A Need So Insatiable

by Cecilia Robert

  “Where were we?” he asks, slipping a hand down my butter-yellow, baby-doll dress, trailing a finger up my inner thigh.

  “Beg,” I say, even though I know I’m laying myself in the lion’s jaws. I like when he loses control. When he’s unrestrained. “I want you to beg. On your knees.”

  His nostrils flare. His fingers stop moving, and he stiffens. I should stop. Ease the tension cracking through the air like static. He stands abruptly, prowls to the entrance door and flips the lock into place. He spins around and my mind screams, “Run, Sophie!” But before my reflexes kick in, I’m flat on my back, trapped beneath a tense wall of muscle. It’s such a turn on.

  He grabs my wrists and slides them up, shackling them with one hand, then cups the side of my face with the other. Before I can catch my breath, his mouth crushes mine. I automatically open for him, taking in his air. His scent.

  “Is this begging enough for you?” He growls the words, and before I can answer, meshes his lips with mine again, sliding his hand from my face, running his fingers along my collarbone, then down the rise of my breast, my thigh. He hooks his fingers behind my knee and yanks my leg to his waist. He brings that hand back up and threads his fingers in my hair, fisting it. “And this?” He glares at me through eyes dark as sin.

  My body is a furnace and my mind is a chaotic place, full of thoughts I can’t begin to explain. Feelings I can’t say out loud because, if I do, there aren’t enough letters in the alphabet to form the words. I open my mouth, and the only thing that slips out is, “Not enough.”

  Another growl tears from his throat as he scoops me up. “We’ll see about that,” he grunts.

  I stare as he carries me upstairs, the ceiling dashing past me. My mind screams, “Yes!” with every heavy footfall of his booted feet. We enter my bedroom and he tosses me on the bed.

  “How very gentle of you, Rafael.” I giggle as I bounce several times. Scooting up to the headboard, I watch as he strips off his V-neck t-shirt, followed by his jeans. His long, muscular thighs come into view and . . . oo la la!

  “Still holding on to the scouts’ motto, eh?” I say, my eyes trained on his erection, standing proudly, just like the man himself.

  “Prepared is the word, Butterfly, body and mind.” He folds his clothes, meticulous as always, and arranges them on my computer chair. He stalks back, halting beside the bed, his gaze walking every inch of my body. His dark eyebrows pull down slightly.

  “I’m torn between devouring that sweet ass, and kissing you until no dirty word passes through those delectable lips.”

  “So, no begging.” I fake a pout.

  “Begging is for fools.” His voice is arrogant, strong. The bed sinks as he crawls toward me, a hunter stalking his prey. “Fools who don’t know better than to want. Need. Who are foolish enough to desire someone as special as you. Who feel as though they’ll die if they don’t possess you. If you don’t possess them.” He shifts forward and I part my legs, hooking them on his waist, pulling him closer until he’s snuggled tightly between my thighs. He drops his lower body, pressing against mine, hip to hip. He supports his upper body with his elbows, cupping my face with his fingers. “I’ve been a fool for you from the moment I laid eyes on you. For fourteen years, Sophie, I’ve been waiting to make a fool of myself. I love you. I love you so much.”

  “Rafael . . .” I breathe out. Open my mouth. Close it when no words tumble out. “That was beautiful . . .”

  He traces a thumb down my cheek, his expression open and gentle. I try to speak, choke, and start sobbing. Rafael folds me into a hug, then rolls over and tucks my head under his chin.

  “If that made you cry, I’m worried what’ll happen when I ask you to marry me for the second time.”

  I jerk back and scramble to sit up. I gape at him, tears, snotty nose, and sobs happening all at once.

  “How can you say such a thing when you’re lying there naked, and I’m dressed?”

  “We could rectify that,” he says with a smirk. He shrugs when I don’t respond. “I told you when I was eleven, and I’m telling you now: I’m going to marry you, Sophie Fisher.”

  “God, what’s wrong with me? I’m a crying mess, and I can’t seem to stop.”

  “Come here,” He folds me into his arms again, laying his cheek on my hair. “Cry. Let it out. I’m here.” The dam breaks open and I tuck myself into him.

  It feels like years have gone by when I finally pull myself away, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “Thank you.”

  He kisses my forehead. “That’s why I’m here, Sophie.” He kisses the corner of my eyes, my nose, my jaw. “But I want to touch you so fucking bad.” He shifts his body, pulling away from me, and starts to undo the tiny buttons on my dress, his lips on my jaw, neck, collarbone, kissing the swell of my breast through the fabric. And I’m burning. I don’t care if my body goes up in flames on the spot.

  “Well, it’s about damn time,” I say. He tosses his head back, laughing. The sound rolls off my skin. Deep, dark, liquid gold. I slide my hands up his hard stomach, tracing the ridges of his abs. He shuts his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “You’re pretty.”

  His eyes flip open, and his intense gaze locks on mine. “Boys aren’t supposed to be pretty.” He repeats the same words he’d uttered that night on the front lawn.

  I flick my tongue along his skin. He inhales sharply, his fingers fisting the front of my dress. “You are to me.”

  He groans, and within two seconds, he’s flipped me around so I’m lying flat on my stomach. “You drive me so fucking insane, Sophie. I want to have you right now. Bury myself so deep inside. Bite and lick every inch of this hot little body of yours.” He trails his fingertips down my back, and I feel his lips where my back curves. He moves up, dropping his body on top of mine, and buries his face in my hair. “You’re amazing, you know that? You’ve always made me feel loved. I was this broken, chubby little boy and I was mean to you, but you were so good to me. Why, Sophie?” His voice is muffled, and his breath warm on my neck.

  “You weren’t just a boy I met in the music room, Rafael,” I say, squirming underneath him. He eases up, and I flip around to lie on my back. Once I’m settled comfortably, he carefully lowers his body on mine, readjusting his weight.

  Jesus, I can’t think straight with his dick pressing on me like this. Swallowing hard, I cup his face instead of the huge erection demanding my attention down south.

  “You were the boy I fell in love with after just a glance. And a scowl from you, might I add.” He chuckles. “You stole my heart, and when you kissed me in Konrad Theater a few weeks ago, I swear your breath reached inside me and kissed my soul. You don’t just own my heart, Rafael. You own my body. You own me.”

  He blinks hard, as if trying to fight tears, and lowers his mouth to mine, closing his eyes, but I don’t. I watch the series of emotions rushing across his face until peace settles on his features. Opening his eyes, he stares down at me, inhaling deeply.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  I slide my hands to cup his ass, squeezing it lightly. “You realize we were about to have a very hot makeout session, right?” I ask, hoping to bring a smile to his suddenly serious face.

  He drags a hand through his hair, and looks over my shoulder. His gaze is wide as he lifts his face to look at me. He licks his lips and clears his throat. “When I was six, I was diagnosed with a developmental reading disorder. I can’t read. I’m not so good at writing, either.”

  Ah, now I get why I always read the reports for him, and why there’s no computer in his office. I hadn’t noticed it when he was eleven, because he’d never done anything but play. When I’d offered him some paper and crayons to draw, he’d declined, making some asshat comment.

  “I know,” I say. “I noticed, but didn’t want to ask you until you were ready. You’re good at math and music, though.”

  “Apparently, my brain connects music and math. I can’t really explain it, and neither could the doctor
.”

  He eyes me, then quickly pulls me to him. “You amaze me. You’re more like Olivia than you know.”

  My chest squeezes at the wonder in his voice. “How so?”

  “She always spared hurting someone’s feelings, if she could help it.” He throws a muscular leg over mine, trapping me in. “My father had a hard time dealing with the news. Christ, he cringed every time he looked at me. I wasn’t sure how you’d react. And once again, you blow my mind, Sophie.”

  My heart hurts for him, and the eleven-year-old-boy who’d been rejected by a father he’d obviously adored, over a learning disability. No wonder he’d been such a sad little boy. “I’m in love with you. Not your brain, or muscles, or our near-sex experiences--although those are all bonuses. I love you.”

  We fall silent. I lay my cheek on his chest. His heartbeat slows to a steady rhythm. I slide my hand over his stomach and then rest it on his abs. I could touch him all day.

  He digs his hand through my hair, combing it. He repeats the same gesture, humming under his breath.

  I close my eyes, smiling as sleep lures me under its spell.

  I could get used to this.

  Rafael

  I PARK my jeep outside Olivia’s Circle. My meeting ended half an hour early, and I wanted to see Sophie. She has a way of pulling me to her, and if she’s not in my vicinity, her blood calls to me. Urging me to seek her out.

  I stride inside, and glance around. Two men are fixing the ceiling over the bar. This place looks much better than it had the last time I was here. Sophie’s been worried that it won’t be ready in time for the Grand Reopening in two weeks, but so far, she’s done a damn good job, especially with the extra help we hired. I stroll forward to study the beautiful, refinished counter, and once again, I’m amazed by what Sophie can do. I don’t have good memories of my father, so I envy her. But I’m glad she had someone like that to influence her life.

  The hair on my neck curls. I scan my surroundings and find Tony staring at me. His eyes are wide and he’s holding a slice of bread frozen midway to his mouth. He’s been living with Ben until we decide what to do, but he’s still as skittish as a baby squirrel around me. I hired some investigators to look into his background before we take any other steps.

  He continues to stare at me. I thought after years of being tough, nothing could perturb me. I was wrong. That boy scares the hell out of me. He reminds me too much of myself, my helpless, old self, before I became “Arie. The Master.”

  I clear my throat. “Hey, buddy.” I smile. He stops chewing altogether and sinks further into the seat, eyes huge. “I’m looking for Sophie.”

  He points toward the kitchen as Sophie happens to exit, giggling. Even in jean dungarees, crazy hair slipping out of a bun, and covered in dust, she looks tempting. Seconds later, a blond-haired guy comes trailing out after her. He slips his free arm around her waist and swings her around, laughing. He leans in to kiss her forehead, staring at her like . . .

  “Who the hell are you?”

  They swing around to face me in unison. Sophie’s eyes grow wide, and she pushes away from Blond Guy.

  “Rafael.” She walks over to me and presses a kiss on my lips. “That’s Carsten, my chef. Carsten, Rafael.”

  Carsten steps forward, one hand extended, a drill in the other. “Good to meet you,” he says cheerfully, and I want to rip that smile off his face.

  I reach out to shake his hand, squeezing a little harder than necessary. Someone has to show him that Sophie’s taken. It’s stupid and immature, but I can’t stop the jealousy coursing through me.

  I turn to focus on Sophie. Immediately, my gaze zooms in to the dimple on her chin, and my tongue itches to lick the labret on her lip. I force myself to look at her flushed face.

  “This place looks beautiful, Sophie.”

  She bounces on her heels, her smile lighting up the whole damn room.

  “Oh, I can’t take all the credit.” She motions over my shoulder with her hand. “Tony, over there, did a lot.” She beams proudly.

  “We need to talk.” I glance at Sophie.

  Carsten walks over to the boy and ruffles his hair. “Come on, Tony. Time to get back to work.” Tony scoots from the chair and follows him, darting a quick gaze at me.

  “You know Kravic won’t let Tony go without a fight, putting you in danger.” She stares at me for a few seconds, then nods and looks away, folding her hands over her chest and biting the corner of her lip. She thinks with her heart, this girl.

  “I had to save him, Rafael. He was frightened. I couldn’t toss him out. And I can’t let him go back. He’s still a child, and what they had him doing . . .”

  She runs a hand through her hair. “I know we should contact Children Protection Services, but I’m not handing him over to Kravic,” she says, her chin pushed forward. She seems to be trying hard not show how much she’s scared, but her chin trembles and her foot’s bouncing slightly.

  I pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead. “We’ll work it out. No one touches you, or anything that is yours. I promise. You hear me?”

  She stares at me. Christ, the way she’s looking at me . . . like I have the power to rearrange the stars and planets. I would, if it meant I never had to see the fear in her eyes when she mentions Kravic.

  “And how will you stop Kravic, Hulk?”

  “I just will,” I duck my head to kiss her neck, her jaw. She shudders when I nip the shell of her ear. “Because I can,” I whisper.

  “You’ll end up getting hurt.”

  “Ouch. So little faith, Butterfly.” She presses her petite body into mine and I can’t wait until the bet is over and she’ll be mine. I sink my face into the crook of her neck and breathe in her sweet scent. “Guess I have to share my little secret with you--I’m invincible.”

  “I’m serious. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. I can deal with hi--”

  I snap my head up. “Don’t ever talk to Kravic on your own. It will either be with me or Ben. But not alone. Never alone.”

  “Raf--”

  I pin her to the wall and slam my mouth to hers, silencing her. It’s unfair, but it works. Kravic is a bastard, capable of breaking her and tossing her away without a second thought.

  I run my fingers over her flat stomach, wishing the coarse fabric wasn’t so thick so I could feel her skin. She pulls away too soon, her ragged breathing mirroring mine, and drops her head onto my chest.

  “I know he’s not roses and perfume, so spare me the you’re-too-fragile-to-deal-this-guy shit.” She glares up at me. “I mean, what kind of monster misuses a fifteen-year-old?”

  The same one that took me under his wing and taught me survival. “The kind who doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  She harrumphs and sashays toward the bar. I groan, my gaze tracking the seductive sway of her hips. Readjusting the front of my pants, I trot after her, clenching my hands to stop them from grabbing and pinning her to the wall.

  “Where do you want me?”

  She turns, her gaze darting to the men chatting among themselves, and licks her lips. “W-what?”

  I sweep my arm around the restaurant. “What can I do to help?”

  “We have everything under control, for now.”

  “Sure, you do,” I say, remembering how Carsten had looked at her before. “Not leaving, Sophie, so you better tell me what needs fixing in order to get this place up and running.” So I can have you to myself.

  She throws her hands in the air and mutters, “Lights.”

  That I can do. I shrug off my jacket, roll my sleeves, and grab the ladder propped near the bar as Sophie heads toward the kitchen.

  To Carsten.

  “I’d like to take Tony home with me.”

  That has her attention.

  Good.

  She turns around and walks back to me, her hands crossed over her chest. The view of her squished breasts in that red top and dungaree straps is worth breaking my neck over.

 
“Are you sure?”

  At this point, staring down at her, I would agree to anything. “If you release him to my care. My flat is the safest place for him right now. No child should tread the path I did.”

  She frowns up at me. “Why?”

  “Because he needs a home before things get sorted out. And I can protect him.”

  “Get down here right now.” She flutters her hands at me, hopping around on the balls of her feet. I lift a brow at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Enough with the eyebrow thing. Get that gorgeous butt down here.”

  I grin at her, my foot hitting the floor tiles. “You think I have a gorgeous butt?”

  “Yes,” she says, leaping up and wrapping her legs around my waist. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you!”

  “You know I’d do anything for you.” And I would. She keeps surprising me with the stuff she does, although, sometimes, I have the urge to strangle her a little. “Come on. Let’s get this done so I can cook you dinner. Is everything all set for the reopening?”

  “Just a few more touches here and there. But I have a good feeling the reopening will be fantastic.” She grins. “Thank you for partnering with me, you big softie.”

  “Softie?”

  “Yep. You have a huge heart hidden behind that mysterious facade.”

  I laugh. “Your mother would be so proud of you,” I say. I swat her ass--something I’ve wanted to do since I came in and saw her wearing the dungarees. “Will you stay with me tonight? I need you there with us. I’m sure Tony’d feel more comfortable with you around the first few days.”

  She nods, and moves to where a laptop and printer stand on the counter. “Are you done with the lights? I need to turn the electricity on to print some stuff.”

  I nod, and check around for something else to do while she prints out some brochures for the opening.

  At 8:00 p.m., we leave for my flat with Tony dozing in the back seat of my car.

  Sophie

  OH NO, no, no. Christ, NO! This can’t be happening. Not now. Not when we’re this close to the Grand Reopening. Fisting my hands, I shuffle toward entrance as Carsten, Dani and Jace pour out of the gaping restaurant doorway.