Page 7 of Romancing Rayne

“Then where, Princess?”

“Lower.”

The groan that slipped from my mouth sounded more like a growl, and Rayne shivered in my arms. Yeah, she liked that, too, when my voice deepened, and my touch became demanding. That was when my wife lost control.

“Tell me exactly where.”

“My . . .” She trailed off, and I nipped her puckered nipple through her bra. “My clit.”

I had to take a few calming breaths to get myself under control.

“As much as I’d love to tongue your clit until you’re thrashing around and screaming your orgasm, that will have to wait until tonight. For now, we’re going to have to make do with my cock.” I quickly unbuttoned her jeans, pushed them down to her knees, and went to work removing one sneaker before I maneuvered her out of one pant leg. Happy with my progress I looked up, coming face-to-face with her closely trimmed curls. I buried my face in her pussy the best I could and licked every inch I could reach. Frustrated with the lack of space and the time restraint I knew we were under, I stood and took her mouth in a kiss, making sure there was no doubt how much I wanted her. Fuck, my wife could kiss. Her tongue dueled and danced with mine while still allowing me to set the pace. She was perfect.

Rayne went about unfastening my pants at the same time my hand went to her now uncovered pussy. I slipped a finger inside, and my cock twitched at the tight, wet heat that welcomed me. As soon as she had my cock free, I pulled her leg up around my hip and in a single thrust, I was balls deep.

“Ghost!”

“Sh. Quiet. This is going to have to be quick, Princess.”

I kept my thrusts fast and forceful, not having time to work her up the way I normally would. Needing a better angle, I pressed her harder against the door and moved my hands to her ass. With a quick lift, both her legs were around my waist and her arms went around my neck. The new position allowed me to go deeper, and the tightness of her heat threatened to unman me.

“Jesus, you feel so fucking good,” I whispered. “Take one of your hands and rub your clit for me. I need you ready.”

Rayne did as I asked and moaned. Damn sexy, but too fucking loud. I brought my lips to hers and spoke quietly. “I can’t wait until we get to the hotel and I can put you on your knees and see the tattoo I love so much on your back as I take you from behind.” Her pussy spasmed, and I had to close my eyes to keep my orgasm at bay. “Princess, get there.” Before she could respond, our lips met and once again I was lost in her—consumed. Her body shook in my arms and she wrenched her mouth from mine.

“Ghost!”

“Come with me, Rayne.”

5

Rayne

“Remember the first time we were in a taxi together?” I asked after Ghost and the driver situated our luggage in the trunk, or the boot as they called it in England, and Ghost climbed in beside me.

“Every minute,” he replied.

“That’s doubtful since it wasn’t all that exciting.”

The taxi maneuvered around the busy airport traffic, and I was curious if he knew where he was going.

“Did you tell the driver where to take us?”

“I did. Now stop fishing for clues and sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Damn. I was hoping now that we’d arrived, Ghost would finally tell me about the plans he’d made. The suspense was driving me crazy.

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I tried again to get him to spill the beans.

“Yes, you do. You’ll know soon enough.” He pulled me closer to him and kissed the top of my head. “Tell me what you remember about our first taxi ride together.”

“I remember thinking the T-shirt you were wearing was a little dirty.”

I thought back and couldn’t help but smile; from the moment I’d clapped eyes on him in the airport I was so drawn to him I’d done something out of character and approached him. He was sitting alone, his back to the wall, eyes assessing everything. It was as if there was a magnetic pull, and with each step I took it got stronger.

“My shirt was dirty?” He chuckled.

“Also, you looked a little scruffy, but even in your disheveled state I could still see your muscles flexing and I wanted to touch them—without the wrinkled, days-worn shirt covering them.”