Chapter 21
Sloane
Iwake up in a snowstorm, all tangled in white, only to find I’m wrapped around him. Rafe watches me with his ice-blue eyes, like maybe I’m a vision he dreamed up. We’re in my bed in the upstairs guest room, where he carried me last night when I was too boneless to walk.
I haven’t slept so soundly in years. No nightmares filled with blood, with sharp knives and matted fur, with the horror in my father’s eyes. Just pure, dreamless sleep. It’s a small miracle, this feeling. I’m not used to waking up to anything but fear, but this is warm and real and bright.
Rafe pulls me even closer. I grin like an idiot.
“Still here?” he murmurs.
Instead of answering, I roll on top of him. His gravelly laugh turns into a moan.
We’re both already naked, which saves time.
I straddle him and rock my hips, feeling the urgency, the wanting.
My heart is wild in my chest. My pulse sings.
His hands slide down, grabbing me, guiding me.
I know he’ll drive me insane before I have a chance to catch my breath.
We’re no more than a tangle of limbs, no more than a flash of heat.
I feel the strength of him, the depth of him, and he makes it last until I’m desperate for more.
Until I can’t take it. Until I’m gasping.
He grips my waist, flips me over, and fucks me like I’m the last woman he’ll ever have.
Like I’m the first. He’s brutal and beautiful.
He’s relentless. I dig my nails into his back, pulling him closer, wanting everything he can give.
It’s too good. Too much. We’re frenzied, tangled, exploding in each other.
He buries his face in my neck, and I hold on tight, tighter, taking everything and more, feeling myself come undone.
He’s there too. He’s right there with me.
We come down, clutching at each other, gasping for air.
This is a miracle, and I’m not letting go.
“Crazy,” he mutters against my skin.
I tuck my head under his chin, curl into him like I’m trying to memorize the moment. I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never been like this with anyone. It should scare me, the way it’s fast and wild and uncontrollable. But instead, it’s perfect. No fear. No hesitation. No doubt.
I close my eyes and breathe him in, trying to remember how to function now that I’m completely, thoroughly wrecked.
“Sleeping again already, Carter?”
He holds me even tighter, warmth and strength.
I huff, my breath tickling his chest. “Only way to keep me quiet.”
He gives a low chuckle, deep in his throat.
I feel it everywhere. It makes me think of how easily he broke through all the things that kept me alone, made me realize I wasn’t as strong as I thought.
Now he’s made me see something else. I’ve never slept like this, not since I was a kid.
Not without waking in the middle of the night, clawing my way out of old nightmares, haunted by a bloody memory. But not last night.
No dreams. No fear. Just him.
“Surprised you didn’t put a guard on me,” I say, looking up.
“I did. Me.”
My face breaks into a grin, so wide it’s a wonder my cheeks don’t crack.
“You’re stuck with me, Carter.”
The thought makes me giddy. I know it’s supposed to be a threat, but it’s the best promise I’ve ever heard.
“Damn right,” I say. “And you better believe I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
I’m so happy it almost hurts. But I can’t help teasing him.
“Not much of a prison if I want to be here,” I add, feeling bold, feeling fearless.
He grabs my arms and rolls, pinning me under him, hovering so close my lips buzz with wanting him again.
“We’ll see,” he says.
I kiss him hard, like maybe I’ll die if I don’t. He catches my lower lip between his teeth, making me gasp. Making me mad with desire. It’s intense. More than I can take. I let it last, but we’re two people in the middle of a firestorm, and there’s no way to stop the burn.
This is what it’s like to wake up with Rafe. Like diving into a furnace. Like burning to life.
And now that I know, I’m not sure I can ever go back to waking up alone.
It’s quiet and still when we finally drag ourselves to our feet, like even this big, soulless house is surprised by the way we fill it up.
Rafe’s already dressed, watching as I stumble around, trying to find the last of my clothes. I’m in nothing but a tangle of hair and the sheet I grabbed from the bed. I catch him staring, eyes hot and possessive.
“See something you like?”
“Not sure,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. “Drop the sheet, and I’ll let you know.”
I roll my eyes, even though I love the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. Like maybe he’s in as deep as I am.
I find my clothes, get myself together, and watch the smug bastard rake a hand through his hair. He looks almost innocent when he’s freshly fucked, like a little boy in a man’s body. I want to jump him again.
We head for the hallway.
“So,” I say, testing, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “I guess I’m your prisoner now?”
I expect a comeback, something to make me huff and puff like he’s done so many times already, but he just shrugs, easy and relaxed.
“Guess so.”
“You going to tie me up? Handcuffs and all?”
His laugh is rich and low.
“Kinky, Carter.”
My cheeks burn.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then I’ll have to think of something else.”
We’re halfway down the hall. It’s cold, quiet.
I try to picture myself here, waking up to him every day, trying to pretend it doesn’t scare the shit out of me.
I never thought I’d let anyone get this close.
But he isn’t anyone. He’s this man who makes my head spin and my heart race, who makes me feel like I can take on the world.
He’s danger and comfort, madness and calm.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. “Hold me hostage until the Red Hooks back off?”
He gives me a sideways glance, eyes dark.
“Might take a while.”
“I’ve got time,” I say, my heart speeding up at the thought.
“You sure about that?”
I know what he’s really asking. Can I handle this? Am I ready for it? I surprise us both with how fast I answer.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sure.”
I can see him let down a little bit more of his guard. He’s still unsure, but I can tell I’m getting to him. He wants this as much as I do, maybe even more.
“If I’m going to stay a while, I’ll need a tour of the house. And preferably a list of everyone who lives here.”
“Just me, three of my brothers, my little sister, and one wife. Dom and Besiana have their own place, but they’re often here too. So are Mom and Dad, and Nanna Toni.”
“Holy crap. That’s a lot of mafia.”
He chuckles. “Thought you liked living dangerously.”
“Such a lot of damn Rosettis,” I say, like that’s any kind of answer.
We reach the library, the giant doors yawning open. It’s huge, filled with shelves that stretch to the ceiling, all dark wood and cold marble. It’s empty, echoing, and makes it clear this actually is a mafia mansion.
“Beautiful,” I say.
“You look disappointed.”
“I kind of thought you were showing me to your sex dungeon.”
Rafe leans against the doorframe, lazy and sure of himself.
“Any room can work for that. As long as we keep it quiet,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.
“We’re going to sneak around?”
“We are.”
I grin at the thought. It’s insane, but so is everything else about us.
“Don’t tell me the Rosetti boys are scared of a little scandal.”
He pulls me in, quick and hungry, crushing his mouth to mine, swallowing the sound of my surprise. It’s not a long kiss, but it’s enough to remind me why I’m doing this, why I’m letting myself be vulnerable. Because I’m not, not with him. He knows me. He’s seen me, all of me.
“Maybe I like a little scandal,” he says, lips brushing mine.
His words shoot through me like fire. I feel them everywhere.
We step inside the library, and it’s so cavernous and empty that I can’t help the wild grin on my face.
I’ve never wanted to do anything like this, never thought I’d be this girl.
But here I am, scheming with a mafia bad boy to have sex in his family’s library, getting hotter and wetter at the thought of being caught.
Rafe sees it in my eyes and raises an eyebrow.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I push the heavy doors shut, daring him to stop me, knowing he won’t.
“Thought you liked living dangerously,” I say, throwing his words back at him.
His smirk is all hunger. “You going to put your money where your mouth is, Carter?”
I lock the door and face him, breathless and electric. It’s a massive room, and I’m dizzy with how wrong and how right this is. We’re insane. We’re daring. We’re both going to pay for this later.
But right now, I don’t care.
I stalk toward him, like maybe I’m the one with the power. Maybe he’ll let me think I am, just for a second. My steps echo off the marble, making the space between us feel charged, waiting to combust.
Rafe watches, all anticipation and longing, knowing exactly what I’m doing, letting me do it anyway.
I reach him, tangle my fingers in his shirt, and yank him to me, kissing him with a heat that’s almost violent.
He responds in a flash, all restraint gone.
I can’t believe how hard I want this. We don’t bother finding a couch, a chair, anything.
We’re a frenzy of hands, tongues, bodies, and we end up on the cold, hard floor, right there between the bookshelves.
His mouth is everywhere, insistent and wild. His hands are rough and fast, stripping me of my clothes, my sanity, my everything. It’s thrilling, overwhelming, making me shake.
I struggle to keep up, losing myself, not caring at all.
He strips off my jeans, the heat of him relentless and consuming. I’m so far gone I’m seeing stars, clutching at him, holding him to me. We don’t take our time, but we make it last. He’s skin and strength and raw want. He’s on top of me, inside me, and I think I’m going to lose my mind.
The cold marble is nothing, just a reminder of where we are, of the danger we’re in. But Rafe is everything. I’m riding the edge of control, wanting him, needing him, as desperate as I am.
He pulls out, making me gasp, turning me over, dragging me onto all fours, entering me again from behind. I’m gone, insane, every nerve on fire. It’s risky and reckless and more than I’ve ever dreamed.
“You’re a fucking maniac,” he groans, pounding into me.
It doesn’t take long. I’m there, right there, pushed to the brink and ready to explode, ready to come, so full of him and wild with it that I think I’ll die if I don’t. He fills me up, rocks me, fucks me with everything he’s got.
Then we’re both gone, tumbling, breaking, hitting our limit. I bite down on my lip, barely stifling a cry. He holds me there, pulling me close, shaking with the force of it all. We’re a shivering, laughing mess of limbs and heat.
We’re insane. We’re perfect. We’re about to get caught.
“What was that?” I gasp, half choking, half laughing.
Rafe hauls me to my feet, pulling on his clothes, helping me find mine.
“I mean, it was amazing,” I say, doing a frantic search for my missing sock, half-dressed and out of breath. “But that noise?”
He’s still breathing hard, his face bright, a mixture of panic and excitement.
“Shit,” he says. “Someone’s coming.”
I hear it now too. Footsteps in the hall. They’re close. I grab his arm, holding on, ready to make a run for it.
“Think it’s your sister?” I whisper. “Or one of your terrifying brothers?”
“Worse,” he says, looking terrified. “Could be Nanna.”
That makes me choke out a laugh, right when I’m trying to be serious. Rafe gives me a look, halfway between desperate and amused.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
I’m getting dressed, dragging him with me as we bolt for the door.
He’s doing his best to look unaffected, like it doesn’t matter if we get caught, but I know he’s worried about me.
Worried I can’t handle the heat, can’t handle the family, can’t handle him.
He doesn’t say it, but I see it. I see everything, even the part of him that thinks I might back out.
But I’m not running away. I’m not afraid. I’m just getting started.