Rafaele
Sloane sits on my lap, thighs bracketing my hips, a clean cloth in one hand and that wrinkle between her brows.
My ribs sting like hell, but I don't flinch. Not with her this close. Her legs are bare. She’s wearing one of my shirts again.
And I’m doing my best not to drag her mouth to mine and forget what we’re supposed to be doing.
We’re perched on the end of the bed. Moonlight spills through the wide windows, soaking us in silver. Everything else about the room is dark, the heavy lines of the furniture, the stark black-and-white photos on the walls, so she seems to glow in the night.
She leans in and studies the swollen bruise on my jaw, her voice soft.
“Looks nasty.”
I offer a dry smirk as she dabs at the cut with the antiseptic cloth.
“You should see the other guy.”
Her lips twitch in amusement.
“Let me guess. Someone said the wrong thing?”
I shift against the pillows.
“Entitled little shit at the gym. Thought throwing a few punches meant he could talk back to Matteo.”
Sloane rolls her eyes, but I catch the corner of her mouth lifting.
“Let me guess again. You corrected him.”
I shrug, letting her apply pressure to the cut.
“Call it an educational moment.”
She huffs but can’t suppress her smile, the one that makes my chest feel too tight. She dabs again, slower this time, and I hardly notice the sting. Not with her by my side.
She sets the cloth down, and her hands linger at my ribs, fingers grazing bruised skin.
“You’ve been taking a lot of hits lately,” she says quietly.
I meet her gaze.
“I’ve walked away from all of them.”
Her fingertips tremble against me.
“So… what now?”
She asks it so casually I freeze. She’s not just asking about the bruise or the fights. She’s asking about us.
“What do you mean?” I say carefully.
“Now that everything’s over. Maddy. Dale. The Callahans.” She hesitates, eyes darting away. “I guess I should move back to my apartment.”
Her words are a cold slap, the kind that leaves a mark. My pulse quickens, and my mind races. No more Sloane tiptoeing around the kitchen, Sloane stealing my shirts, Sloane’s laugh filling the empty spaces of this place. Just me. Alone. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let her go.
“No.”
“Rafe—” she begins, but I cut in, sharper than I intend.
“No, Sloane.”
My hands slide up her back, but I hold her at arm’s length. She has to hear this. She has to understand.
“You think after everything, I’m going to let you go sleep in some cold apartment while I lie awake wondering if you locked the door? Wondering if you’re alone? Wondering if you’re still mine?”
My voice sounds rawer than I expect. She’s both everything I never wanted and all I’ve ever needed. She’s sunshine in this dark world. And the thought of her slipping away terrifies me more than anything else ever could.
Her voice is tentative.
“Rafe, I didn’t say—”
Interrupting, I declare, “You’re mine. You’re staying here. And you’re gonna wear my damn wedding band if it’s the last thing you do.”
She freezes, eyes wide as if trying to decipher every word. I hold my breath, waiting for her to bolt, waiting for her to say I’m out of my mind.
“Your wedding band?” she repeats.
I grunt again, this time because I’m losing it.
“Are you… proposing to me?” she whispers.
I press closer, voice gravelled.
“I’m not asking. I’m done asking. I’m telling you: you’re it for me. So either we make it official… or I keep you locked in this room until you come to your senses.”
Instead of fleeing, she starts to smile. It spreads slowly, like she can’t help herself, like I’m the biggest fucking surprise of her life. Her breath hitches, and then she laughs, a soft, beautiful, slightly teary sound.
“Then yes. Obviously yes.”
I exhale as if relieved of a weight I’ve carried for months. My hands cradle her face, and I kiss her like she’s the only thing keeping me alive.
“I love you,” I murmur against her mouth.
The words feel like a confession.
She pulls back, her eyes shining.
“Say it again.”
“Love you,” I repeat, voice hoarse and rough.
“Again,” she demands. “Over and over.”
“God, you’re greedy,” I say, but I don’t stop.
I say it until it’s the only word that matters.
“Never enough,” she says, a challenge in her voice.
I devour her mouth in a kiss, and she pulls back just enough to whisper, “I love you too, Rafe.”
That’s it. I break. I stand, lift her off her feet, and toss her onto the bed. She bounces once, hair falling wild around her face, and I crawl over her as if I have all night.
“You’re mine, Sloane. Every part of you,” I growl.
“Yes,” she breathes.
My heart is pounding, my blood is pounding, and I swear she’s never looked more beautiful. She’s never looked more mine.
Her fingers hook around my neck, pulling me down, and I go willingly, knowing I’ll give her anything she asks for. She kisses me with a fierceness I didn’t know she had, and I let it consume me.
“Rafe,” she breathes.
“Everything,” I say, “I want everything, Sloane.”
I can barely stand it, can barely stand her.
“Show me how much,” she says, and I’m done.
I roll onto my back, take her with me. She straddles my hips, her smile dizzying, and I have to stop and catch my breath before I go insane. She’s all fire and softness, heat and promise, the kind of woman who should ruin me but doesn’t. Instead, she makes me whole.
“Still not leaving,” she says, wicked and full of laughter.
“Good,” I growl, because I can’t think of anything else, can’t think of anything but her, and I pull her close, kissing her with everything I have.
I peel her shirt up, taking my time, savoring the way her skin feels, the way she lets out a breathy sigh. It drives me wild. It drives me right out of my mind. I can’t get enough. She’s soft, sweet, perfect, and I lose track of everything. My hands, my mouth, my world, it’s all her.
Her shirt hits the floor, and I drag my lips down her neck, over her collarbone, losing my damn mind. She’s only in her underwear now, black lace against her creamy skin.
“Too much fabric. Take it off,” I demand.
Her smile is all heat and madness, the kind of smile that could break a lesser man. She slips off my lap, strips off her underwear, and I stare at her, feeling wrecked, feeling alive. Her curves, her skin, her, I could lose myself in her forever.
When she’s bare, she climbs back onto the bed, teasing me, tempting me, a siren that I have no hope of resisting. She runs her fingers over my chest, tracing the lines of my tattoos, and I can’t handle it.
“You too,” she says, leaning close.
Her lips brush my ear, her breath warm, her words deadly.
“Want to feel you, Rafe.”
I shudder at the way she says it. The way she makes me want more than I ever should.
“Now,” she says, breathless, and I don’t hesitate.
I roll us over, pin her to the bed, and get rid of my jeans and boxers. Her legs wrap around my waist, urging me closer, closer. Her body moves against mine, and it’s the best kind of torture, the best kind of heaven, the best kind of perfect I never thought I’d have.
The room is dark, but the moon spills in through the windows, painting her skin, painting everything. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
She runs her fingers down my back, then grips me tight, and I swear I’m gone. I swear I’ll never come back.
“Rafe,” she gasps, arching up, desperate.
I’m greedy. I’m ready. I’m out of my mind.
I grab her wrists, pin them above her head, holding her still. I know what she wants, know what she needs, know that I’ll give her everything.
“Slow,” I say, letting go of her wrists to cup her cheek, to touch her the way I never let myself before.
Her fingers sink into my hair, into my soul.
“Can’t,” she says, wild.
“Let me try.”
I kiss her, long and deep, claiming every broken piece of her and making them mine. Her mouth is fire, and I swear it’ll burn me alive. I want it to. I let her know with every breath that she belongs to me now, belongs to me forever.
When I finally push inside her, she’s slick and hot and perfect. It makes me tremble, makes my control snap, makes me insane with how good it feels. She moans my name, and I hold her face in my hands, refusing to let her look away, refusing to let her go.
“Sloane,” I say.
She gasps, trembles, and I lose myself in her, lose myself in everything.
I roll us again, pinning her to my chest, wanting to feel her as close as possible.
Wanting to feel her come apart above me.
Wanting to see her. Her breath comes quick, her skin flushed.
Her hands grip mine, squeezing tight, and I pull her down, desperate for more.
Her mouth finds mine, and she kisses me with a sweetness that undoes me.
I’ve always been fast and rough and brutal, but with her it’s different.
Our bodies find a rhythm, and I move inside her with a slowness that’s more devastating than any roughness I’ve ever known. She feels so good, I think I’ll die from it. I think I’ll lose my mind.
“Sloane,” I say, my voice a wreck, and her breath catches, her body tightens.
I reach down between us, fingers finding her, and she shatters. She calls my name, holds onto me like she never wants to let go, and I swear I won’t let her.
I’m right there with her, feeling her come apart, and it sends me over the edge. I drive up, hard and wild and desperate, a man without limits, and she cries out, her body arching above me, breasts jiggling so fucking deliciously.
“Rafe!” she gasps.
I cover her mouth with mine, pulling her in, taking her with me. I feel the tension coil, feel it break, feel everything all at once, and I lose myself in her.
“Please don’t stop,” she whispers.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I grind out, each movement a vow.
She comes first, a quiet cry under me. I follow with a groan and a jagged “Fuck, Sloane,” the words more prayer than profanity.
I hold her through it, both of us shaking and gasping and breathless.
My hands find her hair, tangling in it, keeping her close.
My eyes find hers, holding them, not letting go.
I press a kiss to her temple.
“Sloane Rosetti has a nice ring to it,” I murmur.
She laughs against my neck.
“So does husband.”
I pull her closer and whisper into her hair.
“Never letting go.”
The moonlight spills over us, covering our bodies, and I think maybe I’ll never want more than this.
I think maybe I’m finally whole.
Afterward, we lie tangled in the dark, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest.