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“I’m sorry,” she cries out, in the same tone I’ve heard her say I’m coming.
“Don’t you dare.”
I slap her clit with my open palm, the water making the sound twice as loud and reducing part of the sting. “I’ve never been prouder, or more aroused in my fucking life, the way you commanded his pathetic little whimpering ass at your feet. But you do not say no to me.”
I pump my fingers in and out of her clenching pussy, relishing in the first hot flush of her orgasm, then a thinner liquid as she comes, all control stripped from her. Warmth coats both our legs, her cheeks red as she pisses herself under my hard glare, pleasure glazing her eyes and reducing her inhibitions, though not the humiliation I steal away for myself.
“Rafe,” she whispers, clinging to my forearm. Her body slides between us, pale feet skittering slowly on the shower tiles. Her body shivers in the wake of her need, another thing she can’t control.
The way she softens in my arms no matter what I do to her, how perverse my desires, ruins me. I push her forward, letting the spray hit the slope of her lower back, washing away our filthy needs. Her hands brace against the wall as I push my three slicked fingers into her clenching pussy all at once. Her back arches while I stretch her, then bury myself deep there without letting her ease into the brutal violation.
“You are my queen. Take everything I am, and tear apart for me.” I groan, kissing along her spine and licking the droplets away as I slam myself violently home. “Like I do for you.”
She screams into her wrist, bite marks dimpling her skin when her orgasm passes. Mine follows, too fast, but we’re wrapped in a vortex of need and unsated lusts, heat dripping along her thighs as I pound my tarnished soul into hers. Her name echoes back to me as I roar it to the heavens.
Barely able to stand, I gather her in my arms, cleaning her used body gently with Aegean Sea scents and spicy Cyprus cyclamen as she clings to me, still moaning and whimpering. The aftershocks last longer than we’ve ever experienced. Her hands shake on my shoulders when I lift her into my arms, drying her without speaking or losing contact. I stumble to the turned-down Alaskan king bed, throwing the cloudlike covers over our bodies and tucking her into the wall I make of my body, positioning myself between her and the world.
“I love you, Rafe,” she whispers, already dropping into nothingness.
I mumble the same words, following her, our arms and legs tangled together in a knot I’ll never untie.
Chapter Four
Two Lies, One Truth
Willow
Leaving Cyprus behind has a deep sigh leaving my body. Seated on the private plane I let my mind drift. Cyprus will always hold a special place in my heart. From being a safe haven when I needed it, to being the place where I lost the first little bit of myself to Raphael Gallo, and now because of the memories it will evoke of my fantasy being fulfilled.
Rafe has bulldozed his way into my life, and even though I know I should be pissed off I can’t find it in me. Yes, he is an overbearing asshole. But he’s my asshole. His domineering personality will have me climbing the walls shortly, I’m sure of it, but I owe him everything.
He rescued me from a fate worse than death when he could have chosen to return me to my demented uncle. He has avenged me, strengthened me, and supported me. His insanity and possessiveness know no bounds but I’m starting to appreciate his brand of insanity. His violence and demons speak to mine, allowing me an outlet for the darkness I have been forced to keep hidden for years.
“I would like to know what will become of my family’s name,” I say, facing my husband.
While my uncle, Sebastian, was still alive, it never occurred to me to try and restore my family’s name or our businesses. But now, it’s always at the forefront of my mind. Sebastian killed our parents, leaving my baby brother nonverbal at the tender age of twelve. He’s not uttered a sound since, and if I could bring Sebastian back and tear him apart all over again to avenge my baby brother, I would. Even though he’s a few years younger than me at sixteen, Roman should lead the Hernandez family once he comes of age. First, there needs to be something for him to take charge of.
“What do you mean?” Rafe frowns.
“I mean, the Hernandez name needs to be restored. It is Roman’s birthright.”
“Can I worry about keeping the Gallo name alive before trying to fix something I didn’t break?” he asks with irritation.
“Rafe,” I start but he cuts me off.
“No. I have more important things to focus on right now.”
Dom watches our exchange with a scowl but doesn’t utter a word.
His words are final and my heart breaks a little bit. I thought we were finally on even footing. Partners. But now I see that Raphael Gallo is exactly who he’s always been. He is only concerned with what is best for him and everything else takes a back seat.
“Willow?”
Regina’s soft voice pulls me from my torrid thoughts. Facing her, I take in her appearance for the first time since we boarded the plane. Her face is exceptionally pale, her forehead sweaty. She looks like she is going to vomit at any moment.
“Regina, are you okay?” I ask, concern tainting my words.
She shakes her head vehemently before jumping up and heading to the room in the back. Dom and Rafe watch her with concern. My husband moves to stand, but I halt him with a lifted hand.
