“I’ll take care of you,” his deep voice said, each word pronounced in slow motion. “I can make you happy, Lex.” He withdrew his finger, and I heard the unmistakable sound of him spitting before he dipped it in again, making my insides clench in a blissful ache. “No one loves you like I do. I just wish it didn’t take this to lower your guard.”

Somewhere in my hazy brain, I knew I should feel shame at the moan that poured from me—long and continuous as his finger fucked my asshole. His palm kneaded my butt cheeks, and his other hand spread my legs, fingers reaching for my clit.

I fisted the messy bedding and groaned, my teeth clamping down on the twisted sheets. My hips bucked and tension coiled low in my belly as I impaled myself on his fingers. Again. Again. Shit…harder.

So close. Ooooh…good God. I didn’t want this. It was wrong. So horribly detestable. A deep burn ignited in my chest, threatening to turn to me to ash. Rafe’s face pulled at the edges of my mind, compelling me to follow, to free-fall into the memory of him.

I squeezed my eyes shut and allowed the fantasy to take over. Rafe’s hands, his skin on mine, his breath in my ear. His fingers pulling at my hair. “More,” I groaned. “I need to come.”

He pulled away, and I cried out in protest, begging him not to stop. Every part of my body tensed, readying for release, needing it, and the longer he delayed, the more the ache intensified.

“Put the dress on.” He tickled my back with what felt like silk before dropping the garment on the mattress. “Then I’ll make you come.” His steps retreated, gently padding away. The creak of a door sounded. I crawled to my hands and knees, turned my head, but he was gone. How could he leave me like this? I needed him, but needing him hurt too much.

My heart pounded at an alarming rate, and the burn still simmered in my chest, a moment away from incinerating. I doused the dark thoughts and clutched the dress, slid from bed, and my body poured like fluid onto the floor. With a sigh, I lifted the silky material and pushed my head through, wondering why I’d put up such a fight. Pure sin encased my flushed body, and I rubbed the silk between thumb and forefinger, over and over again, entranced by the texture, certain I could never stop touching it. Slowly, tension ebbed from my bones, my limbs, my hands. The fire in my chest was but an ember.