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Sasha jolted when Rafael’s hand touched her shoulder and his voice resounded behind her ear.
“Did you not hear me in the shower?” he asked in an amused rumble. He folded his arms around her as an apology for startling her, drawing her back into his naked chest.
In moments like this, when his hard arms were around her, she felt safe and cherished and almost believed they would be okay.
“I was just thinking,” she murmured, letting herself melt into his humid, near-naked frame.
“About?” His prompt was a warm vibration against her back.
About how angry she was with her body. How she felt as though these fertility problems were her fault. That this was some sort of karmic punishment.
It wasn’t. Not exactly. Endometriosis happened to women who hadn’t already carried a baby. There was no known cause. They only knew that it got worse with time. Perhaps if she’d tried to become pregnant sooner, she would have had a better outcome, but she hadn’t. How could she have known? Her symptoms hadn’t been bad enough for her to know a fertility problem was developing.
When she didn’t answer him, Rafael rubbed her upper arms and said, “I’ll call off your meeting.”
“What? Why?” She stepped out of his arms and turned to confront him. He could be so overbearing sometimes!
And damn him for being built like a god. He wore only the fluffy white towel that barely clung to his hips. She was accosted by his naked chest, each muscle delineated to perfection. Her very favorite thing was to kiss the planes and subtle dips of his shoulders and chest and biceps and throat, where she could make him swallow simply by looking there.
“You got a little loose last night.” His wide hand cupped the side of her neck. “I’m not complaining. At all. But you should sleep in.”
Her cheeks stung and she couldn’t bring herself to lift her gaze to his smug smile or the gratification in his gaze. She’d been all over him last night. She had played it off as being tipsy, but it had been more than that. Desperation had driven her to rub and writhe and take him in her mouth. To sob and encourage him to take her deeper. Faster. Harder.
So much of their lovemaking seemed to be driven by desperation these days, as though they both sensed how close they were to being rent apart.
Maybe it was just her that felt that way, though.
“What’s going on?” His thumb tilted her jaw upward, gently insisting she look at him. His expression had turned grave. “Regret?”
“For last night? Of course not.” That was true, but other things? Oh, yes. She had so many regrets, she was drowning in them.
It was causing the veil between Sasha and Alexandra to slip, which terrified her. Alexandra was the strong woman she wanted to be. The one who didn’t suffer fools or heartaches and was impervious to the cruel impacts of life.
Sasha was tortured and needy and yearned for love. She hurt. All the time.
She did what always worked when she was agitated and feeling defenseless around him. She reached for his veil, the edge of the towel he wore, plucking it loose while boldly holding his gaze.
“Did I sound like I was suffering regrets last night?” she challenged.
His lips parted to say something, but his breath turned to a hiss as she dropped the towel and caressed his hardening flesh. Something flashed behind his eyes. Suspicion? He knew she was trying to distract him.
She licked her lips suggestively and started to sink to her knees.
“No.” His voice was gruff. He took hold of her arms, stopping her. “I was rough with you last night. Let me kiss it and make it better.” He dragged her against him and the heat of his body penetrated the thin silk of the kimono, stealing her ability to speak. His hand fisted in her loose hair and tugged her head back so he could capture her mouth with his own, kissing her long and deep.
She splayed her hands on his naked skin, instantly overwhelmed. Distantly, she knew she ought to catch herself back from the rush of desire, from the way she so easily capitulated to him, but her hands roamed all over his back and buttocks, trying to touch all of him. Trying to incite him. Trying to be the one in charge.
He did the same, but with greater effect. His slow hand rubbed silk against her skin, conveying that she could become as frantic as she wanted, but he was in no hurry. Not today.
“D-don’t you have people waiting for you?” she asked breathlessly, when he slid his lazy kisses into the crook of her neck.
“They can wait.”
This, too, was her downfall. He made her feel special. He made her feel as though she was his priority. The only thing that was important to him.
She desperately needed that right now.
She lifted her arms to curl around his neck, but he stopped her so he could tug open her kimono. His gaze dropped to admire and caress her breasts.
