Deep (The Deep Duet 1)
He’d been tracking her. She’d gone out to a couple of shops but had stayed in the neighborhood or at the apartment. She hadn’t been far. Maybe she was scared like Noah had suggested.
Rafe’s anger bubbled just under the surface. What had that piece of shit done to her that she was too scared to venture out? When he got his hands on that asshole, he was going to kill him.
Careful. You don’t do that anymore, remember? Well for some cases, Libra could be resurrected.
When she shifted into a position on the floor, facing him with her legs up and open in a V, he groaned. “Seriously, are you trying to kill me?”
Her lips tipped up in a smirk. “Do you feel like you’re dying? How do I intensify that feeling? Do you think I could kill you with sex?”
Cock… steel. Her voice dripped with pure sex and… a hint of danger. Like she might be a little serious. And shit, that just turned him on more. There was something so seriously wrong with him that he got off on the fact that she might try to kill him.
Sleep with the devil and you become a demon yourself.
Rafe stalked over to her and bent to kiss her. There was a challenge in her eyes, but as soon as his lips touched hers, she went pliant and soft.
“I’d die happy,” he mumbled against her lips.
He could feel it then, the tension easing out of her body. She gave him a soft moan and he eased her back, covering her body with his. God, she was so sexy.
She was hesitant at first, but then she looped her arms around his neck and splayed her thighs to make room for him. Rafe slid a hand into her hair and gave her a gentle tug to angle her the way he wanted.
He could feel it the moment desire tripped over her skin. She arched into him and moaned as he rocked his hips into her. “Fuck,
that’s it. Give it to me. Stop fighting it.”
Suddenly she’d gone from cool to desperate as she met the shallow rocks of his hips. Her hands threaded through his hair and she held his head to her as if she’d given herself permission to want him.
Diana met each lick of his tongue with one of her own. She followed his lead but gave as good as she got. She wanted this. She tasted like honey and vanilla. She tasted like home.
Soon they were going to talk about next steps. Because he’d be damned if he was going to keep wondering if she’d be there when he came home. He’d gotten so used to having her around, letting go was going to be a bitch. And maybe you don’t have to. He was going to fight to make that a reality. He just had to get her used to the idea.
Diana moaned, her hands roaming over his shoulders. His blood simmered just under his skin. Hell yes. This was what he needed. Find out the truth before it’s too late. He shoved away that thought. For once he wasn’t going to overthink everything.
She slid her hand between them and palmed his dick. It felt so good he saw stars. “Fuck, Diana—”
Naked, you have to get her naked. Right the fuck now.
His thumb rolled over her nipple and gently plucked the tight bud.
“Oh God, Rafe. Right there, just, please.”
There was a distant ding that barely registered in his consciousness. Diana was in his blood, under his skin. Clawing her way into his soul. There was another ding and then a sharp rapping at his door.
Fuck. Who the hell was at his door?
The part of him that had been trained to kill, trained to survive, twitched, wanting to reach for his gun, his knives, and a rocket launcher.
But shit, Diana was pumping his dick, and Rafe DeMarco, the man, was so fucking desperate to slide home deep. Funny thing about desire—it made you stupid.
Every man on the planet would almost always choose to fuck over his own survival.
He was almost glad ORUS had trained that out of him when the series of dings on the phone alerted him.
He dragged his lips off hers and cursed under his breath. “Fuck. I need to get that.”
“What?” Her voice was soft, breathy, and desperate. “You’re going to leave me like this?”
Dick: The hell I am.