Cheralise clutched her peignoir closer to her heaving bosom and took a step backwards.
“You should not be in here,” she murmured breathlessly at the man looming in the doorway. “My reputation will be ruined.”
“You should have thought of that before you invited me,” Rafe growled.
“I..I don’t know what you’re talking about! I never invited you!” Cheralise took another step backwards, only to be brought up short by the massive, four-poster bed that dominated the room.
Rafe bared his teeth in a feral grin.
“Oh but you did, my sweet. You invited me with your eyes.” He stalked towards her, his own eyes glittering in the firelight. “You invited me with your lips. You invited me–” his eyes swept downward, “–with your delectable body.”
He stood before her now, so close that she could feel his heat.
“Rafe,” she whispered, tilting her head back, “Rafe, please...”
“Yes,” he answered, and took her mouth in a searing kiss.
Cheralise’s world spun, a delicious warmth drugging her senses as his tongue teased along the seam of her lips.
“Let me in, my love,” he rasped against her mouth, pulling her tight against his rigid length. Cheralise moaned, parting her lips, and Rafe plunged his tongue between them, thrusting again and again in some intoxicating, forbidden rhythm that filled Cheralise with a wild yearning. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and clasped them at his nape, drawing him closer–
Boom chicka wow wow.
Cheralise broke the kiss.
“What was that?” she panted, turning her head.
“What was what, my love?” Rafe’s hands were tugging at the ribbons of her peignoir. The wispy silk parted, and his hands slipped inside.
Cheralise whimpered. She could feel Rafe’s smile as his lips pressed hot kisses down her throat, his fingers stroking and playing with her–
Boom chicka wow wow.
“There it is again! It sounds like some sort of...music.”
“The only music I hear is your sighs of pleasure,” Rafe murmured against her neck. He ran a teasing thumb over her nipple.
Boom chicka wow wow.
Rafe lifted his head, eyes wide with surprise.
“Do you hear it, Rafe?” Cheralise whispered. “Isn’t it strange?”
Boom chicka wow wow. Chicka chicka wow wow.
Rafe moved silently to the middle of the room, his hand drifting to the sword at his hip. “I believe the sound is coming from beyond the door.”
Boom chicka wow wow. Chicka chicka wow wow. Whacka whacka whacka whacka chicka chicka wow wow.
Rafe glanced down in horror. His hips were moving back and forth, thrusting rhythmically in time with the strange notes. “What sorcery is this?” he cried, helpless to stop his shimmying pelvis.
A knock sounded, and the door flew open. Beyond it stood a man of indeterminate age, a servant of some kind, garbed in scarlet livery and bearing a large, leathern pouch. On his lip was the most magnificent mustache Cheralise had ever seen. Her heart fluttered.
The servant smiled and held up the leathern pouch.
“Did someone order a pizza?”
Boom chicka mow mow.