to speak. “Ah. I see.”
Her words were not what he expected. Not wanting to betray his shock, he lifted her face to his, and this time she let him. At the last minute, before she joined the embrace, she looked at him, a look full of raw hunger and challenge.
Not gentle . Lauren was a woman of understatement, but Rafi knew to take her at her word. As he tasted her, plunged his tongue ever deeper within her mouth, he gripped her skirt and raked it up to her waist, found his place between her legs. And pressed himself against her.
She answered him with a cry of satisfaction, and then she wrapped her legs around him, tugging him on top of her. The long seat was ample, their privacy ensured.
Lauren thrust against him, a low hum in her throat, and tugged at his waist. Rafi hastened to help her.
“This is new,” he growled at her ear, “but I like it.”
“Hurry,” Lauren moaned. “Hurry, hurry.” She actually pounded a fist against his back, and Rafi realized he’d never been urged on by a woman this way before.
“It is a day of firsts,” he marveled, enjoying the sensation of murmuring into her exertion-dampened hair, allowing it to curl between his lips, nipping at the strands.
But Lauren did not appear to hear. Her hands found his loosened waistband and shoved, hard, and then he felt her hands enclose him, guide him. Before he had a chance to prepare she had pressed him to her cleft and thrust herself against him, managing to take the head of him within her.
He felt her hands taking hold of his hips, and he hesitated no more. Gladly he plunged within her and lingered there for a moment, buried to the hilt within her, blinded with the sensation.
“Yes,” Lauren moaned through clenched teeth. “Like that. Again. Harder.”
She kept up her staccato demands, urging him on, until words gave way to need. He had never before felt free to take his pleasure with a woman without tempering his movements with care, but Lauren stripped him of caution with her urgency. The harder he thrust, the more she demanded, until he joined her guttural cries with his own, the agony of his need mounting to a climax so explosive it shut out all other sensation and he rode the wave blindly, soundlessly, for what seemed like forever before he lowered himself, utterly spent, into her arms.
For a long time he rested there, his breath slowly returning, his fingers twined in her hair. He could feel her heart pound against his cheek.
At last he eased off of her, pulled her to a sitting position, folded her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“F-for what?” she said, her breath warm against his skin. She fit so well against him, her chin tucked in the hollow of his neck.
“I couldn’t stop. I…lost control.”
Lauren didn’t respond, only ran her fingertips lightly along the buttons of his shirt, her face hidden from view.
“And, there is the matter of your own pleasure. You did not get to…”
His voice drifted off and she pressed closer against him.
“But I did,” she objected, her voice uncertain. “When…you did.”
This revelation stunned Rafi again, and he decided to keep quiet. He pulled her a little closer and absently strummed her shoulders, inhaled her scent.
Finally she pulled away and began tugging at her clothes. Rafi followed her lead and zipped his trousers.
Glancing out the window, he discovered that they had actually left the highway for the streets of Racine. They were nearly at their destination. He realized how close they had come to being discovered, but even that revelation could not dampen the euphoria he felt.
He studied Lauren, who had managed to compose herself. She was carefully applying lipstick in a hand mirror, her clothes straightened and aligned, her hair tucked back into place.
No evidence remained of their lovemaking—except for the little piece of black silk in his pocket.
“I hope,” he said gravely, “the course of treatment I recommended will prove beneficial to
Her words were not what he expected. Not wanting to betray his shock, he lifted her face to his, and this time she let him. At the last minute, before she joined the embrace, she looked at him, a look full of raw hunger and challenge.
Not gentle . Lauren was a woman of understatement, but Rafi knew to take her at her word. As he tasted her, plunged his tongue ever deeper within her mouth, he gripped her skirt and raked it up to her waist, found his place between her legs. And pressed himself against her.
She answered him with a cry of satisfaction, and then she wrapped her legs around him, tugging him on top of her. The long seat was ample, their privacy ensured.
Lauren thrust against him, a low hum in her throat, and tugged at his waist. Rafi hastened to help her.
“This is new,” he growled at her ear, “but I like it.”
“Hurry,” Lauren moaned. “Hurry, hurry.” She actually pounded a fist against his back, and Rafi realized he’d never been urged on by a woman this way before.
“It is a day of firsts,” he marveled, enjoying the sensation of murmuring into her exertion-dampened hair, allowing it to curl between his lips, nipping at the strands.
But Lauren did not appear to hear. Her hands found his loosened waistband and shoved, hard, and then he felt her hands enclose him, guide him. Before he had a chance to prepare she had pressed him to her cleft and thrust herself against him, managing to take the head of him within her.
He felt her hands taking hold of his hips, and he hesitated no more. Gladly he plunged within her and lingered there for a moment, buried to the hilt within her, blinded with the sensation.
“Yes,” Lauren moaned through clenched teeth. “Like that. Again. Harder.”
She kept up her staccato demands, urging him on, until words gave way to need. He had never before felt free to take his pleasure with a woman without tempering his movements with care, but Lauren stripped him of caution with her urgency. The harder he thrust, the more she demanded, until he joined her guttural cries with his own, the agony of his need mounting to a climax so explosive it shut out all other sensation and he rode the wave blindly, soundlessly, for what seemed like forever before he lowered himself, utterly spent, into her arms.
For a long time he rested there, his breath slowly returning, his fingers twined in her hair. He could feel her heart pound against his cheek.
At last he eased off of her, pulled her to a sitting position, folded her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“F-for what?” she said, her breath warm against his skin. She fit so well against him, her chin tucked in the hollow of his neck.
“I couldn’t stop. I…lost control.”
Lauren didn’t respond, only ran her fingertips lightly along the buttons of his shirt, her face hidden from view.
“And, there is the matter of your own pleasure. You did not get to…”
His voice drifted off and she pressed closer against him.
“But I did,” she objected, her voice uncertain. “When…you did.”
This revelation stunned Rafi again, and he decided to keep quiet. He pulled her a little closer and absently strummed her shoulders, inhaled her scent.
Finally she pulled away and began tugging at her clothes. Rafi followed her lead and zipped his trousers.
Glancing out the window, he discovered that they had actually left the highway for the streets of Racine. They were nearly at their destination. He realized how close they had come to being discovered, but even that revelation could not dampen the euphoria he felt.
He studied Lauren, who had managed to compose herself. She was carefully applying lipstick in a hand mirror, her clothes straightened and aligned, her hair tucked back into place.
No evidence remained of their lovemaking—except for the little piece of black silk in his pocket.
“I hope,” he said gravely, “the course of treatment I recommended will prove beneficial to
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