Raid (Unfinished Hero #3)(33)

Wow.

That was hot, cool, sexy, sweet and totally freaking scary.

It was so much of all of those, the only response I could come up with was, “My bike isn’t silly.”

“Babe, it is.”

“It’s cutesie and girlie,” I defended my bike

“It’s that too. Absolutely,” he agreed.

I tilted my head on the mattress and tried to make out his features in the dim light before I asked, “Are you sure you don’t think I’m slutty and easy?”

To that, he hauled us both up the bed and pressed into me. He reached out an arm and I blinked when a light flashed on.

I stopped blinking when my head was again framed by his big hands and I focused on his face which was all I could see.

“Do I look sure?” he asked, and I didn’t know how he knew how he looked.

What I did know was that his expression was warm and sweet, but still somehow firm and his beautiful eyes were heated, burning into me.

So I knew he was sure.

Still.

“Just so you know, I’ve only had three lovers. They were all long-term boyfriends and, if memory serves, the one where we uh… got to the business fastest, it took three weeks.”

“Do not tell me that shit.”

Oh boy.

Now he didn’t look warm and sweet.

He looked hard and scary.

“I just wanted—”

“Only thing I know, only thing I’ll focus on, is now you’re mine. I won’t share what came before and I’m askin’ you now to promise that’s the last of you sharin’ what came before me. Can you help me out and return that favor?”

“Okay,” I agreed cautiously.

“Some men wanna know. I’m not one of those men,” he explained.

“Okay.”

“Right now, it’s just you and me.”

“Okay, Raiden.”

“And you’re not leaving.”

My belly flipped.

“Okay,” I breathed.

“You should also know there’s a good chance you’ll fall asleep during church.”

I figured I knew what that meant. It brought on a shiver and my arms moved to wrap around him.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He rolled so he was on his back and I was on top. One of his arms was clamped around my waist, his other hand in my hair.

“Now, Hanna, kiss me,” he ordered, his voice rough and commanding.

“Okay,” I repeated then did as I was told.

The roll lasted about two seconds, then he did another one and I was on my back again.

Half an hour later Raiden had me coming apart at the seams.

It was glorious.

Chapter Ten

Church Sunday

My eyes opened slowly, and at first I didn’t get it.

I didn’t get the heavenly softness that covered my body.

I didn’t get the bright sunshine that seemed to be coming from everywhere.

I didn’t get what sounded like a shower coming from not too far away.

I didn’t get the languorous feeling that permeated every inch of my frame.

I didn’t get the pleasant ache between my legs.

Then I got it and I shot up to sitting in Raiden’s bed, leaning into one hand, the other one clutching the afghan I gave Raiden to my na**d chest.

Holy Moses, I slept naked.

Holy Moses! I never slept naked!

But I knew why I did.

I slept na**d because the second time Raiden did what he said. He played with me. He worked my body until I was drenched. And when he gave me an orgasm, it felt like I was coming apart at the seams.

He did things to me. Amazing things, wild things, things I knew about and things I didn’t. Things that, if I told someone, might sound strange or kinky, but things that, the way Raiden did them to me, were absolutely not.

I let him.

And I loved every second.

And I slept na**d because the time after that, Raiden did not take an excruciatingly long and exquisite amount of time making love to me.

No.

He took an excruciatingly long and exquisite amount of time worshipping me.

There was no other way to put it.

If the first time was fast, wild, out-of-control and phenomenal, the second time was slower, wilder, totally in Raiden’s control, but out of mine and it was sensational.

But the last time was like an out of body experience.

It was magnificent.

So much so, waking na**d in Raiden Miller’s bed the morning after our second date, I didn’t feel like a slut or a skank, mortified by either.

I felt happy.

So I smiled.

I looked down at the afghan Raiden obviously wasted no time using and I slid its beauty up my chest, smiling into the cashmere.

Seconds later, I dropped the blanket back to my chest, looked around and my smile died.

I was on a stacked set of queen-sized mattress and box springs that sat on the floor. The sheets were white and appeared clean, bright, even almost new. A comforter with a subtle geometric design in masculine colors of blue and red was on the floor, only the afghan on me.

The bed, as it were, was in the middle of an enormous room made entirely of wood, the walls punctuated profusely by huge, multi-square-paned windows that definitely needed to be cleaned. There was a lamp on the floor by the bed, its ceramic base chipped, a long extension cord running across the rough wood floor, plugged into the wall. Also by the bed was a small pile of condoms, some paperback books and strewn magazines.