Page 88 of Not Safe for Work

“Look at me,” he rasps. “I want you to look at me.”

I meet his gaze, and something crucial traverses our once-uncrossable divide.

We dissolve in a fog of lust and desire, underlined by the barbs and cuts we’ve delivered over the years. Verbal punches and kicks and jabs that were about something entirely different from what either of us understood. They’ve smoothed away, leaving softer curves and edges.

I feel like I’m frothing over rapids as I paddle madly to shore, trying to find my breath, trying to find solid ground that isn’t there. I crash, my body bowing up to meet his, my cries filling the air. Rafe loses control, his movements stilted and frantic as he thrusts again and again and then shudders out an exultant moan as his orgasm rocks over every inch of skin.

We stare at each other, our lungs expelled of breath. Both entangled in an emotion I’m not sure either of us knows how to name.

“Wow,” I finally say because it’s the only way to adequately encompass all the layers I need to dig through.

“That was incredible,” Rafe says, his voice deep and rough like bricks dragged over concrete. He clears his throat, but there’s no clearing the hunger in his eyes. They’re a night sky glittering with a million points of light.

We both smile, and I’m struck with the sense that, again, this smile is only for me. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.

“I want to do that again,” Rafe says. “All of it. I want to taste your mouth and eat you out and fuck you until the sun comes up, Tris.”

I slide my hands into his hair and pull his face to mine.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Morning,” Rafe murmurs into the curve of my throat. He’s wrapped around me like a blanket, and I snuggle into him, refusing to think about how good this feels. I’m tumbling through a black hole that’s sucking me into a void of nothing, but I close my eyes and cannonball straight into its heart. I’ll deal with the fallout later.

“Morning.” I twist to face him, the band of his arm tightening. Before I can say anything else, he’s kissing me. Last night was full of firsts and seconds and, let’s be honest, thirds and fourths, and as Rafe rolls on top of me, it’s clear we’re going for fifths, and I am one hundred percent here for this.

After we’re done, I groan into my pillow, “I don’t want to leave this room.”

It’s Friday morning, and it’s almost the weekend. Rafe slides from the bed and begins gathering up his discarded clothing.

“Let’s call in sick.” I roll over and bare myself, tearing the blanket away. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

He’s tugging on his pants, and I lick my lips and aim my pointed gaze below his waist. His eyes turn black as coal as a low growl rumbles in his chest. “Don’t tempt me.”

I rise to my knees, piling my hair on top of my head with a seductive smile. I can see him weighing his options as he steps closer, his hand sliding into the hair at my nape.

“Later,” he says with obvious effort. “As soon as we’re done today, we are meeting back here, and we aren’t leaving this room for the entire weekend. I haven’t even scratched the surface of all the filthy things I want to do to you.”

He kisses me quickly and then turns to leave the bedroom.

“Did you really just say that to me and walk away?”

He tosses a wicked grin over his shoulder as he disappears into the second bathroom.

“Fine,” I call, collapsing in a heap on the bed. “Don’t be surprised if you find yourself here alone.”

I hear his cackle from the other room as if he knows there isn’t any universe in which I’d make good on that threat, and I hate that he’s absolutely right. Wild unicorns won’t keep me from this bed.

I blow out a sigh because I can feel the stirrings of a headache. Forcing myself up from the bed, I hunt down my painkillers, hoping to chase it away.

“Why do you have so many pills?” Rafe appears in the doorway and gestures to the counter. He’s buttoning up his shirt, and I mourn the loss of the view.

“These are for daily prevention, and the rest are for dealing with the pain when they don’t work.” I wave out a hand, showing off my collection.

Rafe narrows his eyes. “What causes them?”

I shrug and squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush. “I don’t know.”