Chapter 27
A lexandra
In silence, we wound through the dark countryside, back to the cottage, not speaking in the living room where we kicked off our shoes, but moving together, like clouds rolling into a storm front, with lightning crackling and thunder shaking the land.
Inside the bedroom, with the lamp on and the curtains closed, Raphael finally relented.
This was something significant. Some dark secret that was hurting him. I perched on the bed and watched him pace from the window to the wall.
“I’m sorry about that.”
I didn’t want him sorry. I wanted him to let me in. I stayed quiet.
His gaze flicked to me. “I told ye about our father being a terrible person. In the winter, he tried to kidnap Ariel.”
Of all the things I’d expected him to say, that hadn’t crossed my mind. “Oh my God.”
Raphael dug his fingers into his hair. “Not only that. Jackson, who I’d arranged to protect my sister while I was away at flight school, was injured and abducted by Dad’s pet assassin. Obviously Jax and Ariel both survived, but one slight change in history and I could have lost them both. Before that, when we lived with him in California, he regularly hurt Gabe. And me.” He added the last two words quieter, as if an afterthought. “He thinks with his fists when it comes to those closest to him. With outsiders, he doesn’t hold back on his tactics to intimidate and control.”
My heart ached. Of course, I’d suspected something bad of a man they’d run from, but hearing him describe how domestic abuse turned to something deadlier sent a chill down my spine.
“What did Ariel mean that she has something on him?”
“A whole dossier of his backstabbing. If shared, his Mafia business associates will tear him apart.”
“You don’t think that threat will hold him off.” I didn’t ask it as a question. The answer was obvious.
Raphael’s head slashed once in a no . “It has done for a while, but the moment something goes bad for him, what’s to stop him thinking ‘fuck it’? Where does he turn but to the kids who escaped him? To Scotland, which was his homeland, and his first grandchild who he’ll see as the future of his enterprises. He is poison, and from the moment Gabe and Effie announced their pregnancy, the thought has been eating me alive.”
I couldn’t tell him everything would be okay. My words would be meaningless against a situation I could barely understand. I knew crappy families, though. “Gabe and Effie think the risk is worth it.”
“I know. I’m happy for them. I struggle to feel the same. Not while he’s still breathing.”
“You’re doing enough worrying for everyone.”
“Who better than a man whose job it is to analyse risks and protect against them?”
Pieces clicked into place. The flying, his strength, his reaction to threat. “You turned yourself into the trained man who can defend against everything your father can throw at your family.”
“Because he’s a real danger.”
Which brought me neatly back to his parting words when we left Gabe and Effie’s house. “So you’ll stay single forever, when your brother and sister are both happily paired off? While they have kids and settle down, you’ll remain alone?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, his gaze on the floor. “Yes. Ariel’s right. I don’t have girlfriends. If ever I consider it, I remember the reasons why it’s a bad idea. What if he finds out and uses them to hurt me? I’d never forgive myself.” His gaze lifted to mine, pinning me with the weight of a thousand sleepless nights he must’ve had over this. “What if he discovers the famous woman his second son is hanging out with and sees the opportunity of his lifetime?”
I flinched at the description. The easy dismissal of how we were far more to each other than two people hanging out. I hadn’t imagined it. The way he looked at me. The late-night chats and the fever in his kiss. Raphael was anything but casual.
“What if that woman is becoming resilient? What if she walked away from people trying to drug her, and a family using her for God only knows what?” I stood from the bed and moved directly in front of him, claiming his gaze with mine. “What if she trusts the guy she’s with to keep her safe, always, because she’ll do the same for him?”
Emotion brimmed over in Raphael’s eyes, so thick it hurt to witness his pain. “What if he becomes the reason for her facing a greater risk than any her family could throw at her?”
With trembling fingers, I reached for his hand, cupping it between mine. I didn’t pretend I had an answer, not one that would satisfy him. The one thing I knew and trusted in was the draw between us. The unending, relentless need we had that wasn’t one-sided. He wanted me, despite everything he’d described. It wasn’t something either of us could stop.
My pathetic need for him to call me his girlfriend fell away, because this was so much greater than that. Raphael stared straight back at me.
I was out of my depth and drowning, and certain I had one chance to get this right. He wouldn’t let me touch him, not in the way I wanted. If I told him I had feelings for him, he’d lock down tight and use that as an excuse to walk away to protect me.
“And yet, we have this.”
I pushed up on my toes and pressed my lips to his.
He stiffened but didn’t stop me from stealing the chaste, warm kiss. It was his slight roll towards me when I pulled back that spurred me on.
Holding his gaze, I commanded, “Follow me.”
I turned and walked away, relief fluttering in the beats of butterfly wings when I peeked back to find him following. I knelt on the bed then grabbed one of the pillows, placing it against the base at the end. Then I sat against it with my legs crossed and gestured for him to take the opposite position at the headboard. Slowly, Raphael lowered himself to sitting, his gaze never leaving me.
My white dress had buttons all the way down the front, from the sweetheart neckline to the hem, and I undid the first, holding my breath until I saw the surge of lust in how his focus tracked my movements. “Copy me.”
For a beat, he dropped his head back to the wood, gazing at the ceiling like he couldn’t look at me. Yet his fingers found their way to the button at the base of his throat, revealing another inch of his strong chest.
I popped the next on my dress. “Your turn.”
Raphael followed suit but still didn’t look.
I undid the third and fourth, the material opening to reveal my lace bra. “Be a good boy and keep your eyes on me.”
He liked praise. Every day, I’d make sure to tell him that he was good. That the choices he made were sound. I wasn’t going to leave that out of the bedroom.
As expected, his dark eyes trained back on me, sliding down to my chest.
He didn’t need the instruction to continue his slow reveal, but it took him a moment to concentrate, his chest rising and falling.
“All the way off,” I instructed. His shirt had far fewer buttons than my dress.
Raphael stripped it and gave me the view I loved. Tonight, he’d described his motivation behind his career choice and why he honed such a strong body. All that power, all that devotion. It made me want to rub up against him like a cat. I carried on, undoing every button down to my waist then lifted my chin to him.
“Now your jeans.”
Raphael stared at my body. “All the way off?”
“That’s a good boy.”
He breathed through his nose but obeyed, settling back on his pillow in just his boxer shorts. “Dress. Gone.”
A thrill danced through me, both from anticipation of what I wanted to do and at the fact he was allowing this. Aiding it along. I made quick work of the remaining buttons and peeled back the material, on my knees so the straps could fall down my arms.
We were both in our underwear now, locked away in a secure cottage with one of his team next door and cameras monitoring the grounds. In such a remote corner of the country, I’d never felt so safe. It was all to do with the man in front of me. He’d given me this.
I’d give him a show in return.
Still on my knees, I stroked my hands up my waist to cup my breasts. He tracked the movement.
“I have a problem with you,” I said, reversing the direction so I glided down to the straps of my underwear. “I might be semi-clothed, but you’ve seen all of me naked. You’ve had your hands and mouth on me. I haven’t had the same pleasure. But,” I claimed the air before he could interrupt, “I respect the reasons you won’t allow this to go any further.”
He didn’t answer, though one hand cupped the impressive bulge in his shorts.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t watch,” I finished.
Raphael’s jaw locked. “Going to need ye to be crystal clear what you’re asking.”
Always the honourable man and the king of consent. “You won’t let me touch you, but I can watch you touch yourself.”
He groaned. For good measure, I added my killer blow.
“While I get myself off at the same time.”
Raphael exhaled hard then released that perfect control, snapping up his hips to remove his last item of clothing. Shocked, I stared at his sizeable dick, so hard he had to be going insane with need.
He fisted it and stroked himself, reclining with one hand gripping the bed post. Good God, that was attractive. Those abdominal muscles contracting. The way the lamplight showed every strong curve. Need fizzled along my veins, sweat pricking my forehead, my underwear soaked.
There was nothing I wanted more than to straddle him and guide that thick and blunt end to my entrance then spear myself on him. I wanted him inside me. I wanted his hands on my waist and for him to groan my name at the tight fit.
But I’d made a promise, and I was good to my word.
With effort, I held my ground and unclipped my bra. Raphael’s lips parted, and when I cupped my breasts, his tongue slid over his lower lip. Again, he stroked himself, his legs apart so I didn’t miss a thing of his perfect body.
I was already so into the man. Just being around him all day had me ready and willing, but watching him play with himself while I toyed with my nipples and massaged my breasts for his pleasure had the power to ruin me for good, and I was willing to let it.
The energy in me built and built, so that I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, overwhelmed and so, so turned on.
“Get those off.” Raphael’s desperate tone returned me to the moment.
I stripped my underwear then lay back, heat burning my cheeks but hypnotised by how his gaze glued to the place between my legs. Slowly, I spread my knees, giving him all the opportunity to look until I couldn’t take it anymore and had to touch myself.
At the first glide of my fingers over my wet core, he made a choking sound. I stared at him and how he gripped his dick, not moving.
“Make yourself come, princess. Fuck knows I can’t hold off for long. Not when you’re right there.”
“I’m so wet for you. You do this to me. Only you.”
I did as he asked, soaking my fingers to circle my clit. After only a minute, I was panting in need, my body tight and my back arched and my breasts begging for touch. My nipples tingled, my skin was on fire. When I moaned, he seemed to get impossibly harder, his free hand cupping his balls like they ached for release.
I’d wanted to tease him and make this more of a game. For one of us to approach the cliff then fight to hold off while the other chased their pleasure. In my head, I’d drawn it out until we couldn’t take it anymore.
In reality, just seeing my beautiful bodyguard sprawled out in front of me with his dick in his hand was enough to chase me over the edge.
I forced my eyes open and my mind to capture the image. The plain need in his eyes and the way he held himself so tight.
“I wish you could fuck me,” I blurted, right as my orgasm struck me down. I bucked from the bed then sank into the sheets, satisfied but at the same point desperate for him to fill me and to prolong the pleasure by taking his own and hammering into me.
“I wish I could, too.” Raphael growled out a sound almost of pain.
I flew my eyes open. With his shoulders bunched and his forearms taut, he jerked his dick a couple more times, his focus never leaving me. Then, when his gaze touched my face, he came.
Ribbons of cum soaked his chest. I moaned again, fresh heat scalding me at the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
I was so screwed over him. So badly from our first dance and every encounter since. More when he recovered and grinned at me, like we’d shared something so delicious and heaven-breaking that his happiness couldn’t be contained. That adoration was cemented for good when he grabbed a flannel from the bathroom and cleaned us both up, then killed the light, ushering me beneath the sheets so he could slip in behind.
Definitely when he hugged onto me, growing hard again but not doing anything about it.
Neither would I, no matter how much I yearned for him. Nothing beat how I felt around this man, and though I tried to stay awake and cling to how wonderful it felt to be curled up naked with him, sleep claimed me.
I woke to daylight peeking through the thick curtains in the still, calm room.
Raphael was gone.