Raoul kissed his way up her belly to her br**sts, paused to flick her ni**les with his tongue and rub his face between the soft mounds. She felt so soft, so hot, almost melting into his body. She moaned softly and he felt it vibrating through his cock. He was so hard, unbelievably so, but this was for her. This night. He had one night to show her he loved her with every fiber of his being.
He lifted her h*ps with one hand, pressing the head of his erection against her welcoming entrance. She was soaked with desire, and he thrust in, driving through her impossibly tight folds, the pleasure so intense it tore a groan from his throat. He caught her h*ps in his hands, pulled back and drove as deep as he could go.
She cried out, her body holding his in a hot fist so tight his balls ached with the need for release. All the while her muscles rippled and quaked, adding to the plea sure coursing through him. “You’re so ready, ma belle femme. So damn sexy I don’ know if I’m going to be able to make this last.” He thrust again, a long hard stroke that pushed him to the edge. “You come for me, Flame.”
“I already have.” She wasn’t even sure how many times.
“Again. I want you to come apart in my arms. I want to hear you screaming, cher.” She was panting, her br**sts rising and falling with her labored breath. Her hand went to his hip again, fingers digging in deep while he surged in and out of her slowly.
“Then give me more, Raoul. Give me all of you.”
He sank into her, felt the heat rushing through him with the speed of a fireball. He pulled her h*ps close, lifting her legs over his shoulders and began to ride her hard, long, deep strokes, faster and faster, over and over, burying himself so deep his balls slapped against her bottom. Sweat broke out on his body. The angle allowed him to penetrate her deeply while increasing the friction on her most sensitive spot. It felt like he was surrounded by hot velvet, living, breathing velvet wrapped so tightly around him it was squeezing and milking him.
The walls around him tightened, clamped down with ferocious intensity. Flame screamed and bucked wildly, sending him crashing over the edge right along with her.
There was a roaring in his ears, little hammers tripping in his head and the rush started in his toes and consumed him completely. He emptied himself into her, caught somewhere between heaven and hell. It was the most explosive orgasm he’d ever experienced, the best sex, lust and love tightly intertwined.
He lay over the top of her, shifting enough to stay away from her injured arm, but burying his face in her neck. He closed his eyes, savoring the scent of her, the taste of her, the way her body held so tightly to his. Her hot channel had clamped down so hard on him, she’d ripped the cl**ax out of him before he could stop, before he could make it last longer. And, Dieu, he wanted longer-he wanted forever.
“Marry me.” It came out of nowhere. He hadn’t planned asking. Hadn’t thought about asking. But there it was. Two words that might save them.
She went still, her breath catching in her throat with a little audible hitch. Her br**sts heaved against his chest, ni**les hard and tight against him. Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “Raoul. Don’t. You can’t ask me something like that.”
“Why not? I’m never going to love another woman the way I love you. I want this, what we have right now for always. Don’ you?” He propped himself up on one elbow to stare down into her eyes. He wanted to beg her to save them, but he could only do his best to convince her. “Don’ you want me, cher?”
She cupped the side of his face with her hand, her thumb sliding back and forth over his jaw in a small caress. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb over his lips. “Marriage ceremonies leave paper trails. You know that as well as I do. I believe Peter Whitney is alive. If I were to marry you he’d come after both of us.”
“Lily married Rye and no one’s bothered them.”
“Now that’s a real shocker. You’re just adding to my belief that Lily knows exactly what Whitney is up to.”
“So maybe that wasn’t the best example. What about Nico and Dahlia? You can’t think they’re involved with Whitney.”
She shook her head. “I can think a lot of things you don’t, Raoul. You know Nico, I don’t. For all I know he married Dahlia, and Whitney stays away because she’s right where he wants her to be.”
He kissed her. He tasted his own desperation, his fading hope. He tasted bitterness. “Just let’s do this, Flame. We can go to a friend of mine, here in the bayou. Grand-mere and Wyatt can go with us. I won’t even tell my friends if you’d rather I didn’t. We’ll be low-key.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you until you have to go back.”
Gator turned over onto his back, his fingertips pressed against his eyes. “And then, what? It’s over? You just walk away like nothing happened?”
“I have cancer, Raoul.” She was grateful for the candlelight. It made it so much easier to say the simple truth. She wouldn’t be around all that long once it took hold.
“Whitney put it in remission twice. We’ll go to a doctor.”
“And I’ll be in the computer system for Whitney to find.” She sighed and reached for his hand. “Whitney manufactured his own variety of cancer that last time. He told me he did. If just any oncologist could put it in remission, why would I ever go back to him?”
“Did you ever have it checked out to see if it was the truth?”
“I hacked into his records. At that time, he probably let me, so who knows how accurate they were?”
“Then let’s give it a shot.”
She rolled onto her side. “Raoul, I love you. I know that I do, but I’m not signing your death warrant. I believe Peter Whitney is out there and that he’s looking for me. I will never, under any circumstances, go back there alive.”
“Then we’ll go to Lily.”
“They’re one and the same to me. It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right, damn it.” Raoul closed his eyes briefly and made himself breathe. There was no reason to argue; she’d made up her mind and he knew he couldn’t change it.
“Let’s just take this one day at a time. Who knows what will happen?” Flame suggested.
“Yeah. You’re right.” His voice was husky, tears clogging his throat. She was giving him no choice.