Chapter 25 Aisling
AISLING
The searing heat of Raf’s lips on mine is enough to obliterate my sanity.
I need it desperately after the icy chill that had settled into my bones.
I’ve never watched a man die before, never seen the life drain from someone’s eyes, and it’s deeply rattling to realize that it would have been me bleeding out on the sidewalk if Raf hadn’t saved me.
And now, for a second time, it feels like he’s bringing me back to life as his strong arms twine around me, holding me in one piece when I’m dangerously close to falling apart.
I’ve never needed someone’s touch as desperately as I need his right now, and it’s like he can read my mind as his hands roam over me, keeping me safely trapped against his strong, steady chest. I don’t even care that they’re bloody.
All I want is to feel him, to know we’re both here, together, alive.
I came far too close to losing it all, and the realization has me clinging to everything I most desperately want—consequences be damned.
Against all my better judgment, I’m falling for Raf. Again.
Watching him step in to save my life without a second’s hesitation made me realize that, no matter our past, he’s the kind of man I want to be with—intelligent, ambitious, loyal, brave.
He might still be in love with his dead wife, but the way he stepped in to protect me feels like it’s changed everything.
I was already developing feelings for him after watching how sweet he is with Riley, but now, I’m hopelessly on my way to falling in love.
I can’t keep denying my attraction to him, and when his eyes dropped to my lips just now—that’s all it took to know that at least part of him wants me too.
Tonight, I’m done fighting it.
Done worrying about the broken pieces of my heart that might come as a result.
If I’ve learned anything from what happened outside that restaurant, it’s that life’s far too short and we don’t know which breath might be our last.
So I don’t want to waste another minute of the time I have.
Sliding my hands up Raf’s firm chest, I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into the kiss as we continue to kneel on the bedroom floor.
His hands trail down the curve of my waist, finding my hips, then thighs, and I spread my legs, straddling him as he pulls me onto his lap.
A soft gasp rushes from me when I feel the urgency of his arousal, his hard cock pressing against the sensitive peak of my thighs.
Raf groans, his tongue delving between my lips as he deepens the kiss, his fingers pulling me more firmly against him.
I rock forward unapologetically, rubbing against his hard length, and the whispered words are leaving my lips before I even make the conscious choice to say them. “God, I want you inside me.”
Raf tenses, his muscles locking in place as he freezes, then slowly draws back.
It comes dangerously close to feeling like rejection, but when our gazes clash, I can see the unbridled desire burning in his hazel depths.
“What does that mean for our… agreement?” he rasps, the husky edge to his voice making fresh heat coil low in my stomach.
I know what he’s really asking—how will sex affect our fake relationship? Our last night of passion put us on far shakier ground, and I’m sure he’s not eager to revisit that mistake.
But it wasn’t the sex that made me pull away.
It was the thought that he was picturing another woman while he was with me.
And tonight, I know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s me he wants.
“Can’t we just forget about it for a night?” I ask. “I want you. I need you.”
“And you won’t regret it in the morning?” His eyes search mine, sharp and filled with an emotion I can’t quite identify.
“I won’t,” I promise.
He doesn’t hesitate as he kisses me again, his lips claiming mine with the same sense of urgency as I feel.
Then we’re undressing each other, Raf’s hands guiding my peacoat over my shoulders as I do the same to his blue suit.
His fingers whisper across the back of my neck as he undoes the halter-top dress, and it pools around my hips, exposing my breasts.
Then his mouth is warm and wet as he leans down to suction one nipple into his mouth, and his arm snakes around my waist as he lifts me, bringing me to my feet.
The dress whispers across my hips, gathering on the floor at my feet, and I arch against him, shocked to find we’re the perfect height as he kneels to worship my breasts with his lips and tongue.
I comb my fingers into his hair, mussing it as I pull him closer, moaning at the pulses of electricity that crackle up my spine and down to my core.
He releases me with a soft pop, his lips curving into a wicked smirk as he rises slowly to tower over me once more.
I’m not a small woman—average height, really—but next to Raf, I feel tiny, fragile.
And yet so incredibly safe.
Trapping my lower lip between my teeth, I go to work on the buttons of his shirt, pushing him back toward the bathroom as I do.
He concedes easily, kicking off his shoes and unbuckling his belt without regard for the blood on his hands.
He doesn’t seem to care if he ruins his clothes—but my skin, he hasn’t touched me since he laid me bare, and I’m aching to feel his warm, strong hands all over my body.
“Into the shower, dolce,” Raf purrs, and I note the change in nickname with mild curiosity.
He hasn’t called me that since before he learned my last name, and it strikes a cord deep inside me.
I’m tempted to ask why—suddenly curious about what his other nickname for me means—but I’m too eager to obey his command.
Turning away from him, I start the shower, then glance coyly back over my shoulder at him as I hook my thumbs inside the elastic of my panties—and slowly guide them down my thighs.
Air hisses between his teeth as he watches me bend over, exposing myself to him fully as I guide the flimsy fabric past my heels.
“Christ, Aisling,” he murmurs, shoving his pants and boxers down without tearing his eyes away from me.
Smiling, I unbuckle the straps of my shoes, then straighten to step into the shower.
He follows, and the water runs red as he washes his hands of the would-be assassin’s blood.
Swallowing hard, I try not to look, keeping my eyes on Raf’s face as I reach up to pull the bobby pins from my hair.
The way he watches me makes the act feel almost erotic, and a pulse throbs between my thighs as I let my dresses fall loose around my shoulders as I shake them out.
Then he’s on me once more, his now-clean hands claiming me with renewed vigor as he pulls me to him.
His cock stands thick and hard between us, pressing adamantly against my abdomen as he leans in to capture my lips.
Then his hand is cupping the back of my head as he molds my body to his.
I can feel the rough tape of Raf’s bandage scraping against the small of my back, but it only awakens my senses as I lean into him, fingers pressing into the taut muscles that line his spine.
“Please, Raf,” I whisper into his mouth, my body throbbing to feel him inside me.
Pressing one knee between my thighs, Raf guides them open as he leans me back against the shower wall.
Then he’s reaching down, his fingers finding my slick seam, and he slowly, languorously parts my folds.
I moan, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as he gathers my arousal and swirls it around my sensitive clit.
“God, I love that sound,” he murmurs, his lips leaving mine to brush against the shell of my ear. “Moan for me again, dolce.”
I do as the adamancy of his fingers intensifies, and then he’s pressing two of them inside me.
My walls clench around the sudden intrusion, and I shudder with the intense wave of pleasure that washes through my core.
“Is this what you want?” he teases, nipping at the lobe of my ear.
And while it feels dangerously good when he touches me like this, he knows damn well what I want. But I’m not playing his games—not tonight.
“I want you to fuck me, Rafael Chiaroscuro,” I say, wrapping my fingers around his swollen cock and giving it one long stroke to emphasize my point.
His eyes slide closed, that tendon popping in his jaw as he clenches his teeth, and a low growl rises up his throat. “You sure know how to say the sweetest things to me,” he rasps.
Then his fingers are sliding out of my, ghosting down the inside of my thigh to hook around the back of my knee, and he hikes my leg up around his elbow, fully exposing me.
“Put me where you want me, focosa,” he commands, rocking his hips forward to make my job easier.
I do so without hesitation, gripping the base of his impressive cock as I line him up with my throbbing entrance.
We groan together as he plunges inside of me with one deep thrust, and I grasp the back of his neck to keep me anchored as traps me against the shower wall, rocking steadily inside me.
God, it feels incredible to be so full of him, to be stretched to my limits and claimed without mercy.
I’ve never been with a man besides Raf, but I don’t see how anyone could possibly compare, and if I weren’t so overcome by lust and desire, the realization might be devastating.
Because this is all I want.
This is all I’ll ever want.
And I don’t know how long I’ll get to call it mine.
But tonight, I intend to revel in every glorious second of it.
My breaths come hard and fast as Raf keeps my one knee pinned between us, my back pressed against the wall as he braces against it with his other arm.
His tattooed chest brushes against my hard nipples, stimulating me in all my most sensitive places at once as the base of his cock slides against my clit, his swollen tip driving deep to find that hidden spot inside me.
“Oh, God, Raf!” I gasp, knees weak, legs quivering as I feel my climax slowly starting to build.
“That’s right, focosa. Show me what a good girl you can be and come all over my cock.”
It feels so good to be this intensely alive after my near-death experience, and the pleasure of it is enough to make my head spin. Nothing has ever felt so transcendent, so impossibly euphoric.
My walls ripple, my body clenching with each passionate thrust, and I let my head fall back as my orgasm rips through me with explosive force.
Crying out, I come hard.