I would be the center of her universe. Not Ibiza.
"The citadel?" she asked, her voice betraying her excitement. "Sorry," she winced with a laugh as she tempered her joy. I wanted to rage against the fact that she felt the need to diminish her happiness. Like she couldn't enjoy something without feeling guilty. "I'm a history geek. I'm going to college in the fall to get my Bachelor's in Anthropology."
"Why not just regular history?" I asked, prying into the parts of her mind that I couldn't know from watching her. Hugo knew her very well, but there were certain questions he didn't think to ask. His desire to know her didn't come from a unique fascination, though I knew the boy had come to care for her in his time with her.
I already knew Joaquin had questioned me far too often over the last few months as the looming deadline neared. He adored Isa primarily from a distance, as one might a younger sister he'd been separated from in a divorce. The man had never questioned my decisions prior to Isa, but something about her had wormed her way under his skin.
For that reason alone, he'd be her personal security once she knew the truth. Nobody would protect her better than a man who was brave enough to risk my wrath in an attempt to give her a chance at the best life possible.
"I find people oddly fascinating," she admitted. "I don't like them most times, so I don't want to actually have to deal with them regularly like a therapist would or something like that. But I find the study of culture and the overall human experience throughout history, and the ways we've developed, to be uniquely compelling."
I tugged her closer to me, ducking off to the side of the street to avoid other foot traffic as we stood in front of a shop window. "You hate people?"
"Well, not all people, but most of them, yes," she laughed sheepishly. "People are inherently selfish at the core. They'll do whatever it takes to get what they want in life, no matter who they hurt. I think that's really depressing." She laughed sheepishly, glancing down to the ground. Her cheeks turned pink when I cupped her jaw in my hand and leaned down to kiss her. She leaned into the touch, letting me fold her into my arms despite the public location.
Eyes came to us as I kissed her, but I paid them no mind when I pulled back and tucked my face into her hair to breathe in the scent of her, beneath the shampoo the hotel offered. Her products on El Infierno were an expensive version of the scents she seemed to prefer at home, an exotic mix of orange blossom and vanilla. The scent of them in the bottle when they’d arrived had made me desperate to smell them on her skin once more. But it would have to wait.
"I have been pleasantly surprised by you at every turn, mi princesa. I vastly prefer to spend my time alone," I said as I pulled back to stare at her. Wrapping a lock of long, chocolate hair around my hand, I slid it to the back of her head and gripped her there. "But that's not the case with you."
"I think that's somehow the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me." She chuckled lightly, the sound raising the hairs on my arms. I knew in that moment, I would do anything to hear the sound again and kill anyone who stood in the way of it.
I chuckled as well, turning her back toward the center of the street as we made our way up toward my favorite shop — the sole reason I would tolerate the trip into Dalt Vila anytime I was in Ibiza Town. "If you like history, then you need to see the museums on the mainland in Europe. All the monuments and the ruins are remarkable."
She sighed wistfully, her body sagging with the weight of a thousand worlds as it fell upon her. "I wish, but I don't know that I'll ever make it to Europe again. This was a freak thing where I had a paid opportunity to come to Ibiza. Coming back might be difficult."
I bit my lip to stifle the urge to tell her I would take her to see anything she wanted, if only she promised to be mine. Too much, too soon, and I would scare her off. Reminding myself that Isa hardly knew me came harder with every moment that passed.
"I am sure you'll find a way. We do what we must to achieve our dreams, do we not?" I asked, staring down at her as I said the words. She'd been everything I hadn't dared to dream for, a woman to match me, who called to me in a way I hadn't thought possible. "Come," I said, changing the subject as I dragged her into the little bakery.
"Señor Ibarra!" Samuel chimed from behind the counter. "¿Lo mismo de siempre?" he asked with a smile. Your usual? Reaching into his display case, he grabbed one of the massive pastries and slid it into the paper pocket to hand it to me.
"Gracias," I returned, handing him far more Euro than was necessary for the pastry. I would overpay him until the day I died if it meant I continued to have access to my favorite treat.
"What is it?" Isa asked as I pulled her into the little alcove between Samuel's shop and the jeweler next door.
"Ensaimada," I said, pulling it free and tearing off a piece of the spiral wound pastry. My fingers were instantly covered in powdered sugar as I handled it and held it up for her to take the first bite. "It's my favorite food on the planet. This ensaimada specifically, though my housekeeper makes a close second."
"Of course you have a housekeeper," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at me. Unlike most other people when they dared to be so defiant with me, her attitude only excited me. I touched the pastry to her lips, watching the powdered sugar stain them white briefly before she parted for me and let me rest the pastry on her tongue. In the moments before she closed her mouth and moaned, I was filled with the sudden desire to see my cum on her pretty pink tongue before she swallowed me down.
She chewed slowly, savoring the bite as I pulled a piece off for myself and ate it. The light, fluffy sweetness of the pastry exploded over my tongue like a cloud. "That's delicious," Isa said, swallowing finally.
"I'll feed it to you every day," I said, holding up another bite as she laughed and nipped my finger. We stood close to one another, finishing it in a comfortable silence. I loved that Isa spoke when she had something to say, but she didn't feel the need to fill every void in conversation with small talk.
Her level of comfort with the quiet, watching and listening to the people of Ibiza as they made their way up and down the streets, spoke to her as a person. She watched everyone. Listened to everything around her.
When the pastry was gone, I pulled the wipe out from the pocket where Samuel always stored it, using it to clean my fingers. Then I leaned in and licked the spare powdered sugar off Isa's lips, kissing her sweetly. "This is how you get to know someone, Princesa," I assured her, my lips brushing against hers as she nodded her agreement.
"Your way is better," she said with a breathy sigh, making me smile into her mouth as I molded my lips to hers. We fit together so flawlessly, it was a wonder I'd spent my entire life without her lips on mine and her body contoured to me. Never in my life had I felt such completion as I did with her in my arms, or the compulsion to kiss a woman.
Inhaling her scent, with the taste of ensaimada between us, I found my forever.
12
Isa
Rafe's hand warmed my spine through the gauzy fabric of my sundress as he guided me down the street.
My feet hurt. The consequence of hours of walking through the streets of Dalt Vila. Exploring the citadel had been everything I’d dreamed it could be as my hands touched stones that had seen centuries of history.
Entire generations of people had touched those walls, the essence of their souls captured in the porous rock. It made me want to contribute my spirit to the collection, to be a part of something bigger than me for once.
But all good things came to an end, and Rafael guided me away from the citadel when the sun started to set and the growl of my stomach echoed through the space. We made our way back down the paths to the lower part of the walled-in city, and Rafe guided me over to the edge. Leaning over the wall, I looked down at the cliff side where the blue water darkened as the sun went down. His lips touched the side of my neck as I bit my lip, suppressing the urge to moan.
Despite my exhaustion, my body came to life with even the slightest touch from him.<
br />
"Thank you for today. It was..." I paused, spinning to look up at his breathtaking face. It scared me to realize that I'd rather spend all my remaining time in Ibiza looking at him than looking at the ocean or watching the sunset. "Everything," I finished with a tiny shake of my head as emotion formed a lump in my throat.
He rested a single hand on my waist, the other cupping my cheek as he surrounded me. Was it so normal for men to be this physically affectionate? It seemed like he was always touching me, always claiming my body as his through a caress or staring into my soul through his remarkable eyes.
"You deserve everything," Rafe murmured, touching his lips to mine in the soft sweep of a caress. The hand at my waist slid down, grasping me around the back of the thigh and lifting while I squealed into his mouth. He deposited me on top of the edge of the wall, where I clung to him desperately as fear settled over me, and I pulled my lips from his.
I looked over the edge, panicking when I saw the water below me and the distance I would fall.
"I want to get down." I pushed closer to his body, trying to find a way down as he spread my legs and slid between them quickly. The terror was so strong that I never even noticed the people walking by and staring at the inappropriate position.
"I won't ever let you fall, mi princesa," he said, holding me firmly. "Fear can bring you to life." I shook my head, glancing back at the water once more as my lungs heaved with the rising panic attack.
I couldn't.
Anything but the water.
He yanked me tighter against him, bending his head to capture my lips with his as he held me still. I melted into him despite myself, desire mounting alongside my terror as I opened my mouth to his and our tongues met in a fierce tangle of passion. I hated him at that moment, wanted nothing more than to punish him for using my fear against me. Even though there was no way for him to know about the accident or the fact that I was terrified of water, my rage drove me higher and higher.
His hand slipped between our bodies, shoving my dress out of his way so he could slide it inside my white lace underwear and touch me. "Not here," I gasped into his mouth, but I couldn't stop him. Trapped between him and the water at my back, there was no escape from the onslaught of sensation he built inside of me. He worked in tandem with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, working my clit with his thumb as he pressed a finger inside and stroked that spot within me that made my legs twitch around him. "Rafe," I warned. His wicked touch distracted me from the worst of my fear, the harshness of my breath shifting from terror to desire while he finished me.
He yanked my head closer, swallowing the cry of my orgasm with the pressure of his lips on mine as I convulsed around him in my strongest orgasm yet. When I finally crumbled down from the white hot high, I slapped his chest in reprimand and pinched him until he stepped back and slid me down carefully.
"You asshole! I could have died!" I looked back over my shoulder, glaring at the offending water as I resisted the urge to cry. Even my fear hadn't prevented me from coming undone with his touch. It had driven me higher and higher.
He grabbed my face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs under my eyes as he stared at me as if he could will me to understand one simple truth.
"Never."
My heart pounded. The aggression in his stare as he watched me took me off guard, and I softened in his grip.
There was something dancing in his eyes, and I didn't think I'd ever understand it as he held me still and leaned in and captured my lips with his. The brand of his touch echoed through me, lighting me on fire despite the heat of desire only a moment before.
When he pulled away and took my hand to guide me down the street, I realized something particularly strange that hadn't been true when he’d sat me on the ledge.
There wasn't another person in sight.
My steps were wobbly as he guided me toward a little restaurant with outdoor dining roped off in the middle of the street. The sun had set fully while we had our moment overlooking the ocean, and stars lit the sky, and the shops kept the outdoor lights to a minimum to help reduce light pollution.
Never in my life had I seen so many stars or a moon so bright before coming to Ibiza.
He spoke in Spanish to the hostess at the restaurant, and she guided us to a table at the edge of the roped-off section. Moving to pull out my chair for me, he pushed me in as soon as my butt hit the chair. Tucking me up to the table while the hostess hurried off, he took his own seat across from me. Our server was with us as soon as he did, pouring ice water into glasses and setting them on the table while I reached over and snatched up my own to suck back greedy gulps. I'd been thirsty even before Rafe tormented me, so after he'd finished with me, I felt like a desert.
Rafe rattled off a list in Spanish without even glancing at the menu, shocking me as he ordered for me. It seemed presumptuous when he'd met me the night before, but I also didn't feel like dealing with the complications of choosing my meal with him. Knowing he'd be continuing to pay for everything we did together shouldn't have bothered me in the slightest, considering he could clearly afford it and I couldn't.
But the independent woman in me revolted against the idea, even if I knew it was probably a silly thing to worry about. I'd have felt compelled to order the least expensive thing on the menu out of obligation.
If I could even read it.
The server hurried off, leaving us in the small crowd of people dining outdoors. I rubbed a hand over my shoulder, wincing when the skin felt tight beneath my touch. It didn't look pink, not with the tone of my skin, but there was no questioning the symptoms of a sunburn.
"Does it hurt?" Rafe asked, studying the motion.
"Not too bad," I said. "Just a minor burn. Chicago isn't exactly known for its sunshine," I said shyly, realizing it was the first time I'd told him where I was from. I wasn't sure the decision had been a smart one, but there was comfort because it was a big city.
Isa was a common enough name.
He didn't comment, choosing instead to raise his water to his lips and take a sip. The server returned with a bottle of wine, pouring it carefully into two glasses for us. I smiled up at him, even if I wasn't sure I should drink. I didn't seem to be able to keep my head on my shoulders with Rafe when I was sober. If I got drunk, I'd probably let him fuck me on the table.
For the first time since I'd met him, there was tension in our silence. Things left unsaid after he'd pushed me outside my comfort zone and taken control of me in ways I wasn't sure I should like.
I couldn't say I hadn't enjoyed it, but it shouldn't have happened. It was reckless, dangerous. Not to mention that someone could have seen us. What would my mother have done if she'd somehow seen me?
I shuddered.
"I need you to know something, Isa," he said, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his. "I won't ever let anything harm you."
"Accidents happen," I sighed. "I'd just rather not take unnecessary risks like that again. Please."
He squeezed my hand. "Living is not an unnecessary risk, Princesa. When you're with me, you're perfectly safe and you never need to worry about a thing."
"You aren't God, Rafael," I laughed, the smooth sound of his full name rolling off my tongue even though I'd never used it before. "You can't make promises like that, when you have no way of guaranteeing you can keep them. I'd much rather you promise me nothing rather than have you lie to me."
He chuckled, the sound fading into the darkness as the hairs on my arms raised in apprehension. "I am most definitely not God," he said. "But I will never make you a promise I don't intend to keep. Anything that wants to hurt you would have to go through me first, and trust me when I say that is extremely unlikely to happen."
"Okaay," I said, drawing out the last sound as the server brought us a platter with some type of Crostini. "That doesn't protect me from falling off a cliff, and there's just no need to push those limits."
He studied me, holding up a piece of the bread for me to take the
first bite. His propensity for feeding me seemed odd, but I couldn't deny that it felt like an intimacy most men didn't afford to their casual flings. It helped me feel like I mattered to him in ways I hadn't expected.
Similar to the ways he mattered to me, even though he shouldn't.
The burst of acidic flavor hit my tongue as soon as I chewed. "Fear is how we know we're alive. I want to bring you to life, Princesa," he said, watching me carefully as I swallowed. His gaze on me felt knowing as I considered my response, eventually settling on the only thing I could give him if I expected the same in return.
Honesty.
"Then what do I do if I'm afraid of you?"
He stilled suddenly, setting the bread on the tray and wiping his hand on the napkin carefully. Something was so measured about the movements, like he worked to control his reaction and keep me from seeing something in it. "Why would you be afraid of me, Princesa? When have I given you reason to think I would harm you?"
"I didn't mean afraid of you physically," I admitted, furrowing my brow as the tight lines of his body relaxed suddenly. "I just meant—" I paused, not having expected having to explain my feelings. I had wanted nothing along those lines, and I should have kept my damn mouth shut. "We both know what this is. After my vacation, I'll go home and never see you again. You seem determined to make that as difficult for me as possible," I said with a quiet laugh. My relief that I'd found a way around my feelings was short-lived as his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. Anger touched every line on his face, morphing him from trouble to terrifying before he smoothed out the lines and smiled.
"Is it so bad to want you to think about me after your vacation is over?" he said smoothly, picking up his bread and taking a bite carefully. His face was flawless, beautiful once again, and I had to wonder if I'd imagined a phantom where there was none.
Until Tomorrow Comes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Beauty in Lies Book 1) Page 13
