I reach downward, my fingers coasting over her pussy, feeling the dampness of her arousal. But I don’t touch her, notyet. Although my cock is aching for it, growing harder with each second that I’m not inside her.
“Third, if you disobey me, you get punished.”
She gasps when I slap against her folds, jolting against me.
“Lastly,” I murmur, reaching back for her ass and kneading the soft flesh in my palm, “You don’t get to touch me.”
Her eyes narrow at that. “You’re kidding.”
“Sweetheart, you’re going to wish I was,” I release her hair and then smack her ass lightly, “Get on the bed, Liliana.”
She does, slowly climbing into the four-poster bed with wariness and lust mingling in her expression. She sits in the same position countless women have been in over the years and it looks fucking wrong.
This room is tainted with memories I’d rather scrub from my mind because nothing and no one even compares to her. An annoyed breath leaves my lips in a huff. I walk over to the bed and take a seat on the edge, lowering myself to it and turning away from her.
It’s official. I’ve gone insane.
The tension in the room dissipates, dousing us both in ice. A second later, I feel arms slide around my neck.
Liliana rests her face on my shoulder, “Aren’t you a little too young to be having performance issues, Rafaelle?”
A light chuckle escapes my throat, taking away all the anger and leaving me feeling somewhat empty and yet full at the same time.
“I can’t fuck you in here, Liliana,” I say soberly.
“I’m glad,” she breathes, her arms tightening even further around me. “I don’t want to be just another woman you slept with in this bed.”
“You’re not,” I tell her, my throat tight. “This room was the perfect excuse. It was easier to put up a wall in here, to drown out all the intimacy from my actions.”
“But with you, little siren,” I turn slightly, reaching for the curve of her neck and wrapping my arms around her throat. Her eyes bore into mine, twin peaks of bright light, soft and beautiful, “I want to feel fucking everything. You make me feel like I don’t have to put a wall up anymore. You make me feel vulnerable and sure, I hate it, but I want you in my space. I want you in my bed.”
“So take me there,” she says without hesitation.
Then she’s leaning forward. The second our lips meet, we both let out a soft gasp. Or relief, satisfaction in the wake of anticipation. It’s clear to me that we’ve both been wanting to do that. Aching for it. My hand around her neck tightens.
“You make me vulnerable too, Rafaelle,” she whispers.
“Put on your clothes, before I decide to fuck that tight, beautiful cunt of yours with my tongue in here,” I growl.
She rolls her eyes, “So romantic.”
After placing one last kiss against my lips, she climbs out, and I get to watch a show as she throws the dress she had been wearing over her head. Without her bra and panties, which are in two torn pieces on the floor. She frowns as she stares at them.
“You’re such a caveman.”
“Care to make things interesting?” I ask, leaning back on my hands.
She turns to me warily. My eyes are glued to her nipples that are still visibly hard under the material of her dress. My fists clench with the effort it takes not to walk up to her and rip it off.
“A race,” I grin. “To my bedroom.”
“I’m pretty sure this kink has a name,” she muses.
“It’s called primal play. You in? I’ll give you a head start.”
She shakes her head, “Your headstarts aren’t fair.”
“I promise it’ll be fair.”
