Prologue #4
When I’m facing him once more, he tugs me to him.
Our lips clash in a fierce kiss that feels impossibly more urgent than before.
If my heart were beating any faster, I think it might burst, and while the pace Raf sets terrifies me, it also makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.
Long fingers curl beneath the hem of my thigh-high dress, which has already ridden up until it’s barely covering me.
And as Raf continues to lay claim to my lips, he drags the soft, stretchy fabric I borrowed from Hannah’s closet—without her permission, but with every intention of giving it back—slowly up my body, revealing my curves inch by inch.
Unwilling to be the only one naked, and aching to see the physique he’s hiding beneath his perfectly tailored suit, I push Raf’s jacket back over his shoulders, then get to work unbuttoning his dress shirt.
He works with me, stripping our clothing with a frenzied kind of excitement that burns away any traces of my shyness, all the while laying claim to my lips.
The last shreds of my modesty disappear as I step out of my simple panties—and not a stitch of fabric separates us when Raf pulls me into his arms.
The dim lighting and sensual music that fill the room do little to draw my attention from the lean, hard man who backs me against the glass wall, and I gasp at the cold that bites my skin.
It contrasts deliciously with the heat burning from his chest.
Curling his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, Raf tugs my head back, and I groan as his lips suction against the tender skin at the curve of my throat.
“I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming my name,” he breathes, his mouth whispering across my prickling flesh.
And somehow, even though we’ve only just met, I believe him.
Everything about Raf radiates sensuality. Pleasure. Erotic bliss.
I’m naked, utterly exposed. I’ve never been so vulnerable, yet I feel dangerously safe in his arms.
No arranged marriage my parents broker could ever give me this kind of passion.
If I must take a husband for my family someday, I at least want this one night—this one memory to call my own.
And I’m glad it’s with this stranger I barely know.
“Are you ready for me, dolce?” Raf murmurs, his hand sliding between my thighs, despite the fact that I have them pressed firmly together in an effort to temper my excitement.
I cry out as his fingers stroke between my folds, the sensation foreign and sinfully pleasurable.
Air hisses between Raf’s teeth, and he towers over me, his eyes burning into mine as he braces his forearm against the glass beside my head. “God, you’re so wet for me,” he rasps. “No need for foreplay with you, is there, my eager young thing?”
Though I have no idea what that means—and I definitely don’t want to say as much and confirm my naivete—I bite my lip and shake my head no because that seems like the correct answer as I stare up into his fierce, godlike features through my lashes.
A wicked grin curls his lips, his eyes burning with anticipation. “Then I’ll have more time to make you come. Because I intend to do so all night long.”
My body throbs, my heartbeat roaring in my ears as he scoops me up, wrapping my legs around his hips.
I don’t have time for second thoughts.
Don’t have time to panic.
I barely have time to grasp the fact that this is happening.
I’m about to lose my virginity.
With a complete stranger.
An Italian, no less.
God, my parents would be furious if they ever found out.
My brothers would lose their ever-loving minds.
Good thing I don’t plan on telling them.
Ever.
Still, a twinge of guilt tightens in my stomach.
But before I can change my mind, Raf’s thick tip is sliding between my folds. It’s like iron wrapped in silk, and time stops as I feel him align with my entrance.
He feels massive.
There’s no way in hell he’s going to fit.
My heart stops, my body tensing.
His lips come crushing down on mine as he thrusts inside me with astonishing force.
Sharp pain slices through me. I feel as though I’m tearing in half, and a cry rips from me as he fills my body, stretching me so completely that I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive it.
I shudder violently, my heart stuttering as my core clenches against the foreign intrusion.
I feel like I can’t breathe, can’t move for fear of making it hurt worse.
Hot tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I bite back a sob as I cling to Raf, who goes deathly still against me.
An agonized groan rips from his throat, vibrating against my lips as it escapes him.
“Fuck, Aisling,” he grits, his voice sounding almost as pained as the searing heat between my thighs.
“You’re so damn tight. I didn’t think… I’m just used to…
” He trails off, leaning back so he can look me in the eyes.
His Adam’s apple bobs, his nostrils flaring as he rakes in a deep breath, and he shakes his head.
“It’s no excuse. I should have warned you that I’m larger than average. Are you alright?”
Now that I’ve had a second to wrap my mind around the deep and unfamiliar penetration, the pain is starting to ebb.
And in its place, a new throbbing anticipation soothes my electrified nerve endings.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I nod jerkily, trying to convince myself at the same time as I do him. Because even if it hurts like hell, I don’t want to stop.
Not yet.
And I’m definitely not about to admit that it probably hurts more because I’m a virgin.
I’ve heard the first time can be a bit uncomfortable.
I guess I just happened to find a guy whose size might not be ideal for it.
Heat warms his eyes, which shine hazel in the soft golden light, and when he leans in this time, his kiss is slower, softer, and shockingly sensual.
His tongue teases between my lips, distracting me from the pulsing ache and making my heart flutter.
Then his fingers press into my flesh as he gently rolls his hips, sliding out of me ever so slightly before pressing back in.
Each tiny movement sends shockwaves rippling through my system, and I can feel the tension in his muscles as he demonstrates a massive amount of restraint.
But with each slow, steady rock, my body starts to relax, my muscles unwinding.
My core pulses with his rhythm.
My clit zings with pleasure each time he grinds forward, pressing my hips into the glass behind me.
And when he buries himself deep inside me, I can’t help but moan.
“God, you feel so good,” he groans against my lips.
All I can do is whimper in response.
Because the way he moves inside me feels better than I ever could have dreamed.
I feel so intensely full, so overwhelmed with sensation, and so gloriously alive.
Raf grunts, his arm tightening around my waist as he starts to rock harder, his restraint seeming to fray at the seams.
The mouthwatering friction that follows makes my core tighten and my breath catch.
Our lips part, only for his to find the curve of my neck, and I tilt my head, eyes rolling back as goosebumps erupt across my flesh.
“You’re delicious,” he breathes against my throat, as if he’s just confirmed a suspicion. “So sinfully sweet, I could eat you up.” And he runs his tongue along the fluttering pulse of my jugular before lightly suctioning the sensitive skin against his lips.
I feel utterly possessed, helpless to do anything but cling to his broad shoulders and ride the waves of pleasure washing through me like a tsunami.
I’m sure I should be doing something in kind, something to make him feel as good as I do with his lips and teeth softly teasing my skin.
But I can’t seem to string a thought together long enough to come up with anything.
The cries of pleasure that rush from me crescendo as I lose all sense of self-control.
A ball of tension builds deep in my core, pulsing as it nears the snapping point.
My nipples are hard pebbles and entirely too sensitive as they brush against the searing heat of Raf’s chest.
God, it feels so good—too good.
It makes me want to scream and cry and laugh all at once.
But when I open my mouth, only lascivious moans come out.
“Raf!” I gasp, my eyes flying wide as a tingling relief rushes beneath my skin, flooding into my extremities.
I feel like I’m hovering on the precipice of something monumental.
Something life-changing.
With my back pressed against the glass, the city sprawling beneath me, my feet dangling in the air, I could almost fly.
“Come for me, dolce,” he commands, his hot breath whispering across my skin before he lightly bites down on the lobe of my ear.
And as he thrusts inside me, I lose my ever-loving mind.
After he took my virginity against the glass wall, Raf proceeded to carry me to the bed, where he laid claim to every inch of me with his mouth, his hands, his cock.
He fucked me in positions I never even dreamed of, the pleasure only seeming to intensify with each consecutive orgasm.
I lost track of how many times he made me come somewhere after five.
And I suppose it doesn’t matter.
Because all I can think about is each earth-shattering release as it obliterates me more powerfully than the last.
The guy has the stamina of a horse—and the creativity of an artist.
If this is the one night of pleasure I get to claim as my own, I’m glad it’s with him. Because he’s certainly making the most of it.
We’ve been at it for hours.
My strength is spent, my muscles quivering uncontrollably from the amount of exertion we’ve put out.
With my cheek pressed against the soft sheets, my ass in the air, my hard nipples sliding farther up the mattress with each punishing thrust, I know I’m not going to last much longer.
The pleasure might be mind-blowing, but I can feel the slow-building ache of chafed skin at the peak of my thighs.
My body isn’t used to this kind of punishment—or pleasure.
Still, Raf’s fingers circle my clit, wringing every ounce of bliss from me with expertise.
“One more time, dolce,” he coaxes. “I want to feel that sweet pussy milk my cock one more time.”