Chapter 21
21
M y body trembles with each deep thrust, Raphael’s chest to my back, his breath hot on my neck. I bury my face in the pillow, trying and failing to muffle the sounds he pulls from me.
How many times has he made me come already? I lost count somewhere after the fifth or sixth time, my mind too hazy with pleasure to keep track of anything beyond the slick slide of his cock inside me.
“Raph.” My gasp comes out ragged as my inner muscles clench weakly around him, body reacting to his possession despite my exhaustion. “I can’t—not again?—”
His teeth graze the shell of my ear. “You can. One more time for me, baby.”
His palm slides around my hip, fingers wrapping around my aching dick. I whimper at the contact, oversensitive and raw. My body can’t decide if it wants to thrust into his grip or flinch away.
“You’re still so hard for me,” he purrs, his deep timbre vibrating through me. “Your body knows what it wants.”
My Heat ended two hours ago. I can tell by the way my thoughts are clearing, by how the desperate, clawing need has subsided to a dull throb rather than the all-consuming fire it was before.
But Raphael hasn’t stopped. He said one more time after my Heat first broke.
Then one more.
And one more after that.
Three days. We’ve been going at it for three days, only stopping for water and the occasional protein bar that Raphael forced into my mouth between rounds. Three days of begging and screaming his name and having him fill me over and over until I dripped with it.
His cock hits that perfect spot inside me, and I cry out, clutching the sheets. My head tips back as pleasure courses through me, sharper now without the haze of Heat to dull the edges.
“That’s it.” Raphael’s rhythm never falters, the slap of skin against skin filling the room alongside our heavy breathing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You always do.”
His teeth find my new Mark, where the flesh is tender at my nape. Not hard enough to break through again, but enough to send lightning bolts of pleasure-pain shooting down my spine.
My back arches, pushing my ass into his thrust as I howl at the sensation.
“Mine.” His fingers tighten around my dick, stroking with purpose now. “Always mine.”
The combined sensations of his cock inside me and his hand working me over causes my entire body to tremble. Then his teeth find the Mark again, and I’m done for.
My body shudders as pleasure rolls through me, and what comes out of my dick is so clear it resembles water. I’ve got nothing left to give after three days, but Raphael keeps proving he knows my body better than I do. My muscles lock up, thighs trembling as I clench around Raphael’s cock.
“Fuck, fuck, Avery.” Raphael’s rhythm falters. “The way you squeeze me when you come. So fucking perfect.”
He thrusts deep one final time, his body going rigid as his cock pulses, the flood of his release adding to the mess he’s already made of me. The knowledge he’s filling me up again, marking me from the inside, sends another aftershock of pleasure through my system.
We collapse together, his weight pressing me into the mattress, neither of us possessing the energy to move. His cock softens inside me, but he doesn’t pull out, keeping us connected as our breathing returns to normal.
I feel hollowed out, emptied of everything but sensation. My brain feels fuzzy around the edges, thoughts coming slow and thick as honey. Raphael’s hand strokes up and down my side, a gesture more comforting than sexual now.
He kisses the back of my sweaty neck. “You with me?”
I grunt in response, not capable of actual words yet. Every muscle in my body aches with bone-deep satisfaction. The sheets beneath us are ruined, soaked with slick, cum, and sweat, and the scent of sex combined with our pheromones saturates the air.
Raphael shifts us onto our sides, still connected, his arm wrapped around my waist. I take in what I can of the safe house bedroom. Empty water bottles litter the nightstand and floor, while protein bar wrappers lie scattered like confetti. Our clothes are mixed among them, and a damp washcloth hangs from the knob of the open door.
My throat clicks when I swallow. I should drink some water. I should clean up. I should ask Raphael what happens now. But all I can do is rest in his embrace, savoring the rhythmic beat of his heart on my back.
I lift my trembling arm to study the faint bruise encircling my wrist from the handcuff, but I can’t remember when Raphael released me. When he trusted me not to run again.
The past three days blur together in my memory, with only fragments standing out. Raphael’s face above me, his features shadowed with possessive hunger. The moment he sank his teeth into my neck and reclaimed me. The way he whispered my name like a prayer when I begged him not to let me go.
I remember submitting to him completely, giving up the control I’ve clutched onto since he left. I had allowed myself to be vulnerable again with the man who shattered my heart. I should be terrified of how fast I fell back into this with him.
Instead, peace settles over me, like pieces clicking back into place after being misaligned for too long.
Raphael’s arms tighten around me. “You okay?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The truth is, I’m not sure if I’m okay. Not sure what this means for us, for my business, or for his family. All I know is that, with his body curled around mine and his Mark throbbing pleasantly on my neck, I feel more right than I have in years.
When Raphael finally withdraws from my body, a warm flood follows, trickling down my thigh. The loss of him leaves me aching from emptiness after being filled for days. I collapse onto my stomach, too exhausted to care about the mess I lie in.
Behind me, the mattress shifts as Raphael moves, and then his warm hand palms my ass cheek, spreading me open. “Look at you. So loose and sloppy. Begging to be filled again.”
I bury my face deeper into the pillow, heat rising to my cheeks.
“You’re dripping with my cum.” Fingers slide up my crack to my entrance, pushing his cum back inside me.
I jerk at the contact, oversensitive nerves firing warning signals through my brain. “Raph—” I protest, the word catching in my throat as his fingers thrust deeper, circling inside me. “I can’t—it’s too much?—”
“Shh,” he soothes, but the hungry rumble that rises from him raises prickles on my skin.
His fingers withdraw, only to be replaced by the blunt head of his cock at my entrance. He’s hard again, his renewed interest nudging my abused hole.
“No way.” I twist to glare back at him. “Are you serious right now?”
His pupils are blown wide as he stares at my ass, and the possessiveness on his face sends a shiver down my spine.
I push at his hand, trying to create some distance between us. My body feels like one giant, pleasurable ache. “You better not have gotten me pregnant.”
Raphael’s expression shifts, and he pulls me back into his arms instead of continuing. His cock still rests against me, but he doesn’t try to enter me again.
“Don’t worry.” He kisses my shoulder. “I got a vasectomy, remember? After we decided we didn’t want to bring children into our world.”
I turn in his arms to face him, wincing at the twinge of discomfort from my overused muscles. “Those things can fix themselves. When did you last have a checkup?”
Raphael’s silence speaks volumes, and his eyes slide away from mine, focusing somewhere over my shoulder.
“Are you kidding me?” I push at his chest. “You irresponsible asshole! You’ve been pumping me full for three days straight!”
“I’ll get checked right away.” He catches my hands and brings them to his lips. “But it’s been years since the procedure. The chances of spontaneous reversal after this long are practically non-existent.”
“Practically,” I echo, not convinced.
The idea of pregnancy has never been in my life plan. I’ve built my empire on ruthlessness. A baby would complicate everything.
We lie in silence for a few moments, my mind racing despite my exhaustion. There’s a bigger question hovering between us, one I’ve been avoiding since my mind started to clear from the Heat haze.
“About what you said earlier.” I focus on his collarbone. “When you promised to stay with me this time, what did you mean?”
He tenses. “What do you think I meant?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “Are you hoping for scheduled meetups? Heat partners with benefits? Weekend getaways when you can escape your family obligations?”
His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face up until I have no choice but to look at him. “I’m not doing that kind of relationship. When I said I’m not leaving you, I meant it. I’m not leaving. Not for meetings, not for my family, not for anything.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “How would this even work? You’re a Rockford. Your family?—”
“I already spoke to Aaiden,” he interrupts, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “We agreed that the best course of action is for Raphael Rockford to die.”
The words hit me like a physical blow as I remember what Raphael looked like on the ground, pale and still, not breathing. The agonizing pain that tore through me as our bond dissolved. The emptiness that followed, like a piece of my soul had been ripped away.
My breathing quickens, my hands grabbing at his shoulders.
“No, baby, it’s okay,” he soothes, pulling me closer as I start to hyperventilate. “Not for real. I’m sorry, I should have phrased this better.”
His hand strokes my hair as I struggle to control my breathing. “I meant for the sake of social media, for the public. We can have a funeral and everything. Let the world believe Raphael Rockford died in some tragic accident.”
My panic subsides, replaced by confusion. “But your family…”
“I’m not going to give up seeing them,” he explains. “But I’ll give up being a Rockford on paper and in public. I’ll change my name and create a new identity. Whatever it takes.”
I pull back to study his face, searching for any sign of doubt. “You’d walk away from your family? From everything they’ve done to clean their name?”
“For you? Yes.” His answer is immediate, without hesitation. “And I understand that you’re the boss now, Avery. I understand I’ll have to follow your orders and work under your command. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you again.”
The weight of his words settles over me. This is Raphael Rockford, second son of one of the most powerful families in the country, offering to submit to my authority, to walk away from his birthright, to fake his own death.
All to be with me.
“You realize,” I say, a trace of amusement slipping through, “that you’ll need to beg Lena, Jace, and Rico. They’re not exactly going to throw a parade for you after what went down when you walked away the first time.”
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll do it. I’ll drop to my knees and plead, if that’s what it takes.”
The image of my proud Alpha on his knees before my crew almost brings on a laugh. But the sincerity in his stare stops me.
“You mean it.” Hope begins to take root. “You’d give it all up.”
“I already lost the only thing that truly mattered when I walked away from you.” He cups my cheek. “I’m not making that mistake again.”
Warmth unfurls in my chest, an emotion I’ve kept locked away for years. Trust? It’s too scary to put a name on it yet.
Raphael leans in to rest his forehead on mine. “Let me prove it to you. Let me earn back your trust.”
His lips find mine, soft and questioning, and I answer by opening to him. The kiss deepens, slow and thorough, different from the desperate clash of teeth and tongues during my Heat.
A vow.
A pledge to new beginnings.
As I slide my hand up to cup the back of his neck, a harsh, blaring sound slices through the quiet as the security alarm alerts us to someone trying to breach the safe house.
We spring apart, instantly alert despite our exhaustion. Adrenaline floods my system, washing away the pleasant soreness and lingering pleasure.
“Where’s your gun?” I demand, rolling toward the edge of the bed.
“Still in the front room with your weapons,” Raphael admits. “I didn’t want to risk you shooting me before I had a chance to win you back.”
I shake my head, equal parts exasperated and impressed by his confidence. “You still need to grovel more before you’ve won me back, Rockford.”
“I will. After we deal with this.” He reaches for his pants. “Where are the bedroom weapons stashed?”
“There’s one under the bed.” I yank on my pants with steady hands. “Strapped to the bottom of the frame.”
Raphael drops to the floor, reaching beneath the bed while I move to the nightstand, pulling it away from the wall to reveal the hidden compartment behind it. My fingers close around cold metal as the unmistakable sound of splintering wood echoes from the front room.
We’ve been infiltrated.