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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Without warning, hismouth smothers mine. It’s the first time our lips have met, and all my pent-up desire to be kissed by him rushes through me, exploding fireworks in my brain as he ravages the surface of my mouth.
He chooses to kiss me now? All those other times, when our lips were mere inches apart, I had yearned for him to kiss me. Right now, I’m pissed off. Pissed that he had fucked me hard. Pissed that after making me feel bad for all the horrible things that happened to him and his family, he’s still a cold-blooded gangster. He doesn’t deserve my empathy. He doesn’t deserve to kiss me.
I struggle beneath him, but my movements seem to make his cock harden, so I stop. I can feel myself slipping into his kiss, though I don’t want to lose my grip on anger. In my situation, there are few opportunities to exert myself, and allowing him to kiss me is a small stake I can claim as my own. Only his kiss feels every bit as intoxicating as I imagined it would be. There’s a ruthlessness to the way he consumes my mouth, but it’s not reckless, messy, or clumsy.
When his tongue delves into me, I know I’ve lost.
But before my surrender is complete, a voice on the intercom interrupts us.
“Sir, Red Hong is trying to reach you.”
Rafe parts his lips from mine, reluctantly it seems. I’m glad for the chance to catch my breath but disappointed that the thrill is over. We stare at each for several seconds before Rafe releases me and pushes himself up.
He gets up and walks over to the intercom. Depressing a button, he says, “I’ll be in my office in a few minutes.”
Going over to an armoire, he pulls out a beautiful burgundy and gold silk robe, which he hands to me before he picks up his clothes and dresses. I slip into the robe. I can’t decide whether or not I’m glad the kiss is over. I’ve never been kissed like that before, and my lips are still tingling from it.
“I have to go, but you’re welcome to stay,” he tells me.
I can’t imagine why I would want to hang out in his torture chamber, but I reply, “I think I’ll go back to my room and soak in the Jacuzzi bathtub.”
We walk into the other room, where I pick up my clothes. I’m sure I look disheveled, and I wonder what people would think of me walking through the halls wearing only a robe. But I don’t plan on seeing any of these people ever again, so do I care what they think?
Outside the room of erotic art, we’re met by Chung.
Rafe turns to me. “If you need anything, I’ll have Vladimir posted at your door.”
“Can I use his phone?” I inquire.
“Only to try your brother.”
“What about Alessandro? Can I talk to him?”
“I’m handling Alessandro.”
He leaves at that. I head to my bedroom, where I fill the bathtub with water and some bath salts I find. Turning on the jets, I tuck myself into the hot, scented water. I still feel a little raw between the legs, but my nipples seem to have recovered. I’ll know better when I try to put on a bra.
It was all worth it, though. I’ve never had this many orgasms in a forty-eight hour period. They can be addicting. And I didn’t think I could get so aroused, given the surroundings.
In my mind, I run through all the different apparatus I saw in his torture chamber, wondering, with the exception of the rack, if they justlookintimidating. I’m sure it’s no fun to be locked in the pillory or bent over the A-frame, but it’s what else Rafe can do that worries me. He didn’t even use any of the equipment besides the bed and rope. His hard fucking was enough to make me know that I don’t want to deceive him.
I wish he could see that I’m telling the truth about the Morelli. My brother had to have gotten it to Alessandro, though it is worrying that my brother isn’t picking up on any of my texts or calls. It could be he doesn’t trust any blocked IDs or numbers that aren’t mine, but Peter isn’t super paranoid.
Something must be up. Maybe something Peter hasn’t told me. But what could that be?
I go back to the possibility that Peter’s just having such a crazy good time in Costa Rica that he’s oblivious to anything else. I really, really hope that’s the case.
