My Fake Rake

“Yes.”

He moved to lie between her thighs. She opened eagerly for him, and her breath caught when he gripped one of her legs, hitching it high.

His cock rubbed between her folds before he fit the head at her entrance. His gaze found hers. Then he thrust, filling her.

She gasped. At the same time, he gave a deep, carnal growl.

He was inside her, and her heart was as full as her body, completely suffused by him. Yet, for all her joy, a small whimper escaped her.

“Hurting?” His brow creased.

“A little . . .” He moved to pull out, but she wrapped her free leg tighter around him. “Stay. Stay inside me. Just . . . give me some time.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. Clearly, waiting cost him, but he did so. He held still as she breathed through the pain and her body relaxed to accommodate him, gradual waves of loosening until the hurt lessened, bit by bit. Then it was gone, and all she felt was pleasure.

She pressed up, taking him deeper.

“Grace . . .” His groan was pained.

She canted her hips, working herself on him. With each movement, pleasure burst through her and behind her eyes.

“Oh, hell, yes,” he hissed.

She went slowly at first but could not stop herself from moving faster and faster still. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. More of him.

“Fuck me, Sebastian.” She cupped her hand over the bare curve of his arse as she spoke words that she’d only read but always wanted to say. “Fuck me the way you’ve wanted to.”

“God—” He could only rasp out one syllable before he began to thrust. Hard, powerful strokes that made her jolt.

Lord above, but she loved it. He was rough and forceful, giving his entire self to this marvelously earthy act. He was over her, and she was beneath him, spread wide for his enjoyment.

And then he moved, twisting so that he lay on his back and she straddled him. She braced her hands on his chest as she looked down into his face, gone rigid with ecstasy.

“Your turn,” he rumbled. His hands gripped her hips with almost bruising force. “Fuck me the way you’ve wanted to.”

His coarse directive was her undoing. She rode him, stroking up and down on his cock, losing herself to a frenzy that claimed every inch of her. Her head tipped forward as she leaned into sensation. Opening her eyes, she saw him lick his thumb and reach down between their slick bodies. He thrust up into her just as he circled her clitoris with his finger.

She clamped her teeth together to keep from crying out as another climax split her apart. It went on and on, until, at last, she sprawled atop him.

They spun once more, until she was back beneath him. He plunged into her, a handful of heavy, solid thrusts, each one accompanied by his pleasured grunt, before he pulled out and groaned his release, droplets spattering on her belly.

He lowered himself beside her. There were no sounds other than Grace’s and Sebastian’s own slowing breaths. The village was quiet—everyone had found their own beds. Maybe some of the villagers were doing just what she and Sebastian had done. If so, bless them. Everyone should have that kind of fathomless pleasure.

The rain had stopped, with an immense, velvet quiet following.

Sebastian’s arm wrapped around her waist, and he rested his lips against the crown of her head. She felt protected. Adored. Tenderness swept through her.

“Grace,” he said, his breath warm on her. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I know,” she murmured. He’d been careful, as he said he would be, ensuring he didn’t get her with child.

He exhaled with what sounded like relief. “Good. I’m glad. I won’t ask more from you. You and I . . . we’re friends, and I don’t want to rob you of your dreams.”

She frowned in confusion, unable to make sense of what he said. Her mind snagged on the word friends. “My dreams?”

“Of Fredericks,” he said quietly. “He’s who you want. And you and I can go on as we have, put this behind us. It was a onetime madness. An error in judgment, never to be repeated.”

Dismay nearly choked her. Was it true—he thought making love with her had been a mistake?

God, she’d been so idiotic. He’d said that their adventure was like the old days of their friendship, and, absurdly, she had let her ungovernable emotions rule her. When he’d touched her, when he’d been inside her, she hadn’t felt friendliness toward him. She’d felt . . . she wasn’t certain what to call her wildly careening emotions, but they overwhelmed her, muddled her thoughts. They had, until he’d brought her back to solid ground.