Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 5

Raine's nerves were so raw that the muted thump of the car door closing made her gasp. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down as he circled the car. She would not panic and run. Not this time. This was just a fling; all about pleasure, excitement, desire. It was not about forever and happily ever after. She could not afford to confuse those two utterly separate issues.

She jerked as he opened the driver's side door. The big Chevy Avalanche seemed much smaller and warmer once the dark length of him was folded into it. He turned the keys in the ignition and gave her an inquisitive look as the motor purred to life. “So?” His gaze slid swiftly down her body, then returned to her face. “Where to?”

She made a helpless little gesture. “Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“On, ah, what you want to do. What your interests are,” she offered desperately.

An ironic smile flickered across his lean, dark face. “My interests,” he repeated. “Yes,” she pushed on. “There's the, urn, art museum, with a show of... I think it was Frida Kahlo, last time I checked. And the Pike Street Market, of course. The Space Needle is always a favorite. And there are some wonderful boat trips, if you haven’t seen the—”

“No art. No shopping. No boats.”

Raine eyed him, suspicious hint of dark laughter in his voice. “Then... what do you want to do?” she faltered.

A sensual smile deepened the grooves around his mouth.

Heat swept up over her chest and face. Her heart began to gallop. The silence between them stretched out. He wasn't going to move or speak, the ruthless bastard. He was going to torture her. Watch her twist in the flames with that knowing, piratical smile on his face. He was going to wait... and make her say it.

And he knew that she would. Those searching dark eyes saw right through her, all the way down to the sweet, restless ache that pulsed inside her, where the wild woman waited, naked and willful and wanton. He knew perfectly well how much she wanted him.

She opened her mouth, praying that something coherent would come out. “What do you want, Seth?” she whispered.

His gaze dropped to her lips. “Take a wild guess.”

She closed her eyes and took the plunge. “Do you want... me?”

The silence was agonizing. She opened her eyes. The naked hunger in his face stole her breath.

He seized a wisp of her hair that had escaped from her knot, and twined it around his finger. It was so pale it seemed to glow against his hand. “Yes,” he said. “Can I have you?”

She gave him a short, jerky nod.

There. She'd done it. She was committed, and hurtling forward into the unknown. Her heart hammered in her chest. He was so brutally handsome. She wanted to stroke the harsh, elegant planes of his face, to soothe the pulsations of red-tinged, angry energy that she felt emanating from him. Splashes of scarlet, anger and blood flashed across her dazzled inner vision, like dream images. A prickle of unease mixed into the shimmering, giddy alchemy of her excitement. Danger.

It had to be a side effect of sexual arousal, she told herself. She would not let herself panic and run. She wanted this so badly.

He turned the key, shutting off the motor. “Take down your hair.”

She was glad for something to do with her trembling hands. She plucked the hair sticks out of the low chignon, slipped them into her pocket and let the coil of hair spring loose over her shoulders.

Seth gathered it into his hand and buried his face against the rippling mass. “Oh, God,” he said, in a harsh, muffled voice.

She let out a startled squeak as he seized her, hauling her up and over the plastic console that divided the seats, and onto his lap. His arms tightened around her trembling body, and he stared up into her eyes. As fierce and intent as if he could read her mind.

Maybe he could. She didn't care. She could hardly feel any more naked to him than she did now. She stared back into his eyes and wiggled against him, her legs dangling over the console. Loving the hard solidity of his body beneath her. She touched his chest tentatively with her fingertips, breath fluttering. His muscles were firm and springy. His heat scorched her. He had to be running a fever. His breath was as rapid as her own as she looped her arm behind his neck and delicately touched her lips to his.

Seth made a harsh sound deep in his throat, and his arms tightened around her with steely strength. That little butterfly kiss she had bestowed upon him was permission for the real kiss to begin, a hot, devouring kiss unlike any she had ever known or imagined. She fell into it headlong, intoxicated by his voracious energy, the taste and feel of him. He smelted so good—soap and leather and wool and a unique smell all his own, warm and slightly lemony. His jaw was scratchy and rough, his sensual mouth coaxed hers open. Eager, bold and delicious.

She wanted to writhe against him, crawl inside his skin, touch everything, taste everything. He was so strong, bursting with fierce energy, and she ached with hunger for it. His thick shaft pressed against her bottom, rock hard, radiating heat.

The calluses on his hand caught and snagged against her nylon stockings as he slid it slowly under the hem of her skirt. “I can feel your heat,” he said huskily. He eased her legs gently apart and his hand slid still higher, his fingertips brushing across the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.

She pressed her face against his neck, acutely aware of every feathery stroke against her thighs. The path of his gentle, questing fingers was traced with light and heat. A sudden burst of emotion made her clench her legs tightly, trapping his hand between them. “I think I'm burning up,” she whispered.

He wound his hand through her tangled hair again, tilting her face back and staring into her eyes.

“You want me,” he said. It was not a question.

Raine gave him a tiny nod, as much as her trapped hair would allow. He unwound her hair from his fingers, and his hand slid higher. He pushed her legs just wide enough so that the tip of his finger brushed against her most sensitive spot. The hot sunburst of sensation made her gasp and jerk in his arms.

He laughed at her shocked expression, trailing his fingertip tenderly in teasing little circles. His eyes were bright with challenge. “It's like putting my hand into a hot cloud,” he whispered. “You're already wet I can't wait to get these domes off of you.”

Her body betrayed her, quivering with eagerness. “Seth, this is going too fast for—”

“You love it.” He cut off her panicked protests with a fierce, marauding kiss and his hand slid boldly higher, cupping her whole sex. Touching her where no one had ever caressed her, not even during that terrible, botched episode with Frederick. His hand was slow and sure and wickedly clever, and his tongue thrust into her mouth as he stroked the pad of his thumb around her clitoris, tracing sensual, lazy circles through the fabric of her panties and nylons. She trembled in his arms, dazzled and lost.

A loud burst of male laughter rudely broke the spell, and they both jerked apart, startled. She stiffened, pulling away, and Seth cursed beneath his breath.

A group of men were walking towards the gate, smirking and catcalling. One of them made a thumbs-up sign at the car before they disappeared. She looked down at herself, appalled. Her hair was a tangled halo, her skirt bunched up around her waist, her face damp and hot, and probably cherry red. Legs wantonly spread, and his hand—touching her. Dear God, what was he thinking? What was she thinking? This tryst had spun out of control with perilous speed. She squirmed away from him, shivering. “Stop it, Seth. I am not an exhibitionist!”

“Me neither, usually.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his rigid penis, clearly outlined against his jeans. “Sex with an audience is definitely not my scene, but you've got me so hot, I wouldn't even care.”

“Well, I care!” she said breathlessly.

“Could've fooled me, sweetheart.” He cupped the nape of her neck and dragged her face to his for another rough, plundering kiss. He pressed her down against his erection as he wound her hair into his fingers, devouring her mouth. His hands were hard, insistent, right on the edge of painful, but it was a quivering, knife-edged pain. As if she were going to fly apart and only he could hold her together.

She squeezed her eyes shut, digging her fingernails into the tough dark leather of his coat. She felt intensely vulnerable, and so excited she felt she would melt apart into a shimmering cloud. She squirmed against the unyielding bulge beneath her bottom and kissed him back hungrily.

He vibrated against her with silent laughter and pulled away, his eyes taunting her. Gleaming with smug masculine triumph.

She tried to glare at him. “That's not fair,” she said shakily. “This is your fault.”

His eyes narrowed. “What's my fault?”

“This!” She made a frantic gesture at their entwined bodies. “It's your fault, for turning me on, making me lose my head!” She swatted him as he pulled her back for another kiss. “Stop that. Oh, God. Please, Seth.”

“But you want it,” he coaxed, his voice husky and seductive. “I love how you respond. I'd love to open my jeans and slide you down onto my cock, right here and now. You could ride me until you come apart. And that would just be just the appetizer, sweetheart. Just a teaser, to hold us until we get to the nearest bed. The nearest door that we can close and lock. That’s when I'll really give it to you. As much as you want. Hard and fast, or sweet and slow. Whatever you want. All day long.”

She stared with helpless fascination into the seductive, molten darkness of his eyes. She felt flushed and wanton, unbearably tempted to yield to him, to give him anything.

The door to the warehouse burst open. Three more men came out and something inside her clenched up. The outrageously naughty fantasy he had woven in her mind evaporated into smoke.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, trying to steady herself. “Hey, those guys aren't going to disappear,” she whispered. “I'd—I'd rather wait for the bed and the door. Please stop teasing me.”

His face lost all expression. He pulled his hand out of her hair and leaned back. “Then stop lap-dancing right now, sweetheart,” he said, his voice cool and ironic. “You're making me crazy.”

She scrambled back into the passenger seat, pulling down her skirt. “Sorry,” she whispered, and promptly wondered what on earth she was apologizing for.

He put the Chevy into gear. She tumbled back, against the seat as he accelerated out of the parking lot. The world outside the car was a fuzzy blur, reminiscent of her own interior confusion, and she fumbled wildly for her glasses, putting them on with trembling hands. She put on her seat belt, smoothed her cold hands against her crumpled skirt and tried to breathe slowly and steadily. It was a wasted effort. Her lungs refused to expand. “Where are we going?” she ventured.

His eyes flicked over her. “Where do you live?”

“No. Not my house,” she said, without thinking.

“No? Why not?”

She shrugged, not eager to explain. “I don't feel safe there.”

“And you think you're safe with me?”

Her spine stiffened at the derision in his tone. “No, Seth,” she said, with soft dignity. “You don’t make me feel safe at all.”

The mocking smile faded from his face.

“That's why I want you,” she said simply. “You make me feel wild. Fearless. I... I need to feel that way.”

There it was, out in the open. The naked truth. He didn't seem to like it, judging from his grim face and the muscle twitching in his jaw.

He flicked on the turn signal. Panic leaped and pirouetted in Raine's midriff as he began to pull off the highway.

“What—where are we—”

“I saw signs for a hotel” He shot her a brief glance. “A bed and a door that locks. Wild and fearless. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He pulled into the Marriott and parked. When she got out of the car he took her by the arm, pulling her alongside him with such restless urgency that she had to scurry to keep from stumbling.

She had set a huge machine in motion. No way to stop it now, thank God. The timid, terrified part of her wanted to cut and run, and the wanton pirate queen was triumphantly glad to have outmaneuvered it. She couldn't sabotage herself now. Not with Seth. He wasn't going to give her the option.

Her fate was sealed. No more waiting, no more games. As soon as the hotel room door thudded shut behind them, he started wrenching off his clothes with sharp, efficient movements, keeping his eyes trained on her as if she might bolt. She followed suit, stepping awkwardly out of her shoes, shoving her glasses into her purse, struggling out of her jacket.

He unbuckled his belt and kicked off jeans, shoes, socks, underwear. He was ready, naked and waiting while she was still fumbling with her cuffs. Her gray eyes gleamed feverishly as she stared at his body, bright flags of color burning in her cheeks. She was too damn slow. She backed nervously away as he advanced on her, but his patience had run out, and as soon as her back hit the wall he started in on the blouse. Christ, he was going to buy her something stretchy that peeled off. Those fucking buttons were going to be the death of him.

His help didn't do her blouse too much good. The fragile silk practically disintegrated under his hands, and at least three buttons flew. She gasped and tried to bat his hands away, but he was already shoving the ruined garment off her shoulders, releasing a warm, heady wave of her delicious scent.

“Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I'll buy you another one.”

“It's all right,” she whispered. Her cool, slender hands splayed across his chest as he fumbled, cursing, with the zipper of her skirt. As soon as the fabric yielded he sank to his knees, wrenching it down around her ankles. He did the same for her pantyhose and white cotton panties, pulling them both down with one violent yank.

Seth stopped, panting. He was shaking, muscles rigid, heart racing. Losing it. He had to chill, or he was going to make a mess of it But his face was mere inches from the soft curves of her thighs, the tangle of blond curls that hid her sex. He could see every detail, the pale and dark blond ringlets mixed together, the shadowy curves and hollows of her graceful hips, the enticing cleft of her labia.

Raine was staring down at him, her eyes huge and shadowy. Her mouth was slightly open as if she wanted to say something, but her face was transfixed by emotion, her lips quivering. Her hair glowed like the aureole of an angel, backlit by the lamp in the wall sconce behind her. She steadied herself on his shoulders, and her fingers flinched at the contact. He must be burning hot.

Her hand moved slowly, touching his throat, then his face with butterfly gentleness. She explored the bones of his jaw and his cheekbones with the tips of her cool fingers, and stroked his hair, as if she were gentling a wild animal.

The gesture sent a shaft of longing through him that cut so deep that he almost cried out. Seth closed his eyes and pressed his face against her soft belly, fighting for control.

God, he had to keep his emotions out of this, he had to remember exactly where he was and who he was dealing with at all times, or he was going to go nuts. Maybe he was going nuts anyway. He felt crazed, jagged and feverish, balanced on the edge of a knife. Every detail of her perfect body jarred him, shocked him. The skin of her belly was satiny smooth, like a baby's, and her navel a shadowy indentation, begging to be licked and kissed. And now she was petting him again, running her fingers tenderly through his hair, God help him.

He lifted up her slender, delicately arched feet one by one, peeling her hose and underwear from her ankles, and then did what he'd been longing to do from the first moment that he had seen her naked body on the video screen. He slid his hand between her thighs, forcing them slightly apart, and pressed his face against her mound. A startled cry vibrated through her body. He inhaled the sweet melange of her scent, the hints of soap and lotion, and beneath it, the hot, heady perfume of her feminine arousal.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and her thighs trembled as he gently opened the tender folds of her labia. Inside the nest of curls, she was flushed and moist. He pressed his mouth against her cunt and tasted her, feeling the low cry that vibrated through her body. She was salty sweet, slippery and delicious, and she wanted him. He could smell her excitement, he could taste her desire. No woman could fake that, no matter how much she was paid.

That much was real, and all his. He would cling to that. For as long as he was flicking her, he would live the fantasy, and simply push reality away. It was the only way to maintain his sanity. Fortunately, he was good at it. He'd gotten a lot of practice in shoving reality away in the past ten months. He was going to need every bit of it.

He rose to his feet, his breath sawing heavily in and out of his lungs. “You're going to leave your bra on?” he demanded to know.

The pink in Raine's cheeks deepened as she reached behind herself to unhook it. She froze in place, staring at him and holding the plain white garment over her breasts.

He was impatient with the teasing game. Her mouth opened in a silent “Oh” as he wrenched the bra off of her and flung it away. She crossed her arms swiftly across her chest.

This was very different from his fantasies. He had imagined her eyes glowing with sultry invitation as she got right down to business, sinking gracefully to her knees in front of him; drawing his stiff, aching shaft into her mouth with practiced skill. Or there were a number of other scenarios, any one of which would have done nicely.

She did none of these things. She just stood there, breath jerky and shallow, her face flushed bright pink. Most of the lipstick was gone from her trembling mourn. Her mascara was smudged under her wide, dazzled eyes. One slender arm was locked across her chest and her breasts bulged over the top of it. The other hand shielded her crotch. Her body shook, a fine, rapid tremor, and she stared at his body as if she had never seen a man naked before.

Whatever. It worked for him. Having a gorgeous woman stare at his cock as if it were one of the seven wonders of the world did great things for his ego. A man's cock could never get enough female appreciation.

Seth pried her arm away from the plump, pink-tipped perfection of her tits with some difficulty. Her hand was cold and trembling, and he knew exactly how to warm it. He wrapped her slender fingers around his thick shaft. The coolness of her hand was delicious against his burning flesh, and he groaned with pleasure.

His hand tightened around hers as he showed her how he liked his cock to be stroked; long, firm pulls milking him all the way to the tip. He slid her palm around the head, moistening it with pearly drops of pre-come so that her hand could slide up and down the length of him, slick and silky. Her other hand was hovering over him as if she wanted to use it too, but was afraid to make a mistake. She let out a terrified little squeak as he grabbed her hand and brought it up to her face. “Lick your palm,” he ordered.

She blinked, and her wet tongue flicked out, licking her palm delicately. He took a deep breath, jolted by pure lust, and hung on to his control. “Again,” he said roughly. “Make it really wet.”

Her head bowed and she obediently licked her hand, then gasped when he pulled it down and wrapped it around his cock. He moved both of her hands with rough eagerness. 'Touch me harder,” he urged. “Don't worry, you won't hurt me.”

Raine made a soft, wondering sound, and hid her hot face against his chest. Her fragrant hair tickled his nose, and her hands grew more confident in their grip, dragging a groan of pleasure out of him. His hands wandered over her eagerly, skimming her soft swells and dips and curves. Her breath hitched in her chest as he cupped her soft, full breasts, rolling the stiff little nipples between his fingertips.

Her hands were growing bolder, pulling him dangerously close to the brink. He had miscalculated, in his zeal to get her going. He was too turned on for this kind of play, if he didn't want to explode right now.

He reached down and trapped her hands in his. She rubbed her rosy, humid cheek against his chest, and gently kissed his flat brown nipple. Her tongue flicked out, licking his chest as her soft hands tightened around his cock. She peeked up at him shyly, gauging his reaction. “You're salty” she said, sounding fascinated. “You taste good.”

That was it. He couldn't wait any longer.

Seth shoved her back against the low dresser and lifted her up onto the smooth surface, wedging his thighs between hers. She was so beautiful he didn't know where to begin. Her hair rippled down over her taut, flushed breasts, her slim waist. He ran his hands greedily over her ribs, the deep indentation of her waist, and shoved her soft, rounded white thighs wider, until he could see the glistening pink folds of her cunt inside the damp ringlets.

She clutched his shoulders for balance, fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. Her hands were warm now, but still shaking, and she moaned, almost inaudibly, as he trailed his fingers across her moist, sultry flesh. She was drenched and silky soft. More than ready. Her hot, womanly smell waited up, making him salivate. Later, he was going to wallow in the luscious tenderness of her cunt, bury his face in it and lap it up like a starving man. But not yet His cock wanted what it wanted, and he didn't feel like fighting it anymore.

Her gaze locked with his as he slid a finger inside her sheath, testing her. It was going to be a tight fit, but she was slick and soft, and clenching eagerly around his finger. She was dying for it.

He withdrew his finger slowly and circled it around her rosy, swollen clit “You like that?”

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her hips jerking against his hand. “Yes,” she gasped out

“You liked touching my cock?” he persisted.

Raine closed her eyes tightly and nodded.

He watched her carefully. “You're ready to take me inside of you?”

Her hips pulsed eagerly as he slid his slick, gleaming finger in and out of her. Another mute nod, and he was satisfied.

He grabbed one of the condoms he had scattered across the dresser and ripped it open. He rolled it swiftly onto himself, lifting her legs and draping them over his elbows. The low dresser was the perfect height for him to spread her out and take the plunge.

She leaned back on her elbows, her eyes glowing with tremulous hope, her soft white thighs spread out in trusting surrender. Wide open, defenseless. The look on her face made him want to cradle the delicate curve of her cheek in his hand, to touch her tenderly, reverently.

Not good. This was not what he had signed up for. It was wacked, it was crazy, and it was making his gut ache with something that felt remarkably similar to fear.

Seth pushed the feeling savagely aside, concentrating on the lust that clawed and maddened him. He positioned the blunt tip of his cock inside her, nudging it into the tender folds until it was firmly lodged. He pushed, expecting to glide into her with one slick, seamless thrust.

It didn't happen. She was incredibly tight, the tiny muscles tense and rigid, resisting him. He pushed harder, sweat dropping into his eyes, and she made a sharp, choked sound, gripping his shoulders.

None of this was going as he had anticipated. He should have been already caught up in a storm of sexual oblivion, slamming himself into the slick, eager depths of this beautiful woman, lost in the driving rhythms of wild, untrammeled, mindless sex.

Instead, he was standing stock still, teeth clenched, in an agony of reluctance to hurt her.

She sensed his frustration, and tugged at his shoulders with a tiny wince, enveloping a little more of him. The clinging caress of her body threatened his control, and he grabbed her hips and held them still. A shaky, uncertain smile curved her mouth, sending a surge of unwelcome, unwanted emotion rocketing through him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I need a little more time before we, um ... do that.”

He withdrew and took himself in hand, gently caressing up and down the length of her cleft with the tip of his cock, long, soft, licking strokes that made her shudder and gasp. “You're very tense,” he said.

A ripple of nervous laughter vibrated through her. “Maybe it’s you who’s very big.”

He grunted derisively. For God's sake, he wasn't that big. His cock was good-sized, yes; certainly nothing to complain about, but it was not immense. He pulled her off the dresser and onto her feet. She stumbled, steadying herself against his chest, and looked at him with huge, questioning eyes.

“Go lie down,” he snapped.

She hesitated, looking nervous and uncertain. He gestured impatiently towards the bed.

She started to say something, but the look on his face evidently changed her mind. She bit her lip and silently did as she was told.

He stared at the tangled blond hair rippling down her back, the swell of her perfect ass as she bent to pull down the coverlet. She was so docile, so unsure of herself. So different than what he had expected. It was making him angry, restless and disoriented. This was supposed to be all about sex. Pure, naked, steaming sex.

She gave him a timid, questioning look.

“Lie down,” he repeated, wondering if she was ever going to take the initiative. She acted like she had no idea what to do with him.

Raine reclined on the bed and lay there like a sacrificial offering, her eyes wide and apprehensive.

Whatever. Fine. He liked being on top. It was his nature to run things, in bed and out. Probably she sensed this and behaved accordingly, like a good little courtesan. He shoved away the stab of anger that went with that fleeting thought, just in time.

Live the fantasy, he reminded himself. Keep it together.

She lifted her hair behind herself, spreading it out in a bright, glinting fan across the pillow, and then held out her arms to him with a shy smile.

His whole body reacted, and he didn't even remember moving. He just found himself straddling her, his heart thudding, staring down into that sweet, radiant smile, feeling famished and desperate.

Seth shoved her legs apart, trapping her beneath him instinctively, as if afraid she would try to escape. But she didn't struggle, just sighed and wiggled softly beneath him, wrapping her slender arms around his shoulders with a murmur of pleasure, as if seeking his warmth.

He pressed the burning length of his cock against her soft belly, buried his fingers in her satiny gold hair and kissed her, a starving, ravenous kiss. He wanted to devour that bright, welcoming sweetness. He wanted it all for himself. He wanted to claim it, to own it.

She twined her arms around his neck, her nails digging into his back. Her mouth was sweet and yielding beneath his. Her eager tongue ventured shyly into his mouth, her hands tangled in his hair and her slim, petal-soft body arched beneath him, silently begging him to finish what he had started. But she had already miscalculated once, and he knew himself well enough to know that once he was inside of her, he wasn't going to be able to stop, no matter what she said or did.

It was better to be sure, even if it killed him.

Raine clutched his hair and moaned as he slid down the length of her satiny body. He folded her legs up and rubbed his rough cheek against the incredibly soft skin of her inner thighs, savoring the hot smell of her sex. He loved the shocked cry of pleasure she made as he drew the swollen bud of her clit into his mouth.

Her taste drove him out of his head, the rich, earthy sweetness of her juices, the silken perfection of her secret flesh. She writhed under the slow, loving lash of his skillful tongue, her hips bucking in his grip. He held her ruthlessly still, licking and lapping at her, following the flow of energy that rose in her trembling body, pushing and coaxing. Slow and patient and relentless.

He nudged her over the top and sent her flying. He drank in her pleasure, the wailing cry, the convulsions that pulsed, wet and hot and uncontrollable, rippling through her slender body. He felt exultant, triumphant He lifted his head, wiped his mouth and studied her. Eyes closed, panting, her body wild-rose pink and damp with sweat, still trembling from the aftermath. She was as relaxed as she would ever be.

His turn.

Seth could barely control his own trembling eagerness as he mounted her, nudging himself into her soft, drenched body. Her eyes flew open at the blunt intrusion, but she opened up, embracing him.

She gasped as he shoved himself halfway in. “Wait a second,” she begged “Let me get used to it.”

He cupped her face and kissed her with pleading tenderness, making tiny rocking movements with his hips. “Relax. Let me in.” His voice was rough with desperation.

She clasped her legs around his hips. “I swear, I'm trying.”

He stared into her face. Her dilated eyes were gazing at him, her lower lip swollen from his rough kisses, trembling again with emotion. She reached up and touched his damp cheek, smoothing it.

She was wide open to him, utterly unmasked. Whipped cream and butter and silk, just as he had fantasized, just what he had wanted her to be. It was eerie. If it was an act, it was an unbelievably good one.

“Are you always like this?” he demanded, in spite of himself.

Her eyes opened, dazed. “Always like what?”

“Nothing “ He shoved away the stab of incoherent anger, flexed his hips and drove himself inside her, all the way.

The tight, slick heat of her hugging the entire length of his cock swept away the last vestiges of his self-control. He plunged in again, hearing her sharp, breathless cries as if from a long distance. He couldn’t tell if they were cries of pleasure or protest, nor could he have changed anything if he had known. He was lost, thrusting fast and furious. Locked into his own body's savage need; no hope of slowing, no chance of stopping. His orgasm bore down on him like a runaway freight train, and the explosion wrenched through him with brutal force.

Then he came back to himself, sprawled heavily on top of her. The silence in the room was deafening.

He lifted his weight up off of her. There was no sound but for their ragged breathing. Her face was turned away, only the delicate curve of her flushed cheekbone was visible. He felt irrationally afraid, as if he had ruined something as it was trying to bloom. Something as soft and fragile as a butter-fly.

He rolled off her, and she drew in a great, shuddering breath of air, her breath hitching in her lungs as if she were crying. He searched for something soothing or gentle to say, but his mind was blank, wiped clean by that mind-shattering orgasm.

She rolled away from him and got up off the bed. Her trembling legs buckled beneath her. She steadied herself against the wall and hurried to the bathroom.

The door lock clicked, loud and harsh.

He hissed softly through his teeth and sat up, burying his face in his hands. When a woman locked herself in the bathroom without a word after sex, it was not a good sign.

The rationalizations started immediately—hey, she'd been willing, every step of the way. It had just gotten out of control at the very end.

When it counted the most. Damn.

The silence was driving him nuts. He pulled off the condom and disposed of it, then lay back down on the bed, arms behind his head. He prepared to wait, for as long as it took. No way was he going to let their tryst end on this note.

It was a matter of pride.