He lost it then. He really, really lost it.
He cradled his head in his trembling hands. Craving inflamed his senses and turned his blood molten. His muscles engorged and throbbed.
“To hell with the condoms,” he raged. Throwing down his pan, he sloshed through the water, overcome with his need for Helen. A man could only take so much. If temptation was good for the soul, he’d been a saint. But every man has his limits.
Helen was already at the cabin when he caught up with her. “Rafe, what’s wrong?” she asked with concern, dropping her towel.
“Not a damn thing,” he said huskily, lifting her by her waist up against the log wall. His lips came down hard on hers, and his arousal grew, hurtling him toward a mind-blowing meltdown.
She took his face in both hands and forced him back a bit, trying to understand. “Rafe, what… Oh, my God, don’t do that! He was tonguing her ear with a feverish rhythm. “What’s going on here? What changed your mind?” she choked out disjointedly.
“You, baby. You changed my mind.” He ripped out the words.
Meanwhile, his frantic hands were busy sliding off her shorts and palming her bare buttocks. As he began to unzip his pants, he murmured, “I love your ass.”
“Rafe, stop a minute and think. What about birth control?”
“I’m comin’ in bareback, babe. Damn the consequences.” He released his erection with a cry and surged into her before she had a chance to question him further.
This was going to be the quickest “quickie” in history if he didn’t slow down soon.
Helen was confused by Rafe’s about-face. And extremely aroused. Her inner folds shifted to accommodate his size and rippled around him in reflexive welcome.
“Helen.” He said her name as if she were a dream come true. His heavy-lidded eyes were wild and luminous with his need for her. “Help me,” he pleaded in a guttural voice. “Love me.”
“I do,” she whispered, placing a caressing palm against his face.
Locking her legs around his waist, Helen urged Rafe to begin the strokes that would give them both relief.
“Oh, hell! Oh, damn. O-o-oh… I… can’t… I…” He grew even larger inside her. Still unmoving, he threw back his head, arching his neck with anguish. His eyes were squeezed tight, and sweat beaded his forehead.
She would have begun the movements herself, but her lower body was pinned to the wall, impaled, by Rafe’s heavier weight.
“Rafe, look at me.”
At first, he refused to open his eyes. Perhaps he couldn’t. When he finally did, his blue eyes appeared unfocused, pleading.
“Move, damn it! Now!”
“I can’t,” he gritted out. “Just wait.”
“No,” she cried out, and reached a hand between their bodies, skimming her own silky curls, damp with arousal.
Then she took the base of his hard sex between her fingertips.
He let out a keening groan and jerked, as if burned, and pulled out, then instinctively eased back in, one excruciating millimeter at a time. The friction was so intense, she screamed. Or maybe it was Rafe.
She moved her hands up to his shoulders and let Rafe take over then as he allowed his passion to rule the play. Cupping her buttocks, he drove into her with increasingly shorter and harder strokes. He buried his face in her neck and nipped at her soft flesh. She felt his heartbeat thud against hers.
“NOW!” Rafe yelled and slammed into her one last time. His big body shuddered against hers as he released his seed. “HEL-EN!”
Blood drained from her head, and tingles of exquisite pleasure swept her skin, catapulting her in huge spirals upward and upward, culminating in a series of convulsions so fierce she shook.
They both fell to the ground, unable to stand on their seemingly boneless legs any longer. Their mingled breathing was harsh and loud in the still air.
She was lying on the ground at his side, her face pressed against the red flannel covering his chest. His arms were thrown over his head, and his bare legs were parted as far as they would go in the slacks that pooled at his ankles.