on memories of her attack, but rather thoughts of her rescuer.
The shower came on in the bathroom and she shivered, all too aware that Rafe was naked on the other side of the wall. Naked and…wet. And no doubt rock hard. Katie exhaled and rolled onto her side, bringing her knees to her chest in an effort to distract herself from the stunning arousal she felt lying in Rafe’s bed, surrounded by his scent, listening to him soap his naked body. She tried to think of other things—the pile of work that was no doubt waiting for her back at home, the murderous thugs lurking around outside at that very moment—but her mind kept going back to Rafe. The way he’d slipped his hand into her panties. How he’d felt inside her last night and this morning.
“This is crazy,” Katie murmured to herself. No sooner had the words left her mouth than a delicious wave of ecstasy rolled through her belly and settled squarely between her legs. She moaned in surprise and squeezed her thighs tightly together. “Shit.” Another wave of pleasure, this one nearly kicking off a bona fide orgasm. Katie closed her eyes and took calm, measured breaths.
This was really crazy.
A low, muffled groan from the bathroom confirmed the source of her surreal ecstasy. With her eyes shut, she was able to focus on the sound of Rafe—and more importantly, the feel of him. Even without seeing him, she knew he was jerking off. Of course he was. It was the smart thing to do, during this rare moment apart. And it was probably necessary for his continued sanity as dusk approached. Except—
Katie moaned quietly as breathtaking pressure built in her womb. Unable to keep still, she rolled onto her back and stared at the pattern of the wood grain on the ceiling, biting her lip as the shared sensation with Rafe grew more intense. She was certain he was going to make her climax without even touching her, which was absolutely amazing—and exciting. Yet she wanted to rub her clit so badly she ached.
She succumbed to the urge almost immediately. Unbuttoning her jeans with shaking hands, she plunged the right one into her panties as soon as she had access. Pure relief spread throughout her body, but her muscles remained tense and her breathing only grew more labored. She glided her fingertips through her slick arousal, shuddering at the overwhelming sense of satisfaction that the caress brought. A quiet moan escaped her lips, and Rafe answered it through the wall.
Could he feel her pleasure, like she felt his? She hoped so. Eager to enhance his masturbation session—and hers—she moved her fingers down to tease at her opening. The contact felt so good that her hips lifted on instinct to allow her fingertips to slide inside. She groaned quietly, then grinned at a grunt from the next room. That was a good sign. Pressing in deeper, she lay the palm of her hand over her sex and rubbed herself sensuously.
“Fuck.” Rafe gave a muffled shout. Then he let loose a snarl that raised the hair on the back of her neck and caused her pussy to contract, hard, sending her over the edge once again.
Unable to cope with any more stimulation, Katie pulled her hand from her panties and rolled onto her side. She curled into the fetal position and closed her eyes, riding out her climax in desperate silence. One moan at the wrong second and Rafe could be here and inside of her before she could summon the strength to say no.
Finally the pleasure ebbed and she could breathe again. The water turned off in the bathroom, signaling that Rafe was also finished. She didn’t know how long it might take him to get dressed, but she was certain that she didn’t want to be in this state when he returned to the bedroom. She sat up with effort, wiping her hand on her panties—like that would disguise her scent—then fumbling to fasten her jeans. She spent the next two minutes schooling her breathing and trying to think about happy memories of home. About anything but Rafe.
He returned to the bedroom wearing no shirt and a clean pair of sweatpants. Clearly embarrassed about his state of undress, he barely met her eyes and rumbled, “Closer we get to dark, less I can stand wearing them.”
“Them?”
“Clothes.” He gestured down at the pants, which failed to hide his unflagging hard-on. “I’ll keep these on. I just can’t tolerate