“I’m afraid.”

“Only a fool would not feel fear when stepping into this abyss. But it would be far more foolish to walk away now. I know you want this, and I am promising you that I will not hurt you or Jordan. I will be careful.”

She sobbed and shook her head, but her heart was somersaulting. She was nodding then, and tears were falling from her eyes.

“Yes,” she groaned, standing up on tiptoes, bringing her lips to his desperately. It was a kiss of aching, soul-destroying need and euphoria. Their mouths meshed; their tongues clashed. It was a fight for supremacy that they both won. “Yes,” she said again. “I do want this. I want you.” But what about the consequences? She ignored the voice of reason. She would cope with the fallout, as she’d coped with everything.

She needed to feel this. Just once, she was going to be selfish.

He swore in his own language and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and carrying her to her bedroom. He didn’t switch the light on. There was no need. He knew every single detail of her body. Snow fell outside, little tiny flakes that whispered their congratulations as Ra’if kissed the only woman he’d ever loved.

They whispered something else, too.

Tell her everything. You must be honest.

And he would be, one day. When she knew him well enough to know that his addiction was something so far in his past that he was not at risk of relapsing. Only then.

“I feel like I’ve known you all my life,” she whispered as her hands braced on his chest. He let her push him backwards, falling to the mattress and she straddled his hips. Her fingers worked at his buttons, releasing his shirt. She dipped her head forward pressing kisses against his washboard abdominals. He groaned as desperate need stretched through him, making his world tip off its axis. “How is it possible that it’s only been a few weeks.”

He understood what she meant. He felt it too. “Fate,” he said, capturing her cheeks and pulling her face to his so that he could kiss her. She pressed her body to his, her breasts soft through the fabric of her sweater. His fingers dropped to the waistband and he pushed it up, lifting it over her head and discarding it off the foot of the bed. It fell with a quiet swish.

Tell her everything. You must be honest.

With a sound of frustration, he lifted up, tipping her backwards onto the bed. He pulled at her jeans, pushing them down her leg with a fierce need to possess her. His fingers circled her breasts, teasing them, tormenting them, pulling at her nipples until she cried out, her voice muffled by necessity.

He brought his mouth to her breasts, and he felt her body shivering beneath him.

“You are so beautiful.” He dropped kisses along her décolletage, then lower, down her flat belly, to the apex of her thighs. The moment his tongue connected with her womanhood, she bucked her hips and began to spiral completely out of control. He pushed a finger inside of her, stroking her fast, feeling her most sensitive flesh until she skyrocketed into the heavens, her quiet moans a sign that she had lost control completely. And then he moved over her, sheathing himself in latex before striking inside of her in one swift movement. She cried out again, quietly, always quietly, but with the intensity of a thousand decibel scream.

Pleasure vibrated through Melinda. She was at breaking point. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he made pleasure that was already threatening to tear her apart swell through her body.

“I’ve missed this,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his and pulling them wide.

He moved quickly now and with each stroke she lost a little more of herself, until together they were climbing into the sky, dancing amongst the stars, lost in a galaxy that was just his and hers; all them.

Their breathing was loud; a combined sound of rasping, tormented delight. He held her tight, rolling her to his chest so that she could hear his strong heart’s beat. And he hoped she understood it. That she understood him.

Her fingers traced invisible patterns across his naked torso. His eyes felt heavy, yet his mind was energised.

“I think …” she spoke softly, cautiously.

“Yes?” He shifted a little, unwilling to break their connection but needing to look into her eyes, to read the truth of emotions there.

“I think we should still try to stick to some ground rules,” she said slowly. “For Jordan’s sake.”

He nodded, understanding why her instinct would be to protect her son. “I agree. What would make you comfortable?”

“Well,” she murmured, biting down on her lip. “I don’t think we should tell him about us. Not unless … until …”

“I understand,” he saved her from having to complete the sentence.

“I mean, I still can’t see how this will be more than temporary, and I don’t see that anything’s served by getting him to fall in love with you, only for him to then have to get used to life without you.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, marvelling at its softness. “What if I don’t go anywhere?”

Her smile was lopsided. “You will.”

“Why are you so certain?”


Tags: Clare Connelly The Henderson Sisters Billionaire Romance