Bound and Determined (16 page)

Until he reached the hilt.

“That’s why.” He paused between deep, uneven breaths. “I knew it would hurt.”

It had. But as he slid back, nearly to the point of withdrawing, then eased into her again, it hurt less. The third time, much less. By stroke number six, it was all good. She arched up to him. The sense of being full, completed, only added to Kerry’s sparking arousal.

“That’s it,” he gasped. “So hot, so unbelievably tight.” Rafe smoothed away a curl that clung to her cheek. “I’m dying to be inside you when you come. You’re heaven.”

Sweat beaded at his temples as he fitted his hands beneath her butt and tilted her up. His stroke changed, and he moved with short digs into her. The head of his penis dragged repeatedly, quickly, over that one oh-so-sensitive spot.

Lord, she was going to instantly combust. Kerry clung to his broad shoulders, kissing his neck, his jaw, as she raised her hips to his thrusts. She was going to explode into a thousand,
million pieces, and she could only hope Rafe would be there to catch her when she did.

“Oh, God. Yes.” She tossed her head from side to side. “Yes!”

He raised her desire with each smooth stroke. It built like a storm in her belly, swirling, growing, hovering on the edge of release.

The scent of sex brewed between them: sweat, straining need, female musk. Blood sizzled along her nerve endings every time he sank into her. Her throat ached from crying out. Still she clung to him, his hard bronzed shoulders, his wide back rippling with every stroke. And those silver eyes bright with hunger mesmerizing her, connecting more than their bodies, telling her as loudly as a shout how damn good she felt underneath him.

His thrusts came hard, fast now. Rafe touched the mouth of her womb each time he sank deep, shooting off sparks of pleasure so sublime, Kerry thought she’d go blind. Her body instinctively tightened around him, as if wanting to keep him inside her, and the friction pushed her perilously close to the edge.

And still Rafe’s shimmering gaze sank into her, seeing everything, persuading her with his hot stare to open herself and show him everything.

Arousal built, robbing her of breath. Lord, why had she waited so long to experience something so wonderful?

Then Rafe reached a hand between them, squeezed a thumb between her legs and dragged it across her clit again.

The sensation sent her into the stratosphere.

She cried out, feeling the thick stalk of his erection inside her as she contracted around his steel-hard length. Pleasure roared, her heartbeat drumming into her ears, along with his harsh breath as he tried to keep pace around her clasping walls.

The burst of ecstasy tapered off slowly. When she finally regained some sanity and a breath, Kerry pried open her eyes and peered at Rafe. Sweat rolled off his brow as he clenched his teeth, muttering choice words under his breath.

“Rafe, you didn’t come?”

“Not yet. Not time.”

Replete, satiated, Kerry shook her head. “I don’t think I can take more now.”

In response, he bent his head and dragged his velvet wet tongue across one nipple, then the other. They beaded to life again instantly. They stood at rigid attention when he tweaked them again.

“You can,” he vowed between strained breaths. “You will.”

She shook her head.

Then he began to barrage her with slow, intense strokes. Deep thrusts that proved how sensitive her tissues still were, how easily he could reawaken her desire.

He sank down, down into her body, each plunge of his cock inside her turning up the heat of the sweet, urgent need reemerging inside her. She felt her body clasping at him, clutching him as if she never wanted to let go. Fire licked her clit, fueled by that insistent thumb of his.

Suddenly the impossible was not only probable but imminent as sensation skyrocketed, spurred on by his insistent gaze. His unyielding stare encouraged her to take more, give more, even as his body demanded it.

Orgasm hammered her with pleasure again as she exploded, contracting around him with twice the force. A wave of dizziness flattened her, amazed her with the potency of her climax. Above her, Rafe gritted his teeth between fast, pounding strokes. He swelled inside her, stiffened, and let go of his control. Kerry heard her own cry, loud and hoarse, now mingled with his.

Breathing hard, Kerry lay back against the bed and closed her eyes, feeling the out-of-control beat of her heart slowly return to normal. A part of her wondered if the rest of her would ever be normal again.

Rafe lay over her, cocooning her head between his elbows. Beyond satisfaction, the seductive feeling of being safe and protected remained, quietly growing in strength.

They exhaled as one.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Nerves assailed her suddenly. Gee, it was a little late to be worried and anxious. The deed was done. That realization didn’t stop the butterflies from kicking
the walls of her stomach like contestants at one of Mark’s martial arts tournaments. What did Rafe think? What would he say?

When she met his gaze, the nerves disappeared. His gaze burned molten with knowledge and satisfaction and promise. Despite the perspiration dampening his sideburns and the rumpled state of his hair, he looked amazing to her. Her heart tripped at the tenderness on his face.

Down, girl!
Rafe was a fantasy. Not Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now. She had to keep her heart out of this agreement. He would leave soon, probably no later than Wednesday. Their bargain would end even sooner. Getting tied up in the guy was just stupid, stupid, stupid.

And something she couldn’t afford.

“Amazing,” he whispered. He brushed her mouth with a soft kiss.

With that soft word, Kerry felt her heart trip again.

O
h. My. God.

Thoughts spun in Rafe’s brain. Unfortunately, that was one of the few functional parts of him at the moment. His legs? Not a chance.

Again, Kerry staggered him. Yes, she’d been incredibly tight—but he’d been expecting that. Predictably, her body had enclosed him, clasping with a wet suction he’d damn near felt to his toes and curdled his mind against everything except the moment he could get inside her again. She’d blown him away with her enthusiastic acceptance and boisterous participation, and the incredible trust she had placed in his hands. Her uptilted green eyes were a window to her every thought, every reaction. She concealed nothing, offered everything. He’d never known anything like it. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise him to learn he’d been more nervous than her. Because from where he lay—standing was still out of the question—she seemed a lot braver than he’d imagined possible.

“Wow,” she breathed. “No wonder people write songs and books about sex.” She slanted him a dimpled smile from a face flushed with latent passion. “This makes me question Oprah and her first book club selections. Who would choose
to read that depressing stuff? Maybe she needs to talk to Stedman about what he’s doing wrong in the bedroom.”

Rafe laughed. How had she gone from orgasms to Oprah in one thought? Only Kerry . . .

“You’re a crazy woman.”

“Oh?” She arched a brow. “You’re the one still lying on top of me . . . and growing harder by the moment if I’m not mistaken. What does that say about you?”

“That I’m the village idiot, no doubt.”

Victory shone in her satisfied smile. “I love to hear a man admit his faults. I wish you could teach that skill to my brother.” Suddenly, the light dimmed in her eyes. “But you won’t be here that long.”

“No, I won’t.”

Kerry’s deflated expression warned Rafe that things between them would get tangled if he wasn’t careful. Encouraging her wasn’t smart. They were here to fuck and help her brother, and these short hours together weren’t reality. They both had lives—over a thousand miles apart. Besides, he sucked at relationships. Why bother? Good times, good sex, an easy parting; that was his speed.

That didn’t mean, however, he wanted Kerry to regret what they had just done. Or to have done it only to bail her brother out of trouble.

“I’m, um, going to grab a quick shower. Can you let me up?”

Her withdrawal was nearly palpable. She focused on a spot on the ceiling, just over his shoulder. Still braced on top of her, Rafe found himself reluctant to let Kerry go. But doing so was the only smart move.

Slowly, he rolled away and watched as she grabbed her discarded towel, wrapped it around her gorgeous curves, and disappeared into the bathroom. If she’d slammed the door, that would have given him some indication of her mood, but no. Tears, anger, and blame he’d halfway expected. Only a quiet click heralded her exit.

He frowned. Maybe she wasn’t pissed or regretful—just a little replete. That he could handle.

With a grimace, he pulled off the condom. Traces of blood reddened the latex. With a frown, he deposited it in the nearby trash can. Though he’d come like a geyser and he couldn’t
deny concern for Kerry, Rafe’s cock stood hard as granite again. All it had taken was a glimpse of Kerry’s bare thigh and shoulders, still rosy in the aftermath of passion, and he was ready for more.

Well, they’d agreed to forty-eight hours of unrestrained sex. They’d just proven their encounters would be completely mind-blowing. Hell, try beyond his comprehension. Reality could come later—much later. The only thing he wanted coming now was Kerry, followed closely by himself.

With a smile, he stood on shaky legs. He wandered to the nightstand and grabbed a fresh condom, then hesitated. Imagining Kerry naked and against a wall in a steam-filled shower made his cock jerk and rise even harder against his belly. He grabbed a second condom, just in case.

Whistling a cheerful tune, he made his way down the hall. He grabbed the doorknob and turned.

It was locked.

What was up with that? The blood on his condom sparked a memory. Was she hurt, by chance? Or more upset than he’d thought?

“Kerry?”

No response.

He knocked. “Okay in there?”

Nothing. Shit. What if she was crying, or God forbid, seriously bleeding? He knew more about origami than virgins, and that wasn’t saying much. Maybe he’d hurt her somehow.

Again, he banged on the door. “Kerry?”

Still nothing.

Quickly, he retrieved a wire hanger from the closet and twisted it up with a curse. Seconds after applying it to the lock, the catch gave way. His anxiety stayed firmly in place as he shoved the door open . . . only to find Kerry gloriously naked in the huge, glass-enclosed shower. The hot, dual-headed spray of water kissed her body, front and back. Would he love to set one of those sprays right on her honey spot and watch her throw her head back and gasp as her pleasure spiked . . . He set the condoms on the bathroom counter and closed the door.

“How did you get in here?” Her voice held a startled note as she turned away.

Rafe tossed the mangled hanger onto the floor, opened the shower, and stepped inside.

“Picked the lock. You’re okay?” he asked as warm water hammered tense muscles.

“Yes.”

The word itself implied
fine
. The tone . . . slightly arctic. Relief and confusion tumbled over one another. She was okay but locking doors against him? And why would she be mad? No wonder he was bad at relationships; women were so confusing. Why didn’t they come with manuals or a help file he could access by pressing F1?

“ ‘Yes’? That’s it?” He glared at her in question.

“I just wanted a few minutes alone to think.”

“Why the locked door? You can’t think unless you’ve got a deadbolt between us?”

“P-R-I-V-A-C-Y. Or didn’t they teach you to spell at St. Bovine’s Academy for the Insanely Overprivileged?”

Despite his irritation and concern, he couldn’t hold in a laugh. “St. Bovine’s? Catholics don’t worship cows.”

“Whatever.”

“Actually, dear old Dad sent me to The Beekman School in Manhattan. And yes, they taught me to spell . . . for the most part.”

“Is it the concept of privacy you’re having trouble with? Should I explain?”

What the hell was up with her? Rafe made it a policy never to know too much about the inner workings of the female mind, but this he had to figure out. “How did I know you weren’t hurt?”

She heaved an exasperated sigh. “I would have told you. Can’t a girl be alone?”

He thought about that. Granted, the few minutes it took her to shower didn’t represent a significant chunk of the time they had to spend together. Why object if she wanted a few minutes to herself? Call him a caveman, but he did object.

“If you’re only going to use it to dredge up reasons to be pissed off, then no locked doors, Kerry. Until tomorrow night, you’re mine to take anytime I want, anywhere I want, any way I want. You’re clear on that, right?”

“You’ve reminded me plenty of times. I get it.” She turned a cold shoulder to him. “But I didn’t sign up for Big Brother.”

Attitude
. That, along with Kerry’s stay-away body language, told him that something was troubling her. The sex? She’d seemed pretty focused on the pleasure at the time but . . . was she thinking of Mark and his problems now? Wishing she hadn’t gone through with this, after all?

No. She’d been fine, until that comment about his not being here to teach her brother to acknowledge his faults. So she was upset by the realization this affair couldn’t last? He hoped she was smarter than that, but she was barely experienced and might be listening to her emotions more than her logic. Or he might be totally confused and utterly screwed.

As he stared at her truly amazing backside, Rafe did something he found himself often forced to do in Kerry’s company: He counted to ten.

“I’m not your brother,” he reminded her harshly.

She hesitated. “Good thing, too, or that would make pretty much everything we just did illegal in fifty states.”

Was this even the same woman who’d been in his bed panting his name fifteen minutes ago? Rafe brushed the question away. She’d promised to make herself available, and he wanted her now. She wasn’t shutting any more doors against him, not when they had a lot more sex to have. End of story.