“No.” He was grinning again.
“Yes,” she insisted, using the pad of her foot to circle one of his nipples. His heart just about jumped out of his chest.
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Men! Don’t you know those words can’t be taken back?”
“Says who?”
“It’s an unwritten rule. Now say it, damn it.” She drew her foot lower.
“Helen,” he warned. His teeth were making a funny, grinding kind of noise. Could be he was trying to exercise restraint. Good thing someone was. She’d lost hers about three miles back in Marysville. Probably with the first dip.
Before he could guess her next move — heck, she didn’t know what her next move was going to be — she dropped to her knees and sat on his upper thighs, real high. His arousal pressed against her stomach.
After Rafe’s eyes rolled around their sockets a few spins, he gasped out, “Son of a bitch! Are you trying to kill me?”
“Just a little,” she murmured, leaning forward. Her breasts grazed his chest hairs, then swelled and began to thrum with a sweet ache. She wanted to tease him, the way he always teased her, but she felt woozy and disoriented, as if she were drunk.
When she was so close his warm breath fanned her lips, she asked, “So, how’s your tongue, honey?”
“I swallowed it.” He smiled against her lips.
And it felt so-o-o good. A smile-kiss. She liked it. So she smiled back against his lips.
He grabbed her by the waist, compelling her back up to a sitting position. God, he was so handsome, with his dark skin and flashing eyes and firm lips that begged to be kissed. She leaned forward again to do just that when he held her back. “What are you trying to do?” he ground out.
She blinked with confusion. “I don’t know. I forget. Oh, I remember. I want you to say the words. Again.” She licked her lips to see if they were as puffy as they felt. Rafe’s eyes followed the path of her tongue with avid interest.
“Convince me,” he rasped out.
“How?” She tilted her head questioningly.
“Touch me.”
She brushed her fingertips over his flat male nipples. “Like that?” she asked. She could tell by his loud inhale that he liked it a whole lot. Then she replaced her fingertips with her mouth and suckled him the way he had her.
He responded with a thundering heartbeat and clenched fists at his sides. No words.
“And this?” She moved lower and took him in her hand for a brief second, stroking lightly.
“Definitely,” he choked out.
The only sounds in the cave then were the background rain, the crackling fire, the shifting horses, and Rafe’s ragged breathing. She relished the feel of his hot skin under her hands, the male scent of him, aroused and wanting her.
With her hands and mouth and her skin abrading his skin, she worshipped his body from beautiful toes to creased forehead. And all the time, he whispered sweet, hot words of encouragement, some of them in Spanish. Some of them so explicit she blushed, all over.
When she raised her eyes to his face, it was vulnerable and open. She realized with sudden insight that she could hurt this man deeply. Thank God, she only wanted to bring him pleasure.
“My turn,” he growled, arranging her on her stomach.
“I want to see you,” she protested.
“Shhh. Later. First, I want to explore.” She heard devilment in his voice when he said the word “explore.” She raised her head to peer at him over her shoulder, but he drew her hair back, exposing her neck, and nipped gently with his teeth, forcing her face back into the blanket. “My turn, my way, sweetheart. Slow and easy.”
Slow and easy? Oh, yeah! At this point, my hormones are already programmed for fast and furious.
First, he kissed her ear, doing those wonderful things with his tongue — which he hadn’t swallowed, after all — that he’d done to her earlier. The wet, fluttery motions that simulated the sex act made her feel like sinking right into the blanket.
“Do you like that?”