Chapter 30 #2
The bookshelf at my back felt like a barrier, solid and grounding, but it did nothing to stop the tremor in my legs. My fingers curled against the smooth wood to anchor me, but nothing could steady the whirlwind inside me—not when Raffaele was so close.
His shirt hung half-open, revealing the planes of his chest. His dark hair was a mess. But it was his eyes, those cold, calculating eyes, that pinned me to the spot. They blazed with a heat that mirrored my own. I sucked in a breath as he pressed even closer.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he growled. “Always testing me. Always pushing to see how far you can go.”
His words sent a jolt through me, sharp and cutting, but it wasn’t only anger that surged in my chest. It was something darker, more dangerous, something I hated as much as I craved it.
He was too close, his scent—a heady mix of cedar, smoke, and heat—wrapping around me.
My heart hammered against my ribs, and I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the ache pooling low in my stomach.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I spat, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “You’re not as important as you think you are.”
His breath fanned against my cheek. “You’re a terrible liar, Vivian.”
I turned my head away, but he caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His touch was firm, unrelenting, and I hated that it made me shiver. “Let me go.”
“Say it like you mean it, Vivian,” he said simply, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “Say it like you mean it, and I’ll forget this ever happened. Tell me to stop.”
“Fuck you,” I snapped. I couldn’t tell him to stop. Why couldn’t I tell him to stop?
He smiled a knowing smile. “Oh, you will,” he said, his tone dark and dripping with promise. “But first, you’re going to listen.”
He released my chin, only to grab my other wrist and pinning it against the wall beside my head like the other. I dragged in a sharp breath, my body tensing as his mouth brushed against my ear. “Turn around, Vivian.”
I did as he asked, slowly, hesitantly. He pressed his body against my back, pushing my breasts into the bookshelf.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded.
My pride flared, my instincts screaming at me to fight, but the bond fed on his emotions—on the anger, the frustration, and the raw, unbridled need. It was impossible to ignore, and despite myself, I obeyed, parting my thighs.
“Wider.”
I spread my legs further, the motion making me feel vulnerable, exposed, yet desperate for his touch.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent a shiver down my spine.
“I hate you,” I whispered as I tried to cling to the shred of my dignity.
“Keep telling yourself that.” He slid his hand up my thigh under my dress, then pulled my panties down. “But I do believe, sweet Vivian, that your pussy loves me. Very much indeed.”
His fingers brushed against me, sliding over the slick heat between my legs, and I gasped, my hips jerking involuntarily. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, my cheeks burning, but my protest was weak, a flimsy shield against the onslaught of sensations he was pulling from me.
“If you hate this so much,” he said, his tone mocking as he pressed a finger inside me, slow and deliberate. “Why are you dripping for me?”
I clenched my teeth, refusing to answer, but I couldn’t stop my body from arching into his touch as he added another finger, stretching me. My nails dug into the wood of the bookshelf, my breaths coming faster as he set a slow, maddening rhythm.
“You can fight me all you want,” he said, his lips brushing against my jaw. “But I’ll always win, Vivian.”
I glared at him. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
“And you, Vivian, are mine,” he said, his gaze turning intensely serious. “Don’t forget that.”
His thumb found my clit, circling it in time with his fingers, and I let out a broken moan, my hips rocking against his hand.
The tension coiled tighter and tighter, every nerve-ending alight as he pushed me closer to the edge.
My pride, my anger, my hatred all dissolved, consumed by the fire between us.
“Raffaele,” I gasped, my voice cracking as the pressure became unbearable.
“I love hearing my name on your beautiful fucking lips,” he growled into my ear.
His words sent me over the edge, my body shattering as my climax crashed over me, wave after wave of pleasure leaving me trembling and breathless. He didn’t stop, coaxing every last tremor from me until I sagged against the bookshelf, my legs barely holding me up.
He spun me around, pressing my back against the shelves.
His hands gripped my thighs, lifting me.
My cotton dress bunched around my waist, and I barely had time to catch my breath before he thrust into me, filling me completely.
A strangled cry escaped my lips, and I dug my nails into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace.
“Fuck,” he hissed, pressing his forehead against mine. “You feel so fucking good.”
I tipped my head back, my body arching as he moved inside me, rough and unrelenting. He was so thick, so fucking huge, that he filled every inch of me.
The sound of our bodies meeting filled the air, each thrust sending another jolt of pleasure through me. I hated myself for how much I needed this, for how much I craved the way he took me, consumed me.
“You drive me insane,” he growled. “Do you know that? Do you know what you fucking do to me?”
Remembering Izo’s instructions, I bit his lip.
The sharp tang of blood flooded my senses as he groaned, his grip tightening on my thighs.
I swiped my thumb over my lip, then wiped the blood onto my wrists over the runes that bound us.
Guilt twisted in my chest. What the hell was I doing?
Aligning myself with the Ashen? Using Raffaele, betraying him, even as he claimed me so completely?
But the thought was fleeting, swallowed by the fire between us. I kissed him again, desperately, hungrily, my hands fisting in his hair as his pace quickened. Our bond burned brighter, our emotions tangling, feeding into each other, until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice rough with need. “Let me see you fall apart again while I’m deep inside you, Vivian.”
I shattered, my second orgasm tearing through me, and he followed moments later, his groan low and guttural as he buried himself deep inside me. We stayed like that for a moment, tangled and breathless, before he finally set me down, his hands lingering on my waist as if reluctant to let go.
As he turned to straighten his clothes, I spotted the book he’d thrown earlier. I grabbed it quickly and slipped it under my dress. My heart pounded as I followed him out of the room, heavy with the weight of what I’d just done.