Page 75 of Break the Ice
So deep, I rise up on tiptoe and shudder at how incredibly full I feel.
Rafe grips me tight as he roots himself deep and we reach our climaxes together. It’s like floating in midair, our orgasms crashing over us. We rock and shudder out heavy breaths.
The glittering cityscape comes back into focus.
Rafe turns me around in his arms and drops kisses on my face and throat. Insatiable would be a mild way to describe him.
He’s finally wrapped a bandage around his hand as he grabs mine and leads me back into the hotel room. Not even a minute later, he’s flinging me onto the bed and pushing my knees apart. He flicks his tongue to my throbbing, wet pussy.
A sure sign he’s not done with me. Round three’s all night long.
19. Rafe
Marisse sleeps at my side. She doesn’t even flinch as I roll over and face her. I track every inch of her, studying her facial features and the curvature of her body. One thing’s indisputable at this point—this woman makes me crazy.
More chaotic than usual.
If such a thing were possible.
There’s something about her that stirs a hunger I’ve never known for another woman. Territorial desires that have me playing these games with her just to force her company. So I can say she’s mine if she wants her secret kept.
The truth is, I won’t be divulging her secret. The secret bonds us together.
Sugar might see it as one of the worst moments of her life, but I view the situation differently. It’s provided a means for my obsession to grow. My urges that call for keeping her any way I can.
She still hates me; she hired men to attack me.
Something so fucked up, I want to laugh about it all over again.
Of course she would—Sugar’s as ruthless as I am. She merely pretends she’s above it.
Meanwhile, she doesn’t realize how she repeatedly proves why I’ve found myself drawn to her. We’re mortal enemies and polar opposites, yet we’re mirrors of each other too. Two individuals who are selfish and do what benefits us most.
I reach out and stroke her shoulder. She’s fallen asleep right after a fuck. Still naked, her curls are scattered across the pillow and the sheets are twisted around her body.
Her eyes flutter open in drowsy fashion, meeting mine.
Too many questions remain between us. It’s deafening in a moment like this. The silence allows for it. It’s in the silence that our thoughts are loud and we can’t ignore the other person’s presence. The unsaid things weigh heavily.
Why did Marisse hire goons to come after me? Why did I give such an intense fuck that some asshole at a different table saw her? What is it that’s going on in that curly head of hers?
She still hasn’t explained what she said last time about the end of her sports career…
“How long have you been up?” she murmurs.
“Long enough to notice how fucking gorgeous you look first thing in the morning.”
“Yeah, right.”
She sits up to stretch, her burnt-red coils a tangled mess. The sheet falls away and exposes her perfect, pebbly nippled tits. She fails to realize she proves the truth of my words in even the simplest things she does.
“Is round three over?”
“The sun’s up in about twenty minutes.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She moves to slide off the bed, but I snatch her by the wrist first. “Not so fast, Sugar. What’s the rush? We still have a lot to sort out.”
