“I can stop,” he says even as he languidly inches his long fingers towards my wet center and carefully glides them through me.
I moan as he stokes the flicker into a flame.
“No. That wouldn’t be wise for you,” I say on a pant. “I read a study that said orgasms can boost productivity and focus—and make you feel happier.”
“Is that so?” he says, winding me higher with tight, firm circles on my clit, before finding my entrance and pushing his hard length into me from behind.
“Uh-huh,” I groan as he rocks into me faster, seeking his release. “I like happier Raf,” I say as he finishes with a shudder inside me, before going down on me.
It’s quick and dirty, and once Raf makes his way back up my body, he finds my mouth and kisses me with the taste of us on his lips. It feels a little wicked, but I can’t get enough.
“Princi Law & Associates sends their thanks,” he says. “I can already tell I’m going to be ninety percent more productive today.”
I giggle. “But not happier?”
“Eh, we’ll see what the day brings,” he says. “Sorry I ruined your sleep-in.”
“I’d rather take eight orgasms over eight hours’ sleep, but maybe you’re just too horny for my own good.” I laugh. I mean really, who could blame me when I sleep in a bed that feels as soft as clouds, pressed up against a man with the body of an Adonis and a tongue that delivers pleasure in many forms.
Once Raf leaves for work, I do a bit of image editing before heading to some beauty appointments. Tonight I’ll be attending the fancy-pants law dinner as Raf’s plus-one, and in a few days all our secret work to throw Sophia and Marco the best engagement party will unfold.
While I’m at my last appointment, Natalia’s executive assistant calls, asking me to go by the office and collect paperwork for my visa application. When she hands it over, she explains it urgently requires a “wet” signature from my lawyer. When I give her a weird look, she explains with a little smirk that it means a written, not digital, signature. I’m guessing my face may have given away what type of “wet” I was thinking, which of course led me to think about Raf, which then led to me making a last-minute decision to drop by his office to have him sign said paperwork while I’m looking like a treat. Skin glowing,hair and makeup freshly done, and my cute new cowboy boots that Raf has threatened to burn on multiple occasions peeking out under my silk midi skirt.
I press the level to Princi Law & Associates’ floor, the very top of the building, and greet Janice, the receptionist who I sat with at the Law Gala, like an old friend. Am I trying to butter her upso she’ll let me in to see the boss knowing full well I’m not in his calendar? Abso-fucking-lutely.
“Miss Gigioliotti, you don’t look to be on his calendar. Are you sure you made an appointment?” she asks, clicking around and tutting.
“Oh, that silly man,” I say, hamming it up. “I told him at breakfast to make sure he told you I would be popping in for him to sign papers.”
Her eyebrows arch in my direction at that comment, clearly a revelation given the shock on her face.
“I didn’t realize that you and Mr. Princi are cohabiting?” It’s half statement, half question, but I don’t confirm or deny either. I just push on with my agenda, which is getting into my man’s office with the excuse I have paperwork that requires a “wet” signature in hopes he might like to indulge in some wet and wild on the side.
“I’m so sorry to cause any inconvenience. I can text him myself if you prefer. I just thought going through the proper channels would be better.”
“No, no. He has some time blocked out for lunch. Let me take you through.”
I follow her towards his office and steal a moment to take Raf in before Janice knocks to make our presence known. He’s standing in front of his floor-to-ceiling windows behind his desk with his arms braced over his head.
I can see his shoulder muscles tense under his shirt, and there’s something about the stance that feels troubled. An uneasiness settles in my stomach like it always does when things seem to be going too well for me. It never lasts.
“Mr. Princi, Ms. Gigioliotti is here to see you.”
Raf spins, and I immediately clock the small black phone in his right hand. It’s the type of phone AJ would call a burner, and an odd sensation courses through me as Janice forges on.
“She insists she told you at breakfast she was popping in today and you forgot to put it on your calendar,” Janice adds.
I follow his hand as he quickly but smoothly pockets the device. The tolling of the warning bells sharpens, but then he lowers his gaze and looks me over, holding his chin like he’s deep in thought with the hints of a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.
“Hmmm, let me think…was that before or after I went down”—he gives me a knowing smirk, deliberately adding a pause like the tease he is—“to my den to get my laptop?”
“I believe it was after youcameback from the den,” I volley back.
“Aha, that makes sense. Apologies Janice. Next time I’ll send you a message so you can add it to the calendar.”
“No problem. Should I close the door on my way out?” She raises her eyebrows at him.
“Yes, please,” he says, not taking his eyes off mine as I walk towards him and he crosses the room to me, eyes darkening the closer he gets.
