Chapter 8
Alina
I t’s been two days since Rafe claimed me.
That’s the only word I can think of to describe what he did after confessing to killing Max.
I know I should feel bad about what Rafe confessed to doing to my ex, but I don’t.
The only thing I feel is a twisted satisfaction and pride. His need for me drove him to do that.
For. Me.
Yeah, that still feels odd to even think, but that’s what it is, and now that I’ve had him every which way for the past two days, I’m okay with it.
The only thing I’m not okay with is that I’m still not allowed to go anywhere. Not that I’ve wanted to. But seriously, my lady parts need a freaking ice pack and rest.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as the library door creaks open, and Rafe steps into the room. His tall, chiseled frame exudes an aura of quiet power that fills the space between us.
Only days ago, I’d describe his gray eyes as cold and calculating. But now, they hold a hint of something unreadable as they settle on me.
He crosses the room with deliberate steps, his gaze never leaving mine. “Why are you sitting on the floor, baby?” he asks, crouching down to my level.
A wry smile dances across my lips as I look at the destruction around us. The desk is laying in a heap on the floor. It never survived the third time he placed me on it. And the couch, well that too is gone. RIP.
“I like it here,” I purr, reaching out to cup his cheek. “The carpet is so thick and soft it feels like a mattress.”
He leans into my touch, groans deep in his throat. “You have no idea how sexy you look when you sit there wearing nothing but my collar.”
There’s a blanket draped across my legs, but he’s right, apart from the collar, I’m not wearing anything.
When his eyes darken and he licks his lips in that slow way of his, I tut and wag my finger at him. “Don’t get any ideas, Rafe. I’m way too sore for any?—”
“I came in here to tell you I’ve decided to let you return to the bakery,” he says.
I blink at him, surprised by the unexpected news. “Really?” My question comes out breathier than intended. “Wow.”
Rafe stands up, pulling me with him before gently taking the book I’m reading from my hands. The corners of his delectable and unreasonably tempting lips pull up in a smirk as he reads the title.
“The Godfather by Mario Puzo,” he muses. “Excellent choice.”
“You’ve read it?” I ask, surprise marring my words.
He places the book on the small table next to us and pulls me closer, making sure my body is flush against his. “I’m more than just a pretty face,” he rasps.
That’s all it takes for my pussy to flutter and my nipples to bead. “Oh, no you don’t,” I say, accusingly. Taking a step back, I put some distance between us. “I need a break.”
The grin spreading across his face is pure masculine pride, and it doesn’t help my nether region relax in the slightest.
“I know,” he says, making a show of shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “That’s why I’m allowing you to return to the bakery.”
Arching an eyebrow, I fold my arms over my tits. “You’re allowing it, are you?”
He grins. “That’s what I said.”
I huff. “Look, I might have agreed I’m yours, but you also agreed you’re mine. That means we make decisions together, Rafe. No more caveman shit.”
“Is that so?” he challenges.
Nodding, I say, “Yes.”
I don’t move or speak until he lets out a deep sigh and says, “Fine, I can agree to that.” I try not to let my happiness show. “But I need you to wear your collar. There’s a tracker in it, and?—”
“A what?” I shriek.
“Calm down,” he growls. “It’s for your protection and my peace of mind. If I don’t know where you are, I can’t let you out of my sight.”
The words should bother me, but how can they? This proves how much he’s treasuring me.
“Fine,” I snap. “But I want a way to track you as well.”
“God, I hoped you’d say that,” he says, pulling a small jewelry box from his pocket before dropping to one knee.
My mouth becomes slack as he removes the lid to reveal the two small white gold rings inside.
“What’s that?” I squeak. But I have my answer before he can give it to me.
While similar, one ring is larger than the other, and the smallest one is obviously more feminine. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
He chuckles darkly. “No.” I refuse to acknowledge the disappointment that hits me at his refusal. “We’ll get married eventually, that’s a given. But these both have trackers inside them.”
“Oh,” I gasp.
Moving closer, I pick up the one meant for me, laying it in the palm of my hand so I can really look at it. It’s gorgeous. A simple white gold band encrusted with diamonds. It’s perfect.
“Let me put it on you,” he rasps.
I hand him the ring and hold my hand out so he can easily slide it onto my ring finger. As soon as he’s done, I drop to one knee and do the same to him. Then I interlace our fingers, marveling at how good we look together.
“Perfect,” I sigh happily. “Pure perfection.”
Rafe laughs. “I believe it’s tradition to seal the deal with a kiss.” When I lean forward and tip my head up, he shakes his head. “Get up.”
Doing as he says, I stand, waiting for him to follow me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in and presses his lips to my pussy, inhaling deeply.
“These are the lips I want to kiss right now.”