Rebel Hard
Page 7

 Nalini Singh

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A burst of shyness threatened to strangle her.
“That’s better,” Raj said roughly before she could surrender to the emotion, and then, one hand spread on her lower back, arched her toward him. He licked her nipple once, paused.
Whimpering, Nayna fisted her hands in his hair and tugged.
He gave her what she wanted, sucking her nipple and part of her breast into his mouth. He scraped his teeth over her flesh. Nayna’s head fell back, her breathing ragged. She’d imagined what it might be like, but this… “Raj.”
Releasing her breast, he came to her mouth. One hand still on her back, he fisted the other in the straight strands of her hair, gripping it tight. His chest crushed hers as he kissed her deep and demanding, her nipples rubbing against his T-shirt. That he was fully clothed while her dress was crumpled around her waist just amplified the wetness between her thighs.
Nayna kissed him back without finesse, driven by need.
He moved the hand on her back past her hip and to her thigh. Cupping her thigh from below, he stroked her skin as he kissed her like she’d always wanted to be kissed.
“You taste so good,” she blurted out when they came up for air, and wanted to wince at her lack of sophistication.
But Raj kissed her again, as if in reward for her confession. His bristly jaw continued to be rough against her skin, his hand even tighter in her hair. The small tugs sent pulses right to her clit, the tiny bundle of nerves aching for his touch.
Though if he did go there, Nayna wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
The next time Raj broke the kiss, he moved his hand back up to her breast, squeezing and petting it while he held her gaze. “I like how tight and firm you are,” he murmured. “Like biting into a just-ripe peach.”
Her skin flushed, her throat dry.
“What do you want?” A rough rumble of a question as he ran the pad of his thumb over her engorged nipple.
Her toes curled, her breath catching. “Take off your T-shirt.”
He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her nipple again. It was a jolt through her entire system each and every time. Eyes hooded, he watched himself touch her, distracted from her request by the visual eroticism.
So Nayna, bad girl to the core tonight, pulled at his T-shirt.
He got the hint, kissing her hard one more time before he reached down to tear off the T-shirt and drop it to the grass—while keeping her exactly where she was using the pressure of his body. Then she was skin-to-skin with him and he was kissing her throat while making rumbling sounds in his chest, and Nayna decided this was it. He was it.
The man to whom she’d give her virginity.
Never, never had she thought she’d find a man who made her forget to be self-conscious and just enjoy herself. Yet here she was, half-naked and with no panties and she was ready to keep going as long as he kept touching her.
It felt like she’d been thirsty all this time and he was the rain.
Nibbling his way up her throat, he used his grip on her hair to angle her head to claim another kiss. Nayna wasn’t about to resist. For Raj, she was easy. When he stopped and nipped lightly at her lower lip, she opened her eyes to find his looking into hers.
Her breath caught, her gaze his prisoner.
6
Reason #1 Why All Naynas Should Invest in Running Shoes
Bracing one hand against the wall beside her head, Raj squeezed her breast as if he had every right to fondle her.
Nayna shivered, unable to look away from the penetrating darkness of his eyes. He was the one who looked down… to focus on his hand on her breast. Teeth sinking into her lower lip, she followed his gaze and her thighs clenched around him.
His hand was marked by multiple nicks and scars, his nails cut bluntly. Veins stood out on the back of his hand and along his arm, and she had never seen anything sexier than Raj’s hand on her breast. She watched, barely able to breathe, as he rotated the pad of his thumb over her suddenly excruciatingly sensitive nipple.
She dug her nails into his shoulder.
Lashes rising, he leaned in closer and said, “Do you like rock climbing?”
Dazed and aroused, Nayna had to decode the roughly spoken words one by one. “I’ve never been rock climbing.” It was surreal having this conversation while he was fondling her breast and she was petting his chest like it was her most favorite thing on the planet. “You must be good at it. You’re so strong.”
“Climbing’s not just about strength, it’s about strategy too.” Serious words followed by a line of suckling kisses down her throat, complete with a light graze of teeth. “Like this,” he said after kissing his way back to her mouth. “To please you properly will take time. I’ll have to learn what you like. You don’t build a house on faulty foundations.”
Nayna was caught by the blazing intelligence in his eyes as he spoke. She’d known from their first minute together that he was no vacuous hunk; there were too many layers to him, his unsmiling shell hard and armored and fascinating beyond compare. This was not a man you could get to know in a single night, or even in a single year.
Raj was a mystery a woman would only solve if he decided to let her.
Nayna wanted him to let her.
A second after that thought passed through her mind, she mentally shook it away in panicked desperation. If Raj was smart as well as gorgeous and sexy, she might not be able to walk away, and she had to walk away. Her parents were looking for a “suitable” boy for her. So far, that had meant two other accountants, one lawyer, one high school teacher, and one financial advisor. Clean-cut. Besuited. Strictly white collar.
Construction workers need not apply.
Frantic to stop him talking because with each word he spoke, he became ever more attractive, she kissed him. Desperate and needy and wanting him to be hers for this one night.
But Raj was like a force of nature. He took the kiss, stroked his hand back down her body to grip her under one thigh, and said, “Do you like Egypt?”
“What?” Nayna couldn’t think when he had his hand that close to her naked core—a couple more inches and he’d discover her lack of panties. “Egypt?”
He began to move one finger in a stroking movement so close to the crease of her thigh that she held her breath, waiting for him to discover that she was his for the taking. But he stopped. When she opened her eyes, she was caught once again by the dark intensity of his.
“The art gallery has an exhibition on Egyptian art,” he said, serious and intent even though his cheekbones were flushed with color and his pulse hammered in his neck.
Nayna realized she had her hands in his hair. “Kiss me,” she said, because it was all she could say that wouldn’t break the dream.
Pushing back with both hands braced on the wall on either side of her head, he said, “Answer first.” No give in his voice, nothing but a quiet resolve that was like a hurricane.
Nayna loved everything about Egypt. She wanted to visit the pyramids one day, was fascinated by the hieroglyphics and the architecture, had even done a history minor at university just so she could take the classes on Egypt. And none of that mattered because her path was set—and it didn’t involve Raj.
Leaning in, she kissed him again. Nayna might not be a femme fatale, and Raj might be a stubborn rock of a man, but Nayna was good at picking up new things. She’d learned how Raj liked to kiss and now used that new knowledge ruthlessly to distract him. Of course by then his fingers were playing along the crease between her thigh and the heat between her legs and her head was buzzing.