Back Wild Rain
Chapters (28)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for the novels ofCHRISTINE FEEHAN
  3. Titles by Christine Feehan
  4. WILD RAIN
  5. Copyright
  6. Dedication
  7. CONTENTS
  8. Acknowledgments
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. 13
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. 16
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20

She reached her arms up for him, locked her hands behind his neck as he carefully lowered himself into the cradle of her hips. Her body was as welcoming as the look on her face. As the wonder and joy in her eyes. Rio buried his face in the warmth of her throat, closing his eyes to absorb the feel and texture of her skin. Of her heat.

“I know what sestrilla means, Rio. You are calling me beloved one. I have no idea of the language. But I know the word.” She held his head to her, feeling the trembling in his body. He was enormously strong, with roped muscles, yet he trembled in her arms. It amazed and humbled her. She swept her hands over his back, careful to keep the makeshift splint from rubbing against his skin. She knew the exact line of his back, but the scars were unfamiliar. She traced each one, committing them to memory.

His full erection was heavy and thick, pressing against her moist entrance, but he simply lay in her arms, holding her to him while she explored his body. She felt his mouth move against her throat and her heart began to pound in anticipation. She couldn’t stop moving as flames licked at her body in the wake of his tongue. He worshipped her, taking his time when they both were already on the edge of insanity. His hands and mouth touching and tasting until she had tears in her eyes and lifted her hips in urgent need. He was incredibly gentle, tender even, so careful of her injured leg, yet there wasn’t a spot he missed on her body, leisurely feasting on her as if they had all the time in the world. His breath was warm on her stomach as he gave a series of little nips down to the tangle of dark curls.

“Rio, it’s too much.”

“It’s never too much.” He breathed the words against her, his finger pushing deep into her so that her muscles clenched around him and she cried out with pleasure. “This is the two of us, Rachael. The way we’re meant to be.” He bent his head and replaced his finger with his tongue.

She clutched the sheets for an anchor. Her body exploded, rippling with life, with pleasure, nearly sending her off the bed. Then his mouth was fastened to hers and he was lifting her hips, surging into her. He was thick and full and thrust through her orgasm, sending shock waves of fire through her body.