Page 220 of Rosetti Family New York
I close my eyes and breathe him in, trying to remember how to function now that I’m completely, thoroughly wrecked.
“Sleeping again already, Carter?”
He holds me even tighter, warmth and strength.
I huff, my breath tickling his chest. “Only way to keep me quiet.”
He gives a low chuckle, deep in his throat. I feel it everywhere. It makes me think of how easily he broke through all the things that kept me alone, made me realize I wasn’t as strong as I thought. Now he’s made me see something else. I’ve never slept like this, not since I was a kid. Not without waking in the middle of the night, clawing my way out of old nightmares, haunted by a bloody memory. But not last night.
No dreams. No fear. Just him.
“Surprised you didn’t put a guard on me,” I say, looking up.
“I did. Me.”
My face breaks into a grin, so wide it’s a wonder my cheeks don’t crack.
“You’re stuck with me, Carter.”
The thought makes me giddy. I know it’s supposed to be a threat, but it’s the best promise I’ve ever heard.
“Damn right,” I say. “And you better believe I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
I’m so happy it almost hurts. But I can’t help teasing him.
“Not much of a prison if I want to be here,” I add, feeling bold, feeling fearless.
He grabs my arms and rolls, pinning me under him, hovering so close my lips buzz with wanting him again.
“We’ll see,” he says.
I kiss him hard, like maybe I’ll die if I don’t. He catches my lower lip between his teeth, making me gasp. Making me mad with desire. It’s intense. More than I can take. I let it last, but we’re two people in the middle of a firestorm, and there’s no way to stop the burn.
This is what it’s like to wake up with Rafe. Like diving into a furnace. Like burning to life.
And now that I know, I’m not sure I can ever go back to waking up alone.
It’s quiet and still when we finally drag ourselves to our feet, like even this big, soulless house is surprised by the way we fill it up.
Rafe’s already dressed, watching as I stumble around, trying to find the last of my clothes. I’m in nothing but a tangle of hair and the sheet I grabbed from the bed. I catch him staring, eyes hot and possessive.
“See something you like?”
“Not sure,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. “Drop the sheet, and I’ll let you know.”
I roll my eyes, even though I love the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. Like maybe he’s in as deep as I am.
I find my clothes, get myself together, and watch the smug bastard rake a hand through his hair. He looks almost innocent when he’s freshly fucked, like a little boy in a man’s body. I want to jump him again.
We head for the hallway.
“So,” I say, testing, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “I guess I’m your prisoner now?”
I expect a comeback, something to make me huff and puff like he’s done so many times already, but he just shrugs, easy and relaxed.
“Guess so.”
“You going to tie me up? Handcuffs and all?”
