Power Play (The Billionaire's Club: New Orleans) by Mallery Malone Page B
Authors: Mallery Malone
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this.”
“Yes!” she shouted, desperation making her impatient. “Now, Raffie. Now!”
He fit himself to her opening again, then entered her, a slow, measured progression that she felt every moment of.
When he bottomed out, he held still, hot and hard inside her, filling her completely. Shehad just enough time to draw a breath before he began to move, long searching glides, short circular strokes, rapid-fire pistoning all designed to throw her over the edge of pleasure. All the while he whispered to her, nonsense words, blunt words, sweet words that fired her senses and demanded her response. His name tore from her lips as passion and pleasure broke, shattering her.
Before she fully came down from the orgasmic high, he tumbled her onto her back, then entered her again. She watched the emotions play over his expression—sorrow, need, hunger, and something her heart wanted to believe was love. Her heart stuttered, stopped, then lurched into motion again as she fell completely and irrevocably in love with him again, a stronger, truer love than she’d had before. In that moment, she knew with certainty that Raphael was her one, her only. Her forever.
He began to move, long, slow strokes all the way out, then all the way back in. He shuddered as her inner muscles clamped down on him, his eyes sliding closed on a soft moan of her name as pleasure washed over him. She pulled him down against her, needing all of him touching her. His eyes fluttered open with the purest smile she’d ever seen on him, then he fused his mouth to hers.
It reminded her of when they were caught in a thunderstorm—electrifying, energizing, deluging. Gradually he quickened his pace, the deep strokes coming faster and faster as her body rocked for him and his sensual onslaught. With one hand about his waist, she thrust the other between their colliding bodies, spreading her fingers around him, her thumb rubbing her clit. He groaned in response, his movements wild, jerky, the precision strokes disintegrating into feral passion.
She tried to hold back, tried to delay her climax but she was too open, too needy, tooready for him. The second orgasm struck like a lightning bolt, hot and powerful and blinding. She screamed, body rigid, pleasure short-circuiting her senses. Raphael’s eyes flared neon blue as he went wild, growling as he drove into her, taking her with an intensity that was almost brutal. He came with a shout, flooding her womb and wringing another smaller climax from her.
They collapsed against each other, unable to move, to do more than breathe. “It never was good-bye. It won’t ever be good-bye.”
“No,” she managed to say. “It’s perfect.”
CHAPTER NINE
“I have to go to Choux tomorrow, but not until mid-morning,” Macy said, settling back against a pile of pillows with a satisfied sigh. After a decadent interlude in Raphael’s oversized shower, they had headed downstairs to raid the kitchen. They’d made a picnic of fruits, deli cuts, and cheeses before returning the master suite, spreading their haul out atop the cerulean blue coverlet. “Do you think Parker will have my car here by then? I’ll need to go home for a change of clothes.”
“Knowing Parker, your car’s already outside,” Raphael told her, disposing of the scavenged tray on the mahogany dresser. “You can ride in with me, or Parker will come back for you. As for a change of clothes, I bought a few things for you and stored them in the closet. Lingerie, too.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You bought me clothes?”
At his nod, she jumped up and sprinted to the far end of the room and the walk-in closet that was the size of her living room and kitchen combined. One side held a swath of suits and dress shirts with racks of shoes and built-in drawers for more casual wear. In the middle sat two low-slung padded benches upholstered in ivory fabric shot through with gold, two gold-framed floor mirrors in front of them. The other side of the closet
“Yes!” she shouted, desperation making her impatient. “Now, Raffie. Now!”
He fit himself to her opening again, then entered her, a slow, measured progression that she felt every moment of.
When he bottomed out, he held still, hot and hard inside her, filling her completely. Shehad just enough time to draw a breath before he began to move, long searching glides, short circular strokes, rapid-fire pistoning all designed to throw her over the edge of pleasure. All the while he whispered to her, nonsense words, blunt words, sweet words that fired her senses and demanded her response. His name tore from her lips as passion and pleasure broke, shattering her.
Before she fully came down from the orgasmic high, he tumbled her onto her back, then entered her again. She watched the emotions play over his expression—sorrow, need, hunger, and something her heart wanted to believe was love. Her heart stuttered, stopped, then lurched into motion again as she fell completely and irrevocably in love with him again, a stronger, truer love than she’d had before. In that moment, she knew with certainty that Raphael was her one, her only. Her forever.
He began to move, long, slow strokes all the way out, then all the way back in. He shuddered as her inner muscles clamped down on him, his eyes sliding closed on a soft moan of her name as pleasure washed over him. She pulled him down against her, needing all of him touching her. His eyes fluttered open with the purest smile she’d ever seen on him, then he fused his mouth to hers.
It reminded her of when they were caught in a thunderstorm—electrifying, energizing, deluging. Gradually he quickened his pace, the deep strokes coming faster and faster as her body rocked for him and his sensual onslaught. With one hand about his waist, she thrust the other between their colliding bodies, spreading her fingers around him, her thumb rubbing her clit. He groaned in response, his movements wild, jerky, the precision strokes disintegrating into feral passion.
She tried to hold back, tried to delay her climax but she was too open, too needy, tooready for him. The second orgasm struck like a lightning bolt, hot and powerful and blinding. She screamed, body rigid, pleasure short-circuiting her senses. Raphael’s eyes flared neon blue as he went wild, growling as he drove into her, taking her with an intensity that was almost brutal. He came with a shout, flooding her womb and wringing another smaller climax from her.
They collapsed against each other, unable to move, to do more than breathe. “It never was good-bye. It won’t ever be good-bye.”
“No,” she managed to say. “It’s perfect.”
CHAPTER NINE
“I have to go to Choux tomorrow, but not until mid-morning,” Macy said, settling back against a pile of pillows with a satisfied sigh. After a decadent interlude in Raphael’s oversized shower, they had headed downstairs to raid the kitchen. They’d made a picnic of fruits, deli cuts, and cheeses before returning the master suite, spreading their haul out atop the cerulean blue coverlet. “Do you think Parker will have my car here by then? I’ll need to go home for a change of clothes.”
“Knowing Parker, your car’s already outside,” Raphael told her, disposing of the scavenged tray on the mahogany dresser. “You can ride in with me, or Parker will come back for you. As for a change of clothes, I bought a few things for you and stored them in the closet. Lingerie, too.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You bought me clothes?”
At his nod, she jumped up and sprinted to the far end of the room and the walk-in closet that was the size of her living room and kitchen combined. One side held a swath of suits and dress shirts with racks of shoes and built-in drawers for more casual wear. In the middle sat two low-slung padded benches upholstered in ivory fabric shot through with gold, two gold-framed floor mirrors in front of them. The other side of the closet
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