Chapter 2 #2
“Tell me how you want it,” he says and moves the water over my folds. I can’t think clearly, and he slips a finger inside me. “Do you want my fingers?” He leans in and licks me from behind. “Or my mouth?”
“Please,” I whimper and rock my hips. I can’t decide.
“How about this?” He moves the shower head over my clit and pushes two fingers inside. “I think we have a winner,” he says when I make a desperate noise.
I’m pretty sure my legs won’t hold me up for long, but I do my best to steel them when he pumps his fingers in and out. I called his fingers clever, and I was right. The water never ceases and his fingers drive me higher until he finds that spot again and my legs give out.
Instead of folding to the floor, I find myself in Rafael’s arms. I expect him to look smug at making me swoon, but he’s serious, almost grim.
“Samantha.” There’s my name again. “If you ever fail to communicate like that again, I will spank you so hard you won’t sit down for a week.”
“What?” I sputter.
“If I didn’t have extremely quick reflexes, you could have cracked your head.”
He’s truly mad that I didn’t tell him my knees were getting weak?
“But…”
“If you need something from me, you will tell me.”
“Okay, fine.” I relent and he searches my face. “I promise,” I add when his frown doesn’t ease up. Not that I have a week left to suffer, even if he spanked me, but still. I want him to get back to making me feel so fucking good I forget my own name.
His thumb traces under my eye, probably because the makeup I spent so long applying has washed away and revealed the purple smudges under my eyes.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he says and maneuvers to his feet with me still in his arms. He turns off the water and walks out of the shower.
“Towel,” I say when he’s not slowing down.
“You don’t need one.”
“I want a towel,” I insist, and he huffs at my choice of words. I really hate getting my sheets wet and lying on a damp pillow is very high on the list of things that drive me crazy. Rafael walks over to the towel rack and I pull one of the towels into my lap.
“You could set me down, you know.”
“I could. I won’t.” He walks out of the room and I dry my head and rub down my body the best I can.
We enter the master bedroom and the same color scheme of gray continues here, but with darker, more luxurious shades. The bed looks like it could be catalogued under orgy-sized and it has four iron-wrought posters.
I can’t help the snort that escapes. Some stereotypes have truth behind them. At least there’s no coffin in sight. The black silk sheets are bad enough.
Rafael sets me down and rips the blankets off the bed and drops them to the floor. I look at the pile, horrified, and he takes in my expression and bends to pick them up, sighing. He folds them haphazardly over the chair in the corner, but that’s enough for my inner freak to relax.
I hand him the towel too and for a moment, he looks like he would like to burn the thing, which would be fine by me, as long as the ashes don’t get scattered on the floor, and then throws it over the door.
Good enough.
“You know, a man can suffer a serious blow to their ego when you prioritize blankets on the floor over sex.”
“Your ego can take it.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” he mutters and steps closer, herding me to the bed.
I climb on and lie down in the middle. The sheets feel so soft against my skin and I stretch, luxuriating in the feeling. Rafael crawls in after me, every inch of his body language predatory. He kneels between my knees, not nearly close enough where I want him.
He strokes my legs all the way from hip to ankle, causing shivers to run along my skin. Then he lifts one leg so it rests against his shoulder before repeating the movement on the other side.
I never knew someone simply stroking my legs could be such a turn-on.
“Remember, if you need something from me, you will tell me,” he says and I mindlessly nod.
Rafael’s hand clamps tightly around my ankle and he moves my foot to his lips.
The first lick of his tongue has me simultaneously moaning and kicking him.
He chuckles and does it again, to the same effect.
My kicks don’t move him an inch and he brings his other hand to massage my instep while his tongue flicks my toes.
My brain short-circuits and turns my body into a live wire.
Every lick drives me crazier; every sweep of his fingers wrings a whimper out of me. Then he changes to my other leg and starts the torture all over again. Words spill out of my mouth, cursing him, threatening to kill him if he doesn’t stop… and if he does.
His fangs lightly scrape my ankle and I stop breathing for a second.
The torture goes on forever and ever, until the only thing I can focus on is the ache between my legs.
“Rafael, please. I need to come,” I plead, out of breath and out of my mind. He hasn’t touched anything but my legs and I will die if he doesn’t give me what I need this very second.
The words have barely tumbled from my lips when he wrenches my thighs wide and dives in to close his mouth over my pussy. It takes a single sweep to bring me over the edge and I bite my own hand to muffle the screams as I convulse and come over and over again on his tongue.
When the shaking and trembling finally subsides, he lifts his head and there is that smug smile I expected to see earlier.
“Was that so hard?” he asks and it takes forever for my mushy brain to connect the dots. He made me come the moment I asked him to. If I had any energy left, I would be livid. Now the best I can do is flip him the finger.
“And is that nice?” He laughs as he gathers my limp body into his arms. His cock nudges against my ass and I stir a little.
Rafael presses gentle kisses to my shoulder and tugs me to his side.
“Sleep,” he whispers in my ear and my body relaxes in response.
But I didn’t come here to sleep. I press my ass against his erection and try to move enough to get him where I want him.
“No, Samantha. Sleep, we have time.”
That’s where he’s wrong. We don’t have time. I try to twist in his arms, but he doesn’t let me.
“I’m giving you a moment to recover, darling. And when you wake up, I plan to fuck you until you pass out from pleasure,” he growls and the promise in his tone loosens something deep inside me, so I snuggle closer and shut my eyes.
I can take the small respite if it means I’ll get more later. My eyes turn heavy and then sleep claims me.