Chapter Ten #2
I want to tell him that I’m not his, but as his mouth settles in the hollow of my throat and he slides a hand over my stomach, I lose the words I wanted to say. Because yes, I do like this. I like him calling me beautiful. I like being his.
His hand slips between my thighs and I gasp as he touches me, his fingers exploring the wet folds of my sex, his mouth an ember on my throat, my neck, my collarbones and then down.
He uses his mouth to feast on me, his tongue teasing the hard points of my breasts as he slides a finger into me and then another.
I gasp aloud as the pleasure spiders out like a crack in a mirror, carving lines and fissures in me, making me pant.
I’m aware of the soft silk around my wrists and the feeling of constraint only adds to the sensation, even as I pull against it slightly, wanting to touch him the way he’s touching me.
I lift my hips to his hand, wanting more than his fingers, needing more. ‘Please,’ I whisper. ‘Rafael, please.’
But he shakes his head, his gaze scorching. ‘Promise me you’ll marry me, dragonfly,’ he murmurs. ‘Promise me and I’ll give you what you want.’
‘I could lie,’ I pant, unable to stop moving as he continues his maddening stroke between my thighs. ‘I could lie again.’
‘You could,’ he agrees. ‘But if you lie, I’ll never touch you again.
’ His hand slows and then withdraws. ‘You’ll feel like this, desperate and aching and unfulfilled.
’ His stare is intense and there are flames behind his eyes.
‘It’ll be painful to be without me, dragonfly.
No other man can give you this. No other man can make you feel this way. ’
I’m panting, unable to keep still, and a part of me knows that he’s right. That no other man can make me feel this way, and in fact I wouldn’t let any other man bind me this way. Touch me this way. And even the thought of doing this with anyone else leaves me cold.
Still, I can’t give in straight away or fold like a house of cards. Sex is only part of a marriage and we need more than that, especially when a child is involved.
He trails his mouth down to the slight curve of my stomach where our child rests and he touches me reverently, as if I’m holy, precious.
‘Would you lie to me about this, hmmm?’ He lifts his head and raises himself again, so he’s over me but no part of his body is touching mine.
‘Can you bear it, dragonfly? Can you bear to feel this way for ever?’ There is demand in his eyes and it compels the truth from me.
‘No,’ I whisper. ‘I can’t.’
He runs his fingertips down the length of my body, his gaze pinning me to the mattress, his light teasing touch making me tremble. ‘Then promise me,’ he orders. ‘Promise me that you’ll marry me and I’ll give you this whenever you want. I’ll give you as much pleasure as you can handle and more.’
I’m panting now as his fingers slip once again between my thighs and he begins to stroke and caress me again. My thoughts are slippery and I don’t want to think, I want to give myself up completely to the pleasure he’s giving me, but I can’t. Not yet. I need him to give me something too.
‘Leave my brother alone,’ I say, my voice husky. ‘Leave my brother alone and I’ll marry you.’
He goes still, the look in his eyes getting sharper. I’m naked and bound and beneath him, and I should feel weak, helpless and in his power, yet I don’t.
I can see the hunger in his eyes and I know how badly he wants this, how badly he wants me. He’s in my power now and as he used pleasure to get me to do what he wants, I’m using it to get what I want now.
Do you really understand what you’re asking him to give up?
Only then does a fragile thread of doubt wind through me. His father died and his mother sold herself to repay the family debt, and I saw in his eyes how that affected him. He’s damaged, just as I have been damaged, and who am I to tell him what he should give up?
Except he wants it from the person I love most in the world, wants to destroy him, and I can’t let that happen, no matter how badly Rafael has been hurt.
My brother, too, has been hurt, has been damaged.
His need to grow Vulcan has more to do with protecting me than actual greed, and by taking me from him, Rafael has started a war he has no concept of.
Revenge won’t help him, just as my brother’s guilt hasn’t helped him, and if I allow it to go on, this might affect the child I’m carrying, and the next generation will carry the same damage.
I can’t let that happen. It has to stop somewhere. It has to stop with me.
‘I’ll give you whatever you want,’ he says, his voice hard. ‘Except that.’
‘That’s sad,’ I say steadily. ‘Because that’s what I want.’
A muscle flicks in his jaw as he stares down at me and, obeying some instinct, I shift beneath him, a slow undulation of my body. His attention flickers at the movement, and I see the flames in his eyes burn higher. He’s hungry for me, I know that. But is he hungry enough to give me this?
‘I could just take what I want now,’ he growls, his hot temper showing in his voice. ‘While you’re tied up and unable to stop me.’
It’s an empty threat and we both know that.
He won’t touch me if I don’t want him to.
‘You could,’ I agree. ‘But you won’t.’ And I make another undulating movement, lifting my chest so the tips of my breasts brush the cotton of his T-shirt, and then my hips, pressing the needy heat between my thighs to the hard ridge behind the zip of his jeans.
‘Fuck,’ he mutters, the look in his eyes glazing. ‘Olympia…you don’t know what you’re asking for.’
He’s wrong. I know. ‘I don’t care,’ I murmur. ‘Those are my terms. Now make a decision and put us both out of our misery.’
He stays there, statue-still, fury and frustration blazing in his dark eyes, and for a moment I wonder if I’ve been too hasty with my demands. If he wants his revenge on Ulysses more than he wants me, but then he mutters another curse and gets off the bed.
But he’s not leaving. He claws his clothes off with impatient hands and then he’s back on the bed again, the sun shining through the windows showing me every glorious inch of his naked body.
Hard, carved muscle, velvety olive skin, a scattering of crisp black hair across his chest. He’s the epitome of male beauty.
Michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him. He would have put David to shame.
My breath escapes as he kneels between my thighs, his hands sliding beneath my rear, the heat of his palms against my hot skin making me gasp.
‘Your promise,’ he growls as he lifts my hips. ‘All the words, dragonfly.’
‘Yes,’ I say shakily, already trembling with anticipation. ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, Rafael. I promise.’ I hold his gaze. ‘Your turn.’
The muscle in the side of his jaw flicks again, anger clear in his eyes along with the heat of desire. There’s a silence and I know he’s struggling with the words. But I want them and I won’t give him what he wants until I hear them, and he knows that.
‘I’ll leave your brother alone,’ he grits out. ‘I promise, Olympia.’
He doesn’t wait after that. He grips my hips and I feel him press into me, sliding deep inside, and the intensity of the sensation almost strangles me. I cry out hoarsely, the press and stretch of him incredible.
He growls and begins to move, deep and slow, making me writhe, pulling against the headboard, wanting to touch him.
He leans forward, looking down at me, and I’m lost in the darkness of his eyes.
He’s hypnotic, mesmerising, the thrust of hips sending pleasure spiralling through me, layer upon layer of it.
He’s merciless, he sends me over the edge and then builds me up again, making me scream and pant, until I’m nothing but a creature made out of desire and there is nothing in the world but him.
And when I explode for the second time, he follows me.