I Married the Don for the Debt, and My Husband Walked In Alive novel · Chapter 5 of 24

Chapter 5: Your Own Room

I did not knock.

It was Tuesday night, and rain hammered the gallery roof and ran off the shutters in long sheets.

Rafe was at the desk by the window with his sleeves rolled and a ledger open, and he looked up when the door opened.

I stood there in his oversize white shirt, washed free of flour, with nothing under it.

The lamp was lit.

I had thought about turning it off, and I did not.

"I'm not afraid," I said.

He closed the ledger.

"Your own room is down the hall, Mrs. Beaumont."

"I know where it is," I said.

"The door locks from your side."

"Then lock yours," I said. "Or come over here."

He stood.

He was taller than I remembered when I had to cross a room to him, and slower, and the slowness was for me.

He stopped an arm's length away and looked at me from the bare toes to the curls on my shoulders.

"Take it off."

My fingers found the top button.

"Look at me while you do," he said.

I looked at him.

Button by button the shirt opened, and the cool air touched my skin, and his eyes followed every inch.

When it fell off my shoulders he made a low sound in his chest.

"God, Camille. Come here."

I walked into him.

His hands went around my waist and lifted, and my legs wrapped his hips.

He carried me to the bed and put me on my back in the middle of it.

He did not undress.

He knelt over me and took my face in his hands and kissed me slowly, and then not slowly.

I tore at his shirt.

Two buttons popped and rolled across the floor.

"I liked that one," Rafe said.

"Buy another."

He stripped it off, and his chest was broad and dark-haired, and an old pale scar ran under his left ribs.

I touched it.

"A sit-down when I was nineteen," he said. "Later."

"Later."

He kissed down my neck and over my collarbone and took my breast in his mouth.

I arched off the sheets.

His tongue circled my nipple, and his teeth closed gently, and my fingers dug into his shoulders.

"That's it," he said against my skin. "Let me hear you."

"Rafe, please."

"You're beautiful. Look at you."

His hand slid between my legs.

I was soaked, and he felt it, and his breath stuttered.

"All this for me?"

"All of it."

He stroked me, slow, parting me with two fingers and circling my clit with his thumb, and I rocked into his hand.

"Tell me what you want."

"You. Inside me. Now," I said.

"Say it again."

"I want your cock inside me." My voice cracked. "I want it now, Rafe."

He stood to shed the rest.

I propped myself on my elbows and watched him unbuckle his belt.

He was thick and hard and heavy, and I felt my mouth go dry, and my thighs pressed together on their own.

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