Christine Feehan - Wild Rain

"Rio, come to bed."

He studied her expression. Soft. Inviting. Temptation. Her mouth was sinful. He had more than his share of fantasies about her mouth. Her lush body, so soft and warm and perfect for his, was an invitation he couldn't ignore much longer. The longer she stayed in his home, the more she belonged there. "Damn it, Rachael, I'm not a saint." His voice was harsh, deliberately challenging. He was so edgy and moody he wanted a fight with her. He wanted to go back into the jungle and sulk far away from her. If his obsession with her continued to grow, he didn't know what he was going to do.

Rachael did the unexpected like she always did. She burst out laughing, the sound carefree, not in the least bit frightened. "You have no worries, Rio, I am not about to mistake you for one."

"Well why the hell are you looking at me like that then? Don't you have any idea how vulnerable you are right now?"

"I think you're the one who's vulnerable, Rio, not me. Come to bed and stop acting so macho. You can put on your he-man face in the morning and I'll do my best to act afraid if that's what you need, but right now, you need sleep. Not sex, sleep.".

" You think I need sleep," he groused, but obediently slid into the bed beside her. She was warm and soft and everything he knew she'd be. Rio wrapped his arms around her, fit his body around hers, snuggling his heavy erection tightly against the cradle of her hips, his head against the soft swell of her breast.

"I know you need sleep. Just lay it down for a while. If you're worried about someone sneaking up on you, I'll watch over you." She could feel the silk of his hair, damp from washing, teasing her nipple. Rachael wrapped her arms around his head, cradled him to her, her fingers woven in the thick mass of hair.

"I should check your leg after that idiot cat jumped on it."

His breath was warm against her breast. She felt desire pierce her like a sword. "Go to sleep, Rio, we can check it in the morning." For the rest of the night, she would pretend he belonged to her. Her own gentle warrior, fresh from battle, a mixture of danger and tenderness she found impossible to resist.

RIO woke before dawn. It was his favorite time of day. He loved to bury his face against Rachael's warm breasts and just listen to the soft cries of the early morning birds and the continual symphony of the forest while he held her to him. He felt more alive, more complete in those moments just before dawn, before the household stirred to life and the day's demands were on him. Rachael breathed so softly, in and out, warm and welcoming, her flesh a lush invitation to paradise. He knew every line, every hollow. Her body was etched deeply into his memory. He knew her form better than she knew it, and he knew every way to please her.

Rio smiled and buried his face in the valley between her breasts just to inhale her scent. She always seemed to smell of flowers. He was certain it was the soaps and shampoo she made from the petals and herbs in the forest. His tongue swirled over her nipple, a lazy, leisurely movement. Life was perfect at dawn. He breathed her in. His Rachael. His world. There in their secret world with the light filtering in through the high canopy, Rio found strength and passion and everything he would ever need to exist and live.

He nuzzled her breast, swirled his tongue over her tempting nipple a second time and drew soft flesh into his mouth, suckling gently. Rachael stirred, shifted to bring her body more aligned with his, to arch her back a little more to offer her breasts while her arms crept around his head to cradle him close. He loved her reaction, that first drowsy offering of her body to him. He knew when he plunged his finger deep inside her to test her readiness, she would already be hot and wet and welcoming.

Making love to Rachael was always an adventure. They would be so tender together it would bring tears to his eyes, or they would be rough and wild and totally uninhibited. Rachael would rake his back, dig her nails into his flesh or ride him with wild abandon. Sometimes he spent an hour just loving on her, feasting on her. Her body was so familiar to him, yet he was full and hard and bursting to be inside her, so eager his body was painful. Like the first time. Like each and every time he touched her.

His hands moved over her body, warm, soft flesh, tantalizing, tempting, a delight he could hardly believe was his. He lifted his face to hers, fastened his mouth on hers, a hard, possessive kiss that took their breath so that they had to exchange air while the world rocked around them. Her mouth was hot and sweet and achingly familiar.

For just a moment, there in the dawn when it didn't matter, when he didn't have to have a veneer of civilization, he always allowed his wild nature to rise. Possession, jealousy, a dark predatory need to claim Rachael for his own rose up as it always did. The beast, always so close to the surface, rose with him, untamed and roaring for her, wanting her with every fiber of his being. His skin itched as he tasted her acceptance of him, ropes of muscles contracting as he dragged her closer, his thigh moving over hers to pin her beneath him. It never bothered her when the beast was so close to the surface, even if she felt the brush of fur on her sensitized skin. She always accepted him, always wanted him, always welcomed him.

She laughed softly into his mouth as he devoured her, fed on her, kissing her over and over without restraint. He wanted her so much, wanted to be buried deep inside her where he belonged, where the world was always right. He wrapped his arms around her while her hands explored the muscles over his chest. There was possession in her touch as she skimmed his belly and found the hard length of his erection. She closed her fist over him tightly and he gasped with the pleasure and the pain of it.

"I want to taste you this morning," he whispered. "I can't wait to feel you squirming the way you do, your fist yanking at my hair, telling me to hurry, hurry, hurry." He kissed her chin, her throat, the soft swell of her breast.

"Oh really." Her voice was a teasing lilt. "And here I thought I was going to drive you out of your mind this morning. Can't you just imagine being in my mouth? I think it's my turn, we were rudely interrupted last time."

Her fingers danced over him, the way only Rachael could do, teasing and stroking, small caresses designed to drive him mad. If she took him in her mouth he was going to explode, a heady, wild eruption that would make her laugh and demand satisfaction. He knew her so well, yet not at all. Rachael-his lady, his reason for existing.

He shifted his weight and dragged her body beneath his, his knee sliding between her legs with expert precision, opening her beckoning heat to him. He settled over her, into her, pressing against her tight opening, already anticipating the pleasure he would give her. He moved away from the temptation, sliding down, his tongue swirling in her sexy belly button, his teeth nipping at her flat stomach. His thigh pressed against hers in demand, shifting her leg to the side.

Rachael screamed, a cry of terrible unrelenting pain, curling up in the fetal position, curling away from him. Her cry set the monkeys in the trees chattering and the birds scolding. She choked off the sound quickly, breathing deeply to regain control.

Rio's perfect world shattered. "What the hell am I doing? Damn it, just damn it." Groaning, he rolled off her onto his back, both hands covering his face. "I'm sorry, Rachael, damn it, I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened. I swear, for a minute, I was someone else. Or you were someone else, or we were the same but different. Hell! I don't know what I'm saying." He pulled his hands from his face and looked at her, his expression grim. "Are you all right?".