Rafaele pulled back for a moment, breathing harshly, his eyes glittering fiercely. It was hard for Sam to open her eyes. She felt dazed. He’d always had this effect on her—one touch and she felt drugged.
He was dragging off his jacket, tie and shirt, dropping them to the ground, unbuckling his belt, undoing his trousers.
His voice was guttural. ‘I want you naked now.’
Sam’s flesh prickled with anticipation. Her hands felt stupid as she tried to pull down her strap and, issuing something that sounded like a curse, Rafaele took over, turning her around and finding the zip, pulling it down and peeling the heavy fabric from her body.
Sam kicked off her shoes. Now she wore only black lace panties. Rafaele turned her around again and that hot green gaze swept down her body, lingering on her breasts, which seemed to swell and tighten under his look.
‘You’re so beautiful.’
Sam ducked her head. ‘No, I’m not.’
Rafaele tipped up her chin, forcing her to look at him.
‘Yes, you are.’
He’d done this before—made her feel buoyant. Feminine. And it had all been ripped to pieces when he’d rejected her. But Sam couldn’t focus on that now.
He pulled her into him again and Sam swayed towards him like a magnet. He kissed her, tongue thrusting deep, fanning the flames of lust within her. He was naked now, and her hand instinctively sought to touch him, finding and encircling his erection, moving up and down, feeling the slip and slide of satin skin over all that steely strength.
His mouth not leaving hers, Rafaele skimmed his hand down from her breast over her belly, down to her panties and underneath, his fingers seeking and finding that sweet molten spot, making her legs part so that he could have more access.
As he stroked and explored Sam broke off the kiss. And then one of Rafaele’s fingers thrust inside her and Sam’s legs went weak with the sharp, spasming pleasure that gripped her.
With dextrous hands Rafaele pushed her panties down and lifted her, to deposit her on the bed. Sam could only look up at Rafaele and marvel at his sheer masculine magnificence. He was so broad and powerful. Narrow waist and hard-muscled thighs and between them... Her mouth watered.
She sat up and looked up at Rafaele. He was watching her almost warily and she felt a heady rush of power. She moved to the edge of the bed and reached for him, her hands going to his hips, pulling him towards her.
‘Sam...’
She ignored him and drew his length into her hand, and then she took him into her mouth. The remembered taste and feel of him was like an explosion on her senses. She barely heard his deep moan of satisfaction as she swirled her tongue around the bulbous tip, relearning his shape and what made him tense. His hands were in her hair, gripping her head.
Her hand encircled him and her mouth and tongue licked and sucked. He’d taught her how to do this.
‘Dio, Sam...’
Sam felt him tensing, the instinctive thrusting of his hips towards her, as if he couldn’t help himself. His hands were trying to pull her back, but she knew it was against his will. He’d never let her go this far before but stubbornly Sam wanted to see him lose control because of her and she kept going, ignoring his rough entreaties, until finally she felt the heat of his climax gush into her mouth and throat, felt his hips jerking.
Sam kept her mouth on him for a long moment and then finally pulled back. She couldn’t help a smile when she saw Rafaele’s dazed-looking expression. Slowly that expression cleared and his eyes narrowed on her. She felt a shiver of trepidation mixed with anticipation go through her and recognised that he wasn’t happy with the way she’d made him lose it like that. She felt more powerful in that moment than she’d ever felt...
Rafaele bent down and loomed over her on his hands, forcing her to move back onto the bed. She collapsed onto it.
‘I think I’m going to have to restrain you...’
Sam looked at Rafaele blankly for a second, and then watched him stand up and go to a nearby cabinet. He pulled out two long slivers of silk and she realised they were ties. Something deep inside her quivered—but it wasn’t with fear, it was excitement. She didn’t know what he intended but secretly wanted to find out...
He took each hand and quietly wound a tie around each wrist, knotting it. Sam looked at him and bit her lip. Then Rafaele stretched her hands over her head, and Sam only realised what he’d done when she couldn’t bring her hands down again...he’d tied them to one of the bed’s four posts.
‘Rafaele... What...?’
He came back down and over her. Not touching her, but letting her feel his body heat. ‘I want you to know what it feels like to lose control...’
Sam could have laughed. She lost control every time she looked at this man! And there was something that felt so wickedly decadent about being restrained it overshadowed the sliver of discomfort. She trusted Rafaele above anything else, and that deep-seated knowledge shook her now. She hadn’t realised just how much she trusted him till this moment.
He bent his head then, and his mouth was a hot brand on hers, opening her up to him, demanding a response which she gave unerringly. Already she felt the frustration of being bound. She wanted to touch him but couldn’t. She moaned softly with it, and could have sworn she heard Rafaele chuckle darkly.
His mouth moved down, trailing over her jaw and neck. His hands were smoothing over her body, touching her but staying away from erogenous zones, making her grit her jaw to stop herself from begging. Her hands pulled ineffectually at the silken ties.
And then Rafaele’s mouth was on her breast and her back arched. Yes. He lavished both taut peaks with attention until they were tingling and stinging. His hand had moved down to her belly and, like a wanton, Sam felt her legs part in mute appeal. Rafaele reared back for a moment and looked at her body. Sam gazed down to see his arousal already hard again, still glistening wetly from her mouth and tongue. She ached inside.
Rafaele’s hand went to the juncture at her legs and then he was moving down, his mouth leaving little trails of fire as he pressed kisses under her breasts, to her abdomen and down. Sam’s breath stopped when she felt him pull her legs wide apart. Her hands pulled at the ties. She’d never been so bared or so vulnerable.
Rafaele’s mouth settled there, between her legs, and Sam’s breath came back, choppy. She felt too hot, too tight, too...sensitive.
‘Rafaele...’
But his tongue was on her now, exploring her sex, finding where she was so wet for him, opening her up, stabbing deep, making her moan uncontrollably, making her hips twitch. And then his tongue was replaced by his fingers, thrusting deep, and his other hand had found her breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching a nipple.
A broken scream emerged from Sam’s mouth—a feral sound. Her hips were lifting off the bed, begging Rafaele for more, for him to drink from her as she came...as she’d done to him. And then the pleasure was peaking and spiralling out of all control, wresting her sane mind from her brain and leaving behind nothing but heat and deep, boneless satisfaction, with his mouth on her right to the end.
Rafaele
