Chapter 21 #2
Ani continued, “To the point where I’m not sure how this is real. Because you’re you, and I’m just me. Average—”
Raffi cut her off. “No, nope. No talking about my girlfriend in that way. You are exquisite, Ani jan. A treasure. And I’m not wrong about these things.”
Girlfriend. Ani reddened, knowing he could see it, liking that he could.
“One thing I wanted to ask—you mentioned you didn’t want to date…
vendors.” He gave her a smirk and continued.
“I understand that. If you wanted, we could keep things completely private, at least until the wedding is over. What do you think? Would that be okay for you, or is there some other arrangement—?”
He remembered, not just in passing. He understood how much her work mattered to her. Ani’s entire body felt light, fizzing with something too big to name, something that made her want to grab him by the collar and kiss him stupid.
“That’s perfect,” she said, interrupting him, a ridiculous grin stretching across her face.
He was so easy to be with. That was what struck her most. No tension, no second-guessing, no exhausting mind games—just Raffi, giving her space when she needed it, teasing her when she could take it, and standing by her in all the right ways.
Ani smiled. “You are something else, Raffi jan.” She hesitated for a second, then sighed. “I was so wrong about you. Every time we’re together, you’re so sweet, so thoughtful. Generous. Not just more than I expected—but more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
He squeezed her hand and lovingly ran his thumb along it.
“Plus, your phenomenal six-pack you so conveniently showed off after getting drenched.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Finally, someone appreciates my true talent—being aggressively shirtless.”
Now it was her turn to laugh, and even after it faded, the glow of it lingered between them. Ani looked up at Raffi, their hands still joined, the warmth of his thumb brushing over hers.
The golden light of the restaurant flickered in his eyes, and she found herself wanting to memorize every inch of him.
“So let’s date?” he asked.
“So let’s date.”
He tilted her chin up, and a slow, shivery heat bloomed in her chest. “I’ve been dying to do this again,” he said.
“Same.”
He kissed her, and just like the first time, the world liquefied. His lips savoring hers, his hands framing her face, reverent and sure, as if memorizing the shape of her, of them. I am dating him. We’re dating.
He dropped a hand to her thigh and let out something of a growl. Oh yes, she wanted more. Too bad they were—
A cough sounded from above. “Your dishes, madame et monsieur.” An amused waiter set down her sea bass fillet and his lamb roast.
“Thank you,” Ani said, embarrassed by how heavy her breath came out.
Raffi mirrored her thanks as the waiter walked away. Ani noticed the deep berry-red stains on his mouth. Her thumb brushed gently across his lower lip, smudging the gloss she’d left behind.
His mouth parted slightly beneath her touch, and his eyes grew darker.
She ran the pad of her thumb once more across his lip, slower this time, and she could practically feel Raffi’s body vibrating with want.
His hand, until now, had been on the top of her thigh, resting partly on the fabric and partly on her flushed skin. But then he slid his hand underneath the skirt.
Ani gasped.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He ran his hand slowly up her thigh, stopping short of Ani’s underwear, his fingers grazing her skin so, so gently.
“God, your skin is smooth,” he groaned.
She managed, “Something else is, too,” before she saw stars. She wasn’t sure when the last time was she took a breath. He had to be feeling the heat emanating from between her legs.
Raffi sucked in a breath, sat back in his chair, and slowly removed his hand.
His gaze flicked to hers, then to the artisan ceramics on the table, the soft clink of cutlery around them, the waiter approaching another table with a decanter. They were in a public place where their chances of getting kicked out for lewd behavior were high. Right.
When he looked at her again, his voice was laced with restraint.
“If we weren’t sitting in a restaurant where the bread has its own biography”—his jaw flexed—“I’d already have you undressed.”
Ani looked down at her food, which objectively appeared delicious but at the moment held no interest for her. She agreed with him, but all she wanted was his hand back. Higher, higher.
“I’m not really hungry anymore.”
Raffi was adjusting his pants, and Ani didn’t dare glance down because she guessed what she might see and she didn’t think she could make direct eye contact with any of the waitstaff after that.
“Same,” he said, “but eat up. You’re going to need your strength for what I have planned.”
She let out a sound, a type of squeak, and that elicited Raffi’s wolfish grin.
Then, so sweetly, he wrapped an arm around her and kissed the side of her head. He picked up his fork and said, “Come on, let’s try our best.”
They ate, Ani vaguely registering a citrusy tang and a pleasant basil pairing with her fish, but mostly focusing on calming her breath enough to swallow and stop her imagination from running wild.
When she had eaten enough, she turned to Raffi, who seemed to be in a similar battle of forcing down food while not getting too horny in a Michelin-starred restaurant.
She leaned into him and whispered, “You know, I don’t really need to be home tonight.”
Raffi clanked his fork down on the plate. “Okay, fuck this, let’s get out of here.”
He whipped out a sleek black leather wallet and threw down a few hundreds, vastly overpaying.
“That’s more than—” she started saying, but Raffi grabbed her hand and led them out of their booth.
“It’s fine. I can’t do math right now. All the blood is gone from my brain.”
Ani’s must have been, too. She didn’t remember details from the short walk to his car, but suddenly they were inside it.
Raffi seemed to have calmed himself somewhat in that time. “It’s seven minutes to home. Do you think you can handle it?”
She gave him a look. “Can you?”
His response was an impish smirk, and she wondered what he had planned.
They began the drive. Ani’s heart pounded. She was in Raffi’s car. They had kissed again. They were dating. They were about to do…well, whatever it was she wanted to do at his house. And truth be told, she wanted it all.
While Raffi kept his eyes on the road, his hand wandered over to her side. He rested it on her leg and, with one finger, tapped the inside of her thigh. “Open these for me.”
Without hesitation she complied, spreading them wide for him to do as he pleased. She’d been waiting for his touch there again.
“There you go,” he said.
She couldn’t even speak, just absorbed his low, gravelly voice and waited with a shaky breath of anticipation for what he was about to do.
He dragged two fingers up her thigh, heading exactly where she needed them, then he swept them up, across her mound, and back around the other side, down her other thigh.
Ani’s head rolled back, and a moan escaped as he began again, teasing her, not touching her in the place she needed specifically.
But he’d get there eventually. Right? Raffi drove on, eyes on the road, placid face, betrayed only by the slightest uptick of his mouth.
How long, had he said? Seven minutes? No way he could keep his hands off her sex, being that close to it, for seven minutes.
But Raffi did. His fingers, rough and warm, grazed and tantalized near it, but not on it. She turned to him. “You are evil,” she muttered.
“I know,” he said.
When they pulled into his parking lot, after what felt like hours of brushing his fingers just shy of her clit, Ani was a heaving, horny mess.
Panties soaked before he’d ever made contact.
On the one hand, she couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, but on the other, his patient touches had anesthetized her, stitching her in place in those long seven minutes.
As if reading her mind, Raffi waltzed over to her side, opened the door, and drew her into his arms like they were newlyweds. She wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling the indigo-blue scent of him.
Raffi unlocked, then kicked open the front door and carried her immediately to the couch. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from him, the intensity in his eyes, how his pupils grew black with desire.
He sat her in his lap and snaked a hand through her hair, pulling her in for a kiss. Hungry, frenzied kisses between them.
He broke away, his voice rumbling. “Last time you were here I didn’t get to do this. I wasn’t sure if you wanted it.”
“I want it,” she purred, reassuring him.
He ran his lips lightly along her neck and she shivered at the sensation. Then his tongue slowly circled her ear and her pleasure amped up so high a moan, unbidden, escaped her. His voice was low, feral. “I can tell.”
He locked his mouth onto hers and they made out, nothing more, for what seemed like an hour.
Ani hadn’t noticed until this moment that she’d been rocking her hips, needing to release some of the pressure built up between her legs.
She felt him, too, his hard mass under his pants.
Sizable. She started pressing against him with more insistence.
“All right, baby, slow down. You need more?”
“Please, yes,” she groaned. She was sure, absolutely positive, she’d already ruined his pants just by grinding on him.
She’d never felt so turned on in her life.
Ever. She could tell he was raring to go, too, but he also took his sweet damn time and she loved that.
She didn’t want it to be over; she wanted to savor every bit, draw it out as long as possible. So did he, it seemed.
Raffi began unbuttoning her shirt. “Let’s get this off.”
Self-consciousness momentarily struck her. What if he didn’t like her body? What if she wasn’t good enough—
Then he unclasped her bra in one pinch and she felt it peel off her body. Ani watched him stare in awe, gripping her hips, at first gently and then tighter. Ani’s breath hitched while he took her in.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, like he’d never seen anything so perfect.
Then she did something she didn’t usually do and began unzipping her skirt. She wanted to show him.
He murmured appreciatively, “Yes, let’s see more of you. I want to see all of you.”
She stood, missing the heat of him instantly but enjoying stripping her last few remaining pieces of clothing down her legs.
First her skirt fell, revealing dark violet satin panties—the ones his fingers had skimmed over and over.
She was nearly naked and he was fully clothed, and somehow this made everything even hotter.
He grabbed her ass, taking it in both his hands and pulling her closer to him. “You wore these for me? Or is this your everyday?”
“For you. It may have been wishful thinking.”
“Well, someone listened, that’s for sure.”
Raffi pinned her to him and kissed her, but this time with his hands seeking farther, stroking. Ani kept moaning into his mouth as he touched her, then up to the ceiling, emitting animal sounds she didn’t know she could make when his mouth began to explore the rest of her.
He laid her down gently and covered her with his body, kissing, rubbing, while she gasped.
“I want to see you, too,” she said, tugging at his shirt button.
“All right, Miss Wedding Planner,” he smiled, sitting up and pulling off his shirt.
Oh yes. There it was again. Broad shoulders with taut muscles, those pecs she’d been face-to-face with before. Rippling abs along his torso with those V lines pointing south. Hers now. To touch, to taste.
She ran her hands along his chest. “Goddamn, Raffi.”
“I’ve been thinking the same about you.”
He leaned back over her, their skin rubbing against each other. The way he looked at her, touched her, ravished her, she felt like an absolute goddess. The self-doubt had disappeared, melted away under his touch, leaving her polished and gleaming.
Then he swept back, pulled off her underwear, and threw it aside.
“Fucking beautiful,” he rasped, and began kissing her from her belly on down, lower, lower.
When he made contact, she thought she might actually black out.
He was savoring her, kissing her like he’d been wanting to do this for centuries.
Ani whimpered so loudly when he ran his tongue over her clit that she clapped her hand over her mouth.
“No need to be quiet. No one can hear,” he said.
He continued, harder, hungrier, using his fingers alongside his tongue. Ani’s hips bucked as her body filled with ecstasy, as it got tighter, more frenzied, more craving of a release. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be filled with him.
With shaky breaths, she begged, “Please, Raff. I need you…in me.”
He pulled away before climbing on top of her, using his hand to keep her pleasure steady. “I’m sure you do, but not tonight.”
“Wha—?” she gasped, barely able to articulate it, her need was so intense.
“I want you to know, for sure, what I’m in this for. Not just to have sex with you. Until you believe that, until you won’t wake up with regrets, no sex. No nothing for me. I’m going to keep my pants on. All night.”
Through the haze of her lust, the meaning of his words filtered in. He wasn’t going to—? She had felt his generosity before, but this was something else. All right, Raffi, message received.
“Ughhh,” she groaned. She knew he was looking out for her, and it was so sweet, so damn sweet, and she knew he was right, but her body begged to be connected with him in that way. She’d endure it, though. She’d accept his blissful torment.
“Not to worry. I’ll be taking care of you. You think you’re only getting a single orgasm tonight?” he said with that devilish smile.
“I haven’t even—”
He stroked her hair. “I know. Let’s change that.”