Here Comes the Rainne Again (Invertary 6)

“Strip, Rainbow.”

“Alastair?” Rainne opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, clearly unable to figure out what to say next. Those little lines appeared between her brows.

Alastair turned and locked the door. Then he toed off his boots, along with his socks. With his eyes on Rainne, he unzipped his wet leather jacket and let it fall to the floor. Rainne’s eyes went wide at each move he made.

“Take off the sweater, Rainbow.”

He yanked his own sweater over his head and threw it to the floor. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and he almost lost the little self-control he had left when she licked her lips at the sight of his bare chest.

“Rainbow.” It was a growl.

She didn’t move. It was as though she was dazed. Her fingers slowly lifted to touch her lips.

Alastair glanced around. They were in a tiny hallway, painted in a tasteful cream that made him think Rainne hadn’t gotten around to decorating yet. On the left was an open doorway into a small living room/kitchen. The lamps were on in the room and he could see an open novel on the sofa. Straight ahead was a closed door—he assumed the bathroom. To the right was another open door, this one to a dark room with a double bed under the window.

Now he had his destination.

His hand went to his belt and he unbuckled it, watching Rainbow’s eyes as they followed his every move.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Sorting things out between us.” He unbuttoned the top button on his jeans.

“Shouldn’t we talk first?”

“Talking doesn’t work for us. This is better.”

He stalked towards her, pressing her back against the wall, hip to hip. Letting her feel every hard inch of him. Letting her know how much he wanted her. No. Needed her.

He placed his forearms on the wall beside her head and leaned forward to rub his cheek up the side of her throat. Her head fell to the side to give him access. He nibbled on her earlobe, letting her hear his breath, gratified when it made her shudder. She smelled like sherbet. He ran his tongue down the smooth column of her throat to bury his nose in the curve at her shoulder. She tasted like sherbet too.

“Do you want this, Rainne?” He asked the words against her skin, nipping gently at her when he paused. “Do you want me to make love to you?” He honestly thought he might collapse and die on the spot if she said no.

Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, holding tight.

“Yes,” she whispered.

It was all he needed to hear. He grabbed her sweater at the bottom and yanked it up awkwardly.

“Help me,” he pleaded.

She released her hold on him long enough to tug the top over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Alastair groaned as he fell to his knees. Without pausing, he took one of her perfect pink nipples in his mouth and sucked hard.

“Alastair!” It was a plea.

Her fingers wound into his overgrown hair and held him tight against her. He vowed never to get it cut short again. He kissed and licked and bit. Teasing her nipple until her gasps were feverish and her fingers tugged tight at his scalp, making it sting perfectly.

He turned his attention to her other breast and lavished it with the same attention, flicking his tongue rapidly over her nipple until she arched her back and pressed her breast into his mouth. He sucked it deep. Delicious. She was delicious.

Her soft, panting moans were music to his ears. He could listen to them forever. If he had his way, he would listen to them forever. He’d spend morning, noon and night making her writhe with pleasure just to hear those sounds.

Using his good hand he tugged her leggings down, taking her underwear with him. He sat back on his heels and his mouth watered at the sight before him. An expanse of soft, milky skin leading to paradise.

“Off.” He pulled the leggings and socks.

Swaying, she placed a hand on each of his shoulders to help kick off her clothing. At last she was naked. He felt like a starving man at a banquet. He didn’t know where to start first. Slowly, his eyes travelled up her body to find a desire-filled gaze looking back at him.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.