Desire replaced tension, her need to touch every inch of Rafe grounded her, gave her humanity in ways nothing else could. Sex was primal, necessary, both light and dark, both good and bad. Sex connected two people physically, but what Moira felt for Rafe went far beyond simple lust. With every sigh, every touch, every need, she fell deeper into the abyss, a place she’d never escape. She didn’t want to, because this abyss was love, and she would fight to protect this precious bond.
Moira ran her hands down Rafe’s bare back. She’d memorized every scar on his body, all the damage inflicted on him in the past-days ago, years ago, decades ago. Her fingertips traced the ridges as the scars cut south, to the waistband of his boxers, then back up again, until she squeezed his shoulders. She whispered, “I need you.” And she did, more than she’d admit to anyone, even Rafe, except for now. When they were isolated, alone, together in the darkest hours of the night.
She pulled off her tank top with one hand and tossed it aside, so now both of them were completely naked except for her panties and his boxers. Rafe’s hand skimmed over her breasts. “Come to me, sweetness,” he whispered, then breathed warmly into her ear, sending shivers along each nerve ending, down and back. She kissed his neck, ran her teeth over his jawline, lightly biting his earlobe when she tasted it. His long, hard body pinned her to the mattress and for one torturous, exquisite moment neither of them moved. Time stopped, the only sound their hearts and breath.
Rafe clasped her hands in his and spread them out on the bed. His lips sought hers, slow and firm, a long kiss she never wanted to end. Her skin basked in Rafe’s scent, his heat, his love. She yearned for much more than this breathtaking kiss, but she didn’t want to move.
And still he kissed her, his fingers entwined with hers, his arms pressed against her arms, his bare chest hot against hers. Now she squirmed beneath him, her passion fighting the restraints of Rafe’s methodical seduction.
He tilted his head up, breaking the kiss, his lips curved in a half smile that alone would have knocked her socks off. “Is this lust, Moira? Or is it love?”
His eyes locked on hers and she realized he expected an answer. He’d been hurt the other day when she’d implied that maybe their passionate feelings for each other had been the result of the demon Lust, not their own desires.
She licked her lips and swallowed. The intensity of Rafe’s stare had her heart quicken. He brought one hand to her breast and held it there, right above her heart, and waited for her to respond.
She leaned up to kiss him, but he leaned away, not taking his eyes from hers.
“Rafe-”
“Tell me.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Moira watched Rafe’s expression, both patient and passionate. He wanted an answer and would wait forever to get it, even if he had to keep her lying here for hours. Days. She swallowed, wanting more time. Time for them. What if she loved so deeply that she couldn’t think? That she couldn’t fight? That she couldn’t protect those she cared about out of fear for their lives and souls?
Then she realized that love wasn’t something she could stop. Love couldn’t be turned on and off like a faucet. Love existed between two people who valued each other more than themselves, who recognized that together they were stronger, not weaker. The depth of her love for Rafe couldn’t be regulated or controlled. Her love, their love, simply
“It’s always been love,” she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them, before she could reconsider the step she was taking. Maybe she thought too much, analyzed too much. “From that first moment I found you, it’s been love. Each day it grows stronger until I feel like I’m drowning with these emotions. I am scared.” Her voice cracked. “But I love you so much.”
Rafe had been waiting to hear those words, even though he knew them to be true long before Moira accepted the fact. He kissed her, this time with the passion and urgency he’d been holding back, waiting for her to open her heart. He let go of her hand and her arms wrapped around him, moving up and down his back, her fingers pressing into his muscles inch by inch, as if memorizing every cell in his body. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, his tongue tasting her salty skin, his nose breathing in the light, floral soap she’d showered with. But under the faint perfume, Moira shined. Her touch, her taste, her scent was so familiar Rafe could believe he’d known her for a lifetime.
He kissed the soft, delicate skin under her chin, moved down and painstakingly kissed every inch of her smooth skin around the base of her breasts, circling until his mouth reached her nipple. He drew the nub in slowly, held it until Moira groaned and tried to flip him to his back. She was strong, but he was stronger, and he pinned her back down with a grin. “I’m not done.”
“You’re driving me crazy, Rafe.”
“Likewise, sweetness.” He reached down and skirted his fingers over her panties.
“Take them off,” she demanded.
“Or what?”
Her eyes flashed with sexy humor. “Or I won’t play nice.”
“I’m not playing.”
He slid down her body, the blankets falling to the floor at the end of the bed. The room was near black, only a dim streetlight splitting the room in half through the slit in the hotel’s curtains, wrapping them in dark and light shadows. Moira’s body was long, lean, and full of energy she could barely restrain. He had to give her credit for the attempt; Moira was not a woman who laid around limply. She was life itself.
He took off her panties as she’d commanded and dropped them to the floor. He rubbed each of her calves in turn, his thumbs memorizing every curve of her tight muscles, every one of the soft spots, the tender points under her knees, the fine lines where one well-defined muscle met another. She squirmed, her hands grabbing the sheet beneath them, as he worked his hands up past her knees, parting her glorious legs as he kissed her inner thigh. First one side, then the other. She trembled, and Rafe smiled. She was trying so hard not to take control. It went against her nature, and he loved her more for it. For trusting him.
When Rafe’s mouth skimmed Moira between her legs she gasped and pulled at the sheet, trying in vain to hold back her explosion. She thought she felt his smile, or maybe it was a chuckle, but she heard nothing except the hot rush of her blood. She might have cried out, she didn’t know, she didn’t care; all she wanted was this moment to never stop at the same time she wanted it to end. How could something that felt so wonderful be so agonizing?
Rafe’s hot breath teased her, and then he kissed her at her center, his tongue mimicking lovemaking, and she did call out then as she lost all control, every muscle in her body tightening, then releasing all at once in a rolling wave of ecstasy.
She barely caught her breath and Rafe was doing it again, torturing her with his firm, deliberate kisses. She’d had enough of submitting to him.
Rafe wasn’t surprised when Moira relaxed completely, then pounced on him, efficiently flipping him to his back. Except that he was too close to the edge of the bed and they tumbled to the floor. She ended up on top, her eyes narrowed, a small smile on her face. She was glowing in her passion and her love, and Rafe reached up to pull her down to him.
“My turn,” she said and roughly pulled down his boxers.
Rafe closed his eyes, letting all his senses focus on Moira’s touch. She was not as patient as he’d forced himself to be. She kissed his thighs, then nipped him, her hands moving from his legs to his stomach to his ass, where she squeezed at the same time as she licked the underside of his penis. He gasped, instinctively reaching for her head, her hair twisting in his hands. She slid her entire mouth around him and he was teetering on the edge.
“Make love to me, Moira,” he said. “Love me, sweetness.”
She rose above him looking like an angel, her dark wavy hair falling tangled around her face. She straddled him, directing his penis with her strong, slender fingers, until he slipped in. She pushed him deep inside with one thrust and froze. Her eyes closed, her mouth partly open, the narrow strip of light cutting across her breast, she was the most beautiful, sexiest woman Rafe had ever seen.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded. “Look at me, love.”
