I let go of his chest and arch backwards, raising my arms behind my head as I rock harder. Fuck, it feels so goood.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, hold on,” Rafael pants, his hands on my hips trying to still my movements, but I’m not having it. I’m too close to my own release to stop now, damn it.
Since I can’t move my hips with his iron grip, I clamp my knees tighter against his sides and lean forward onto his chest. “Uhn.” I moan, surprised at the sharp jolt of pleasure that rips through me.
Rafael lets out a tortured groan, and then he loses the battle too. His grip shifts, and he uses his big hands to rock me hard and fast over him, driving up into me with deep, brutal thrusts.
I lick his lower lips and one of his hands slides up tangling into my hair. The crown gets dislodged and falls somewhere on the bed, but I couldn’t care less when he’s kissing me so deeply, so thoroughly, his tongue stroking and sucking mine so seductively.
I rock my hips even faster, my abdominal and pussy muscles tightening as my climax builds higher and higher. He breaks the kiss to let out an agonized groan right against my ear—and it fucking obliterates what little control I had and sends me hurtling over the edge.
My cries are loud enough to shatter the windows and mingle with his strained groans as we both cum together in perfect synchronization.
Spent and shaking, I collapse onto his chest. His arms wrap around me possessively, and I sigh in blissful satisfaction, toes and spine still tingling.
What a way to start our first day as a married couple.
I must have dozed off because when my eyes flutter open again, I’m alone on the bed, body deliciously sore in all the right places. I raise my arms overhead in a luxurious stretch, glancing around the sun-bathed room.
What time is it?
I ease out of bed, wincing slightly, and limp towards the bathroom, my core muscles still quivering from him. I press a hand over my belly, heat blooming low again just from the memory.
In the bathroom, I find a new toothbrush package and make quick work of brushing my teeth. My gaze lingers on the huge bathtub.
Maybe next time.
I slip into the shower, turning the water hot, and gently wash my skin with soap that smells deliciously like him. My mouth actually waters.
When I get out, the bathroom is all fogged up. I use one of the towels to wipe the mirror clear and smirk at my reflection—at the faint finger-shaped bruises on my hips, the marks on my waist, the dark hickey blooming on my neck. I don’t even remember when he gave me that.
I’m still smiling as I walk back into the bedroom to thesound of my phone ringing. I scan the room for my purse and hurry towards the armchair where Rafael must have put it for me.
I take the phone out, my smile fading when I see the caller ID.Stacey.
I bite my lips as I answer. “Hello?”
Silence stretches on her end. For a second, I think the call disconnected. But then her voice comes, flat and cold. “You actually went ahead and married the man who murdered your father?”
I don’t know what I expected from her, but my heart sinks in disappointment, all the post-orgasmic bliss evaporating.
“Wow, no, hello, how do you do? Why did you quit your job? How did you survive two assassination attempts on your life?” No, how could you get married without me being there? “And by the way, he told me he didn’t do it.”
She’s silent for another few seconds. “He told you he didn’t do it and you believed him?”
My heart aches so badly I feel like I can’t swallow. Does she even care about me? “What do you want Stacey?” My tone turns harsh.
“You got married yesterday. What changed? The last time we talked, you hated his guts, and now you’re his wife? If I wasn’t so busy, I would’ve tried to stop you. What were you thinking? Is he threatening you with something? It’s not too late to have the marriage annulled.”
I laugh dryly, but I’m far from amused. “Annulment isn’t possible at this point.” My voice comes out loaded with meaning, and I hope she hears it.
She clears her throat. “I suppose I get why you might be attracted to him, and why you let him do… things to you. But my point still stands—you can end it if you want. Whether the marriage was consummated or not.”
Things to you.Like what we just did was somehow shameful instead of one of the most amazing experiences of my life.
“Did you call to try to convince me to end my marriage? Not because you were worried about theassassinationattempts on my life?” This is the third time I’ve mentioned that someone tried tokillme, and somehow, she keeps pretending not to hear
“I knew you'd be fine.” She dismisses my near-death experiences casually. “Those fuckers stood no chance against you.”
