceded in A ppomattox. I didn’t want to tell you, but now.” He shook his head and stood. “I can’t stand you calling me a good man. Not after what I’ve done.” Shuffling to the hearth, he pulled the rocker close to the fire and sat staring into the flames, shutting her out.

A voiding her.

Sudden anger sparked inside her, catching like dry kindling. He was not going to do this again. Not this time. Not ever again.

She snatched both shirts from the floor, using hers to clean his seed from her thighs, dropping his over her head before walking to the chair. Without asking permission, she climbed onto his lap, like a child wanting to be rocked. He stiffened, but she wound her arms around his neck and burrowed her head onto his shoulder. If he wanted away from her, he’d have to throw her from his lap.

Endless seconds passed and neither spoke. She waited, would wait all night if that’s what it took for them to breach this impasse. Finally his hand slid over her hip, his arms encircled her waist, and his fingers tangled in her hair. He caught a strand around his finger, curling, uncurling until she thought he’d forgot why they sat as they did.

She pressed a kiss to his neck. “Tell me the rest,” she whispered.

“What rest?”

“You wouldn’t kill anyone without a very good reason.”

He shook his head. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be tonight.” She captured his jaw and pressed an easy kiss to his lips. “Tell me.

Trust me.”

He swallowed hard, his throat convulsing several times before he spoke.

“Mother said my father died before I was born. When I was six, she remarried. The day of their wedding, my new stepfather pulled me aside and made it clear he didn’t consider me good enough to be his son, or…good enough to take his name.”

Maggie held her breath. Rafe was going to say something terrible, something so bad it could destroy them both. She could feel it. Feel it hovering over them like a disease. Like death.

Unshed tears mixed with agony in his eyes. “A sk my stepfather’s name, Maggie.”

She shook her head, not wanting to know. A fraid she already knew.

“Seymour Pierson.” Rafe whispered the words, but they roared through her like a tornado.

Pierson. Pierson. The name…Christ. Pierson was the last name of the man Major Douglas taunted Rafe about.

“Then Simon…”

“Is his son.”

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut against the pain.

“A nd the other man, the one you…” She wouldn’t, couldn’t phrase it like that. It was as good as crucifying Rafe. “The dead man was your…”