Page 39

My nails scrape up his shaft as I pump my hands up and down it, squeezing the head and darting my tongue out to lick off the precum beading at the tip.

His dick is so thick, lovely, and fuckable.

“Do you like the taste of us together, Elise?” he rumbles above me, his hand twining in my hair, tugging even harder. My scalp burns, sending tendrils of pleasure licking down my spine.

“Yes,” I moan, moving a hand to settle on his muscular thigh as I hold the base, gagging on him with a lurid sound that makes his next words tremble.

“You’re such a good girl like this.” He groans. “So damn obedient. If only you’d listen to me without my dick to tease you. Now be my best girl and use your teeth.”

My molars scrape over his flesh as I choke and sputter around him, taking him all the way into my throat, as far as he’ll go.

My eyes burn, tears spilling over, and I’m rewarded with his hand loosening in my hair to slide over my ear.

He rolls his thumb and forefinger over my lobe as his other hand cups my breast, toying with the barbell.

My thighs clench, and I whimper, desperate for more.

“Aww, baby.” He tsks, his tone taunting as he lowers his face over mine. “Are you horny? Do you need to be filled up?”

I keep his cock in my mouth, nodding around it, my eyes pleading with him.

A grin spreads his lips, and he nods. “Lie down.” He flicks his chin to the rug in front of the lit fireplace.

I hollow my cheeks, dragging my lips over him once more from base to tip before my mouth leaves him with a filthy popping sound.

My tongue darts out, licking my lips as I scoot back, crawling to the carpet a few feet behind me.

He leans further into his chair, his legs spread completely, and his hands rest on the armrests, wrapping around the smooth wood.

“Spread your legs, and finger yourself. I want a show,” he demands, tilting his head to the side.

A whimper tumbles past my lips, need so potent I might combust, consuming my every action. It allows my knees to fall to either side obediently before trailing my hand down my abdomen, slipping my fingers over my clit, rubbing the overly sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fingers in your pussy, Elise. Or can you not understand basic commands?” he asks, lazily stroking himself. His harsh tone makes my mouth water.

I roll my eyes at him, a heavy dash of defiance rippling through me, but I do as I’m told, slipping a finger inside, and then another when he quirks a brow at me.

I know I’ll be rewarded for my obedience, and I’m willing to do anything to feel something other than the gnawing hollowness or the all-consuming burden of too many emotions that run rampant inside me.

My core spasms around my fingers, my head falling back on a loud moan. “God, I wish it were your cock inside me,” I tell him, my chest heaving.

He pushes out of his chair abruptly, the wooden feet scraping across the hard floors as he stalks toward me.

His dark eyes burn into me before flicking to the crackling fire to my left. I continue pumping my fingers as I track his every movement.

Rafael grabs a fire iron from the stand of tools on the hearth. He angles the pointed tip at me, trailing the cool metal over my heated flesh, a stark contrast from the smokey heat warming my skin from the fire mere feet away.

A trail of goosebumps follows the tip of the metal. He rests it over my collarbone, his eyes raking over me.

“Don’t forget your safe word,” he whispers, turning with the poker in his hand. He opens the glass doors, shoving the poker between the blazing logs.

Fear threatens to grip me, but the most deeply depraved parts of me are cheering in elation.

He doesn’t treat me like a piece of glass, ready to shatter at any moment.

Not even after seeing how fragile my mind can sometimes be.

Not knowing this whole arrangement could go horribly, horribly wrong for us both at any moment.

He pulls the hot poker from the fire and holds it carefully over my abdomen, allowing it to hover just above my left hip bone.

“You’re so gorgeous, Elise,” he praises, and my fingers slow as the heat from the hot metal grows nearer to my flesh. “You do exactly as I say, and the best part is that, for once , I know you want to. It’s quite the sight to see, I’ll admit.”

My lips part, my eyes honing in on his face as my abdomen tightens, waiting for the searing feeling of my burning flesh to overcome me, but the moment never arrives.

He pulls the metal away, tossing it down on the brick hearth. It hits with a loud clatter, and he falls to his knees, reaching out to cup my cheek. His thumb strokes my bottom lip as he watches me, taking in every last detail of my face before his lips finally meet mine.

His movements are slow; there’s nothing rushed about this kiss. His tongue flicks out to run along the seam of my lips, his angle on my mouth changing as he tilts his head, demanding entry.

My mouth parts, and I sigh into him; his tongue dips in to tangle with mine, swirling over the tip of my own. The taste of mint coats my mouth as I moan into his.

He pulls away first, his hands still cupping my cheeks as he pants above me. “That was a test,” he whispers.

“I’ve always hated school,” I reply, the words hoarse.

“Then you’ll be happy to know that you passed. You really are happy to be at my mercy, aren’t you?”

I gulp, uncomfortable with his words because they speak of a truth that I’ve not come to terms with yet. “I can’t wait any longer,” he says, his voice quiet and strained. “I need to fill you up.”

I nod emphatically. “I need that too,” I whine.

He lowers himself down my body, ducking his head and stealing a taste from between my legs. My thighs clamp around his head, and he chuckles deeply, the sound vibrating through my body.

His fingers wrap around my thighs, pulling them apart to release him.

He’s smiling now, and it’s brilliant. His white teeth glimmer under the dim lights, the fire beside us reflecting in his dark eyes as he stares down at me, cataloguing every inch of my body as if committing it to memory for when this is over and we return to the before .

Where neither of us is allowed to yearn for the other, where we have to find something or someone else to fill the void.

He draws in a ragged breath before pushing up and sauntering away. He calls over his shoulder before I have a chance to ask. “Just grabbing a condom.”

Rafael rummages around in his bag before returning with the foil packet, tearing it open with his teeth, and my mouth waters at the sight. He sheaths himself in one smooth movement before tossing the packet to the ground as he stands between my legs and lowers himself over me.

The tip of his cock presses against me, my core tightening with need. His broad shoulders loom over me, making me feel so small beneath him.

I’m by no means a small woman, but Rafael is massive.

His arms are wide and corded. He notches further into me, leaning in to plant a hand beside my head, the other wrapping tightly around my throat, his biceps bulging.

I wrap my legs around his trim waist, pulling him in further as his eyes latch onto mine. He pushes into me all the way to the hilt, and the air leaves my lungs on a moan.

“You’re so fucking big,” I cry, not meaning to boost his ego. It’s just a fact.

He smirks down at me. “I am,” he agrees, lowering all of his weight onto me, crushing me to the ground as he holds his hips still. “Tell me what you want, Elise.” His voice is barely above a whisper, his lips tickling the shell of my ear.

“I want—” I try to answer, but his hand tightens around my throat.

“What was that?” he asks, condescension dripping in his tone like the arousal dripping between my thighs. He rolls his hips once, only enough for my back to arch and my lungs to burn with the need for more oxygen.

“I want—” I try again, but he only tightens his grip, a wicked grin curving his lips, and annoyance flares through me, heating my chest.

“I can’t hear you,” he teases in a sing-song manner that causes me to lash out. My hand on his chest works to push him away from me just enough, and when his face is hovering over mine instead of pressed against me, my other hand snaps out, flying across his face with a loud thwack.

My palm burns as his head rears back, his lips parting, but his grip loosens slightly.

His eyes blaze, crinkling at the edges and narrowing, and his jaw slacks as he rubs at it.

Revulsion stirs inside me— I can’t believe I just smacked him.

The initial shock wears off and he finds my face again, groaning loudly, ducking his head to capture my mouth with his, and all regret is wiped clean from my conscience.

I wind my arms around his neck, fingers twining in the short dark hairs at the base of his skull as his hips roll and swirl. He plunges into me; the slapping of our hips meeting is an erotic chorus sounding throughout the suite.

He sits up, biting his lower lip, taking my hands in his.

He slides my palms over his tight muscles, his tanned pecs, and down his abs before leaning back over top of me.

They’re the definition of washboard, and if this were the nineteenth century, I’d have him out on the porch with soap and water doing my laundry.

He pins my hands above my head, and I earn the immense pleasure of watching those abs as they tighten with his every movement.

Rafael drops his mouth to my chest, tugging a nipple between his lips. “Rafa,” I moan, wriggling under him as his hips slow.

“That’s it, sunshine. Take your punishment,” he says, his voice low and smooth despite having my entire tit between his lips.

“Punishment?” I question, bucking my hips for more friction, the rough carpet scraping along my shoulder blades. “ Oh, mon Dieu ,” I moan out, my neck arching, eyes rolling back.

“Did you forget you just hit me?” he asks, tilting his head with a raised brow.