CHAPTER FIVE
LILIANA
As soon as Rafaelle pulls my mouth to his, heat erupts within me, licking at every cell in my body.
I thought I knew kissing. It’s supposed to be simple. Two lips coming together. You press, you suck, you lick and sometimes it feels good. Other times, you can’t wait for it to stop.
This kiss though, right now with Rafaelle? It feels exciting and new and wonderful. And I never want it to stop. I melt into his rough hold, getting lost in the hot glide of his mouth against mine. He kisses exactly how I thought he would, taking all that he wants from me and more.
I’m pushed against his body, feeling every hard edge of him. My hands slide over his huge tattooed arms before getting to his nape. I run a hand through his thick hair, wondering how it can feel so soft.
A moan escapes me when his tongue glides against mine. It’s raw and leaves me with nothing but unadulterated want. Every doubt, every fear flies out the window. All I want is here and now. All I need is to feel him within my skin.
He pushes me even closer and my nipples tighten as they brush against his chest, sending sparks straight to my core. I hum against his mouth and he groans low in his throat, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth.
Rafaelle grips my neck as we continue our little dance, the movement possessive enough to leave my nerves tingling.
He tastes so fucking good, better than the strawberry milkshake I had earlier.
Damn, and that was a really good milkshake.
I’m practically shaking with need, burning up with each press of his lips.
“Feels good, right?” he asks gruffly against my lips, his fingers tightening around my neck.
I moan in reply, needing something, anything to alleviate the pressure between my legs.
Rafaelle walks up backward until my back is against the wall, the door?
I don’t really care. I just need him to keep kissing me.
His hands move down to back of my thighs and suddenly I’m being lifted.
My legs encircle him almost instinctively.
The angle of the kiss changes with my newfound elevation. It’s much deeper this way.
“Much better,” he murmurs. “You’re very short, little siren.”
“You’re very tall,” I whisper back, my breaths coming out in short gasps.
I’m 5’5, which is not short. But I have no interest in starting an argument about height, especially not when he bites my bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth in the next breath, dulling the sting. My vision goes a little hazy.
Wow, he’s so good at this. And he’s so hard. I can feel him against the opening in my thigh, pressing on my core. He squeezes the bare flesh of my thighs possessively, making an angry sound in his throat when his hand slides up to meet the material of my dress.
“Off,” he mutters into the space between our lips.
“Do it yourself,” I say, too busy kissing his jaw and sliding my lips down to his neck.
He shifts backward and we drift apart for a second but only so he could pull my dress over my head. The soft sound of fabric hitting the floor slows the urgency of our movements for a second. He makes use of that second to look at me, really take me in.
I’ve always been pretty self-confident but the way he looks at me in my lacy black bra and thong with nothing else in between, raises my confidence sky high. He eyes me like I’m the only thing in the world. I didn’t know a person could feel so much power with one look.
“Sei perfetta,” he murmurs and I recognize the language almost immediately.
It’s Italian and he just called me perfect. Yeah, I’m definitely soaring.
He grips my hips, palms sliding up to the curve of my ass with a grunt. It’s a surprising, gentle caress that wraps around my heart.
What am I doing here? What is going on? Why does it feel like this?
The questions ring inside my head. But he quiets them by kissing me again, liquefying all my nerves. His lips travel down my throat to the tops of my breasts and he nips at the skin before sliding a rough hand beneath my bra to squeeze.
“Fuck,” I groan against his neck, holding on tight to him.
He reaches for my back, unclipping my bra and pulling it off. My breasts feel heavy as the cool air brushes them. Rafaelle runs a thumb across my nipple, almost reverently, his eyes dark and filled with so much lust.
He leans down to take one erect bud in his mouth, sucking it deeply.
My head drops back, hitting the wall, the impact jolting through the haze of lust for a second. I groan, both from pain and pleasure.
“Sorry,” Rafaelle mumbles around my nipple.
I can almost feel his smile.
“Keep going,” I breathe.
He shifts his ministrations from one breast to another, sucking, biting, taking his time, driving me wild. I grind against him, seeking more friction. Needing more.
I run my hand over his body, realizing for the first time that he’s still fully clothed. That won’t do at all.
With shaky fingers, I reach for the buttons of his shirt. Rafaelle offers no help as I start to undo them one by one, while he continues playing with my breasts.
He pauses only when I finish with the buttons, helping me slide the shirt off his back.
My eyes widen at the sight of all of his bare, exposed skin.
Tattoos line his arms, various ones jumping out, some in different languages, some seem symbolic, others not so much.
My eyes follow their path all the way up to his neck where the dragon lies.
But when I look down at his chest, there’s only a lion and nothing else.
Unlike the rest of his extreme tattoos, each one connects with the next.
And I’m suddenly curious if there’s any tattoos on his back.
“Rafaelle,” I say softly. “Let me down.”
He pauses, looking up at me with dark intense eyes. It sends a shiver down my spine. He concedes, letting me slide to the ground.
I run a hand over the skin of his shoulder blades, down to the middle of his back. There’s nothing there. It’s a bit perplexing, I’d been expecting his body to be completely covered, and yet.
“What’s the deal, Rafaelle? Why’s your canvas blank?”
I hear a light chuckle before he turns around to face me.
“My body is art enough on its own, little siren.”
My eyes narrow, “It feels like posturing.”
“What?”
“You tattoo your arms and your neck. Places other people can see, but you leave the rest of it blank. Like you’re faking, giving off a persona to the world that you don’t really feel.”
“And what persona is that?” he questions, eyebrow raised.
“That you’re this dark, evil person.”
This time when he smiles, I can tell it’s entirely disingenuous. His eyes flash with something that immediately makes me want to take back my words. My heart thumps at the sight of it.
“Make no mistake, Liliana. I am a dark, evil person. You have no idea the things I could do. The things I’ve done. You know fuck all about me and you’re still here. In my room, naked. We were having fun a second ago, let’s not ruin it.”
I suck in a huge breath, trying not to let the ice in his tone deter me.
“Tell me why the rest of your body is blank.”
“No. Shut up.”
When I open my mouth to retort, he does it himself.
Grabbing the back of my neck, he slams his lips to mine, effectively cutting me off, swallowing every word in my throat and stalling every thought in my head.
He lifts me again, holding me up against his body as we stumble back towards the wall again. Or is it the door this time?
Screw trying to figure him out. I just want him inside of me.
When Rafaelle cups my pussy through my panties, he feels just how desperate I am. Our kiss turns sloppy as he shifts the material aside to run a hand over my folds. He makes a deep hum in the back of his throat.
“God, please,” I moan.
He growls, sinking two fingers through my wetness and pushing them inside of me. I arch my back, digging my nails into his shoulders. I’m so wet down there, I can hear the moisture as he swirls it around with his fingers.
“Don’t mention God while I’m fucking you, Liliana,” he orders. “If you want to beg someone, beg me.”
Pleasure unfurls in my veins as he slides his thick fingers in and out of me, rubbing a spot deep inside with each stroke. I clutch him like a vise, dragging my hands through his hair, scraping my nails against his skin as he drags me inch by inch towards the edge.
“You’re making such a mess on my hands, little siren,” he says, nipping at my neck while I tremble. “Does it feel good?”
I grind against his hand, panting as the impending release blazes through me.
His fingers thrust hard inside me, curling against a spot that makes me see stars.
Rafaelle suddenly smacks my ass jolting me with surprise.
I look up at him, bleary eyed with pleasure.
Even the smack felt good, only adding on to the ecstasy whirling around inside of me.
“Answer my question, Liliana. Do my fingers inside of you feel good?” he repeats.
“Y-yes,” I say shakily.
“Good,” he smiles. “Now come for me.”
When his thumb presses on my clit, my vision dims and I explode. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as the orgasm spreads through every inch of me, down to my toes. I hold on to Rafaelle’s arm for support as he continues to thrust inside of me.
Fifteen seconds later and the shudders begin to rescind. I press a kiss to Rafaelle neck, a small thank you before pulling back to look at him. What I find in his eyes has pleasure licking through me like little embers.
“The next time you come, I want to hear that voice that managed to entrap me,” he states. “I want to hear you scream.”
The promise of another orgasm has me reaching for his pants.
I’m completely insatiable, wanting everything he has to offer.
Unfortunately I’m still pinned against the wall so Rafaelle has to do the honors.
He lifts me slightly with my legs still wrapped around him.
I hear is the sound of him unbuckling his pants and the clothes hitting the floor.
“Condom,” I remind him, the thought blinking through the haze of lust.