The Desert Princes. Jackie Braun
my towel?’
‘On any towel…’
Leaning over him, she managed to hold onto the towel with her elbow and dab at him with the hem at the same time.
‘Don’t be so prissy—rub it in.’
Casey stared at Raffa’s sculpted shoulders before tentatively resting her fingertips against them.
‘Now, rub.’
Her whole body fired in response to the warm, firm flesh beneath her hands.
‘Use more pressure…’
She leaned against the couch, craving contact with Raffa in places that had never felt this much action before.
‘More…’
More? How could there be more than this? She felt swollen in certain places, short of breath, and hungry for Raffa in a way that made her throat tight and everything else rather too loose.
‘More pressure, Casey…’
‘I’m using all I can.’
‘Pathetic,’ he growled. ‘Try harder.’
Any harder than this and she’d explode. But she had to try, Casey told herself firmly. She couldn’t back down now. She explored the wide expanse of Raffa’s back with infinite care and absolute slowness. If she was going to do this, she was going to enjoy every minute of it. Closing her eyes, she used a little more pressure, and was rewarded by Raffa’s sigh.
‘Nice?’ she murmured.
‘Don’t distract yourself by talking—I’ll tell you when to stop.’
‘Okay…’ But he felt so good, so warm and full of energy; she wanted to be a lot closer to him than this. She leaned over, pressing herself against Raffa’s side, longing to ease the pressure inside her.
‘That’s much better,’ he said, with the suggestion of a smile in his voice. ‘I think you’re getting the hang of it at last…’
His face was deadpan, and his deep voice was muffled against his powerful forearms as she worked on his back, but his sigh of pleasure gave him away—he was enjoying this as much as she was. She took a detour over his bulging biceps and on down each of his forearms, which gave her the opportunity to press her chest against his back…
‘Much, much better,’ he husked contentedly.
She was enjoying herself so much by this time she wasn’t prepared when he turned on his back. ‘Now feel me,’ he said.
‘Feel you?’ She gulped.
‘My chest… Feel it… Explore, Casey.’
She shut her eyes and started tentatively to do as Raffa had suggested. But as she explored she grew bolder. He was magnificent. Raffa was a magnificent fighting machine…or a lover.
‘And don’t forget there’s more to me than my chest…’
She was already incredibly aware of that. Luckily her towel was still in place to hide her arousal, though the friction of it against her painfully erect nipples was almost unbearable.
She had to brazen it out. She had to be brave enough to bear the pleasure-pain of pure arousal and distract herself by tracing the hard band of muscle above Raffa’s waist.
Could anything be more delicious that that? It was too soon to find out, and so she turned her attention to his feet. She’d work her way up. Well, part-way up. Two could play at Raffa’s game. He was not just acquainting her with his body, he was teasing her—and enjoying it.
He had extremely sexy feet. Moving on from there, she tested rock-hard calves, before moving on to the firmest thighs she had ever seen. Not that she had seen many, of course…
‘That’s enough,’ Raffa said, sitting up.
‘How did I do?’
‘Better than I imagined,’ he told her dryly. Swooping down, he picked up his towel. ‘And now it’s your turn.’
‘But…’
‘No buts—other than the naked kind. Climb up.’
‘On the bed?’
‘That’s the general idea—though don’t you prefer to call it a treatment couch?’ His voice was mocking.
She was supposed to climb up and lie naked on a treatment couch still warm from Raffa’s own naked body?
That’s the one, Casey told her timid self, clutching her towel tightly around her.
‘Without the towel?’
‘Without. How am I supposed to give you a massage if you’re wearing a towel?’
‘Er…’
‘Exactly. So, please lose it.’
Closing her eyes tightly, as if that meant Raffa couldn’t see her either, she chucked the towel on the rug beneath the treatment couch and scrambled up. Clinging onto it for dear life, she tried to ignore the seductive warmth already seeping through her veins and the violent heat painting her cheeks bright red.
‘Are you comfortable?’ Raffa asked.
With him staring at her naked body…?
‘Relax.’
‘I might be able to if you’d stop reading my mind.’
‘I’m reading your muscles—they’re all bunched up…’
The touch of Raffa’s hands was indescribable. He had a wonderful natural skill that banished all signs of tension within the first few seconds. Her only complaint now was that by confining his attentions to her back he perversely made her think very rude thoughts indeed.
She wanted a lot more than Raffa was prepared to give, Casey realised—this really was just a massage.
‘Is the pressure okay for you?’
As Raffa kneaded her all too compliant shoulders, she managed, ‘Perfect…’ Perfect for her shoulders, that was, but she wanted him to touch her intimately.
Sighing, she closed her eyes, wondering how to transmit that feeling. Should she purse her lips like this? Or loosen her mouth just a little and stare at Raffa with her own particular brand of sultry? Should she try a little moue and then look away? Or just brazen it out? Maybe she should tease and run—
‘Have you done with all available facial expressions, or would you like to try for one more?’
She came to with a jolt, noticing that at sometime Raffa had pulled on his robe. ‘Is my treatment over?’ Must she sound quite so disappointed?
‘For now.’
For now? The real question was what next?
What came next was the biggest surprise of all. It seemed Raffa had no difficulty communicating his feelings, and he would quite like to kiss her too, she saw when he smiled faintly as he held her gaze.
‘How do you do that?’
‘Read your thoughts?’ As he spoke he lifted her into a seated position on the bed in front of him and brought his face within kissable distance of hers. ‘Years of dedicated practice…’
Casey frowned. Did she want to know that?
She could always join Raffa’s class, her bolder self suggested.
Join his class and then insist on private lessons, Casey concluded optimistically. ‘You’re obviously way ahead of me in that—so perhaps I need more tuition.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ Raffa agreed. ‘Could you face another ride?’
A ride? ‘How will that help?’ She covered herself with the towel. Raffa might have