by Sam Mariano
A pang of arousal strikes me, so I shove those thoughts away. That’s not helpful, dammit. I need to stop being turned on by thoughts of Sin. Thoughts of that horrible night should be enough to dampen any arousal, but instead I just think of how I felt when he grabbed my wrists and backed me up against the wall, mid-heartbreak. I still wanted the asshole to fuck me. Even as he ripped my heart out, I wanted him to claim it—and me—for himself.
There’s something wrong with my brain.
I didn’t want Rafe to fuck me when he was being a heartless asshole.
This train is going off-track, fast. Shaking it off, I turn my attention back to Rafe before I start visualizing Sin walking over to the bed to tie me up, that perfect ass on display as he dropped his clothes in the laundry basket. The most mundane shit, and still I miss it.
“Distract me,” I tell Rafe.
Cocking an eyebrow at me, he says, “I’m the one who gives the orders around here, kitten.”
“Please?” I add, with pointed sweetness.
A smile claims his lips and he steps away from the bathroom door, opening it up and stepping back outside. I don’t know why he dragged me into the bathroom to begin with, but before I can ask, he says, “Much better.”
He takes my hand and leads me back into the bedroom, but he’s not doing the job I need him to do. I understand why he isn’t—he’s not on solid ground with me right now. Due to his own fuck-ups, he lost all the ground he had, and now he has less than he had the moment he met me.
The problem is, Sin is still in my head, and with Rafe still playing catch-up, Mia’s offer looks much better to me than anything that brings me back to Vegas. I’m not completely closed-off to giving Rafe a shot, but I’ve never been as close to him as I got to Sin, and I’m honestly terrified of how I’ll feel the first time Sin walks through the door. They work closely, so I know it will happen. Hell, they’re friends. I won’t just see Sin once in a great while, I’ll see him often. How do I do that? How do I look at him like a normal person now, like a friend of my boyfriend, if things actually progress with Rafe? Will the impulse still be there to drop to my knees and worship his body? I know it won’t come up, but will I still want to? That will be torture.
I’ve never had to be friends with an ex before, so I’m damn sure not primed for whatever this is. Hell, even adoring Sin, Rafe could stir up some of my feelings. How do you look at someone you’ve been so intimate with and act like they’re nothing to you?
“Laurel.”
The sharpness of Rafe’s tone and his serious expression lead me to believe he spoke to me, and I must have missed it. “Sorry. What?”
“What would you like to play?”
Play? I don’t think I agreed to playing. I know what kind of play he likes—it involves both of us naked and doing things my heart isn’t ready for. Purposely obtuse, I brighten. “Cards?”
His tone completely dead, Rafe repeats, “Cards.”
I nod my head, even though I don’t technically know how to play poker. It seems like a game he would be into. “Sure. Let’s play poker. I don’t have much money, so you’ll have to front me some.”
Faintly smirking, he tells me, “I don’t think you can afford my interest rates.”
“Come on,” I say, trying to entice him. “You’re Mr. Vegas. You must like poker, right?”
“The fact that you want to play two-person poker makes me think you’re not much good at it. Strip poker? You’re not wearing much. That won’t take long.”
I lose a little enthusiasm. “Strip poker? I don’t know how to play that.”
“Easy,” he says, smoothly. “You lose a hand, you remove an article of clothing. Then you don’t have to borrow money from the mob—you have all the currency required to play.”
“I’m only wearing a dress, panties, and a bra. I don’t even have socks.”
“Damn,” he says dryly.
Trying to lure him away from the end game of getting me naked, I tease him. “I think you’re just afraid you’ll lose if we play it straight. The big, bad, Vegas boss beaten by a 19-year-old science nerd.”
His hands shoot out, grasping my wrist, and he pulls me onto his lap faster than I can blink. My heart skitters, and Rafe situates my thighs around his hips so I’m straddling him. “I feel I should warn you, I don’t do well with brats, kitten. You know what brats get? Brats get punished, and you’ve already racked up quite a debt these past few days.”
It’s harder to keep a safe distance when I’m straddling his lap, inches from his handsome face. “I have a debt? I didn’t borrow anything.”
His eyes follow the curve of my shoulder and move along my breasts—then his finger follows the same trail. His light caress is usually relaxing, but it feels a touch foreboding right now. “You didn’t borrow anything, strictly speaking, but you gave something away. Something that was supposed to belong to me.” One hand settles on my hip and the other moves around the back of me to grasp my ass. “I know you’re still sad right now, so I’ll be nice. I won’t make you pay me back just yet.”
My heart pounds harder as he leans forward, brushing his lips tenderly across my collar bone.
“But remember, I have steep interest rates, kitten, so you’ll want to start working off your debt soon. Wouldn’t want you getting in over your head.”
That shouldn’t be sexy. Nothing should stir, knowing that while he’s only playing with me, he probably means all these things when he says them to other people. The man whose lap I’m in probably ruins lives on the regular—issues hits and takes them altogether, if people get out of line. Why does that turn me on?
I feel like pushing him a little, so instead of keeping quiet or accommodating him, I decide to be a brat. “What if I don’t want to pay you back? What if I don’t think I owe you anything?”
I don’t notice him drawing the material of my dress up around my waist until it’s already done and his fingers dig into the soft globes of my nearly bare ass. My panties are so thin beneath his strong hands, so insignificant. He pulls me forward, forcing me against the hardness of his cock. He still has trousers on, but I know how quickly he could shed them.
His voice comes out rough as he drags me across his cock again. “You’re testing the limits of my kindness.”
I know I’m not ready for this, but my body—once again—is behind the times. I can’t help the physical response I have to what he’s doing, and for a moment, I wonder if I should just give in. Let him shut my brain off and fill my body full of pleasure. I know he can do it. He’s done it before. I don’t know how I would feel afterward, but at least while he’s inside me I know I’ll feel incredible.
Doing my best to resist the temptation even as he rocks his cock against my pussy again, I murmur, “Where did we land on that poker game?”
“Two-person poker isn’t much fun,” he tells me, running a slow hand up my thigh.
I catch his wrist, stopping him from sliding that devious hand between my legs. “Even strip poker?”
He dips forward and kisses the exposed ball of my shoulder. “That turns into fucking within a few minutes. We could skip the card-playing and get right to it.”
Looking at his shoulder instead of his face, I tell him, “I’m not ready.”
“Let go of my wrist and I bet I can make a liar out of you,” he tells me.
“I don’t mean my body isn’t ready. My body is ready. My heart isn’t. My head isn’t.”
Rafe sighs, but he doesn’t break my grasp and push further, which he could easily do. A moment passes in silence, then he says, “We could invite Mateo and Mia.”
My eyes widen and I lean back. “Excuse me?”
His eyes dance with mischief. “To strip poker. More fun with more people.”
“No way. Are you nuts? I’m not taking my clothes off in front of them.”
“Why not?” he asks lightly, his gaze dropping to my chest. His hands follow and he squeezes my breasts like he has a right to.
�
��Because aside from Mia being gorgeous, your cousin is terrifying. When I catch his glance, I lose a year off my life. My assumption is that nudity draws his gaze move frequently than sitting at the dinner table fully dressed. I’d drop dread by the end of the game.”
“I won’t lie and say he’s not a shit-stirrer, but he only has eyes for Mia. Unless you plan on playing with her, you don’t have to worry about snagging his attention.”
Biting back a smile, I say, “That suggestion came a little too easily.”
He plays at innocence—which is a joke. “What do you mean? I hate watching two beautiful women play with each other. It’s just the worst.”
I shove him in the shoulder. “I’m not into girls.”
“You don’t have to be into girls to play with them. Some kissing, some petting… I might be willing to knock down some of your debt for a little supervised playtime.”
I shake my head at him. “This isn’t going to happen. I’m not even completely sold on you, so I’m definitely not going to make out with a girl for your viewing pleasure.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs, reaching behind my back and tugging my zipper down. “You’re not being very playful tonight, kitten.” Taking my hand and placing it on his crotch, he asks, “What am I supposed to do about this?”
“Why don’t you imagine me doing your bidding and get yourself off to that.”
His eyes narrow on my face, then he grabs a fistful of my hair and moves me off his lap.
“Rafe…” I begin, as he lowers me to the floor by the hair on my head.
“Quiet,” he says, using his free hand to take his cock out.
Tummy taut with uncertainty, I look up at him. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, while a deeper, more primal part of me latches onto the feeling of being where I belong. I’m like a cornered animal, balancing here on my hands and knees with Rafe’s firm grip on my hair. My heart knows it isn’t ready to do this all over again, but something deeper craves the domination.
Still, I have to object. “Rafe, please, I’m not ready.”
My words don’t faze him. The sight of his long, thick cock reminds me what it felt like when he first pushed it inside me. The way I cried out and grasped for purchase above me, certain he wouldn’t fit. The instant pleasurable friction as his sizable instrument rubbed my walls the way no cock had before. I’d never come so fast, and he hadn’t even touched my clit. Prior to that moment, that was the only way I got off.
And that was only the beginning. Not even the appetizer, more a glance at the menu.
Fuck, I am out of my depths here.
Rafe jerks my head forward and I swallow my nerves, biting down on my lower lip as I eye up his dick.
“Put it in your mouth.”
I lean forward and open up, taking just the tip between my lips. I forgot his taste, but the salty flavor hits my tongue now as I drag it across his smooth head. I tell myself it’s already done, he’s already in my body, but something within me still resists.
Sin.
The part that still belongs to him, probably.
Double fuck.
My skin is hot, and I don’t know whether it’s from arousal, a faint sense of shame, or both. I pull my mouth off Rafe’s dick and rear back, but he doesn’t let up on my hair even a little bit. In fact, he tugs harder, spinning me around until I’m on my ass with my back pressed against the bed. I see his legs on either side of me, and I fight his hold, tugging my own hair even though it hurts.
“Let go,” I tell him.
His chuckle is a low hum in my ear as he leans down, locking an arm around my neck to draw me backward. His mouth hovers near my ear. I gasp in surprise and try to break free, but there’s no point. “You only had a taste,” he tells me. “You’re gonna take more than that tonight, kitten. I want you to kneel for me.”
I tip my head so I can meet his eyes when I glare at him. “No.”
Rafe shakes his head as if in disappointment, clucking his tongue. All at once, he releases my hair and my neck, but then he grabs me, lifts me, and dumps my body on the bed.
I go to skitter back, but get caught on the dress. Rafe smirks at me as he kicks off his slacks, then climbs on the bed with me. “Last chance,” he tells me.
What does that mean? I don’t have time to figure it out. Rafe grabs a fistful of my hair again and turns me over on my tummy. Cool air hits my legs as he drags my dress up, and he runs a hand over my ass. Before I have time to protest, Rafe draws his hand back and brings it down against my ass with a sharp smack.
I gasp, outraged. “Rafe!”
He yanks my hair, pulling me back like a bow. “Yes, kitten?” he answers, calmly. “Are you ready to suck my cock like a good girl?”
“Screw you,” I mutter.
“Maybe,” he answers, running his hand over the stinging spot on my ass. “I am looking forward to claiming this pretty little cunt again. I don’t even have to wear a condom now. I’ll feel every silky inch of you this time, won’t I?”
My head isn’t in the right place, so that feels like a threat. Like a thing to avoid. I know Rafe has no real intention of hurting me, he’s only playing rough, but the fear that travels down my spine would seem to indicate otherwise.
Since I haven’t amended my bratty behavior, Rafe brings another firm hand across my ass, then another. After the third swat, however, he pushes two fingers between my legs and rubs.
I moan helplessly, not wanting to get lost. I wanted it before. I wanted to submit to all the glorious torment he was putting my body through. I wanted to feel him move inside me, to brace myself on the bed while he fucked me like an animal.
When he rubs me now, when my body responds to him, I feel like a whore, and not in the sexy way. In the way that some confused part of my brain still feels like it belongs tied to Sin’s bed. I wouldn’t fight him like this—not unless he wanted me to, at least.
While physical pleasure builds from the rhythmic caress of Rafe’s fingers, my heart is twisting itself up in knots. Sin’s face flashes to mind and I try to crawl away, but Rafe shifts, pinning me to the bed with his knee and sliding a finger inside me. The passage is slick and easy. My breath catches and I try to wiggle my hips away, but a sharp stab of pleasure soars through me instead. I want to object, to make him stop, but my body wants the release more.
“Rafe,” I cry, closing my eyes.
He still has my head pulled back, but now he leans down to brush his lips across mine while he finger fucks me. I’m crawling out of my skin from the pleasure, so close I could cry.
“You want to come for me, kitten?”
I keep my eyes squeezed shut, but jerkily nod my head yes.
His tone is hard with displeasure and his grip on my hair tightens. “Is that how you ask?”
“Please. I want…” I grind against his hand, hating myself even as I seek release.
“Say it,” he demands. “Tell me who you want to come for, kitten.”
“Please don’t make me,” I say instead.
“I can give you my cock instead,” he offers, mildly.
I swallow, still resisting, but when he moves I don’t know if his next position will be between my legs, so I give up. “I want you to make me come, Rafe.”
He rewards me with a soft kiss on the lips as his fingers work my pussy. “See, now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he murmurs against my lips. “Come for me now, Laurel.”
I cry out until my voice wavers, ending on a muted scream. Rafe lets go of my hair and I bury my face in the pillow, clutching it with both hands as he draws out my orgasm just to punish me. It’s a strange punishment, but it’s like he knows right now it’s the perfect one. My body needed the orgasm, but now he’s just making me fucking revel in it.
I want to hit him, but I don’t have the strength. The orgasm finally subsides, but I can’t catch my breath. As soon as I do, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.
Before I can make good on my silent threats, he rolls me over on my back, pins me do
wn with his thighs, and starts stroking his cock, way too close to my face. My gaze darts up at him. “What are you doing?”
“Taking your mouth,” he states.
“No,” I object, shaking my head wildly. “No.”
“Then stop me,” he says, easily.
Yeah, right. He has me pinned here like—
Then it hits me. I have a safe word. I can stop any of this, I just forgot. Before I can decide whether or not to utter it, it’s too late—Rafe pushes his cock inside my mouth, and then there’s no talking. Fuck. I grab onto his thigh and look up at him as he eases his cock about halfway in.
All of a sudden, the fight goes out of me. He has me effectively pinned. He won. My mouth is so full of him I can’t speak, and my body is still humming from the spitefully long orgasm he gave me.
There’s little point fighting him now. He’ll take my throat or he’ll let me suck his cock—one or the other is going to happen. Maybe both, because I can’t stop it.
Your mouth will be too full of my cock to use your safe word.
Ouch. Tears sting behind my eyes at the memory, so different from this one. Sin’s tenderness as he teased me. He ridiculed my safe word, but still reminded me I had one. I didn’t need one. I wanted him to invade me—and he did. And he’s still there, even though he shouldn’t be.
I close my eyes, afraid Rafe will notice them shining. I guess with his dick lodged halfway to my throat is a good time to get teary-eyed if I have to. If I can’t keep my shit together, I’ll just lean up and take him deep. He’ll think it’s his cock making my eyes water instead of the memory of someone else’s.
This should be an escape. Sex should shut my brain off. It did before, but now the thing I’m running from is stuck here with me. Even halfway across the fucking country, I feel this torn. Sin may as well be standing in this room watching me right now.
If he were, I’d drop to my knees and beg for the chance to worship him. I wouldn’t fight his domination like I’ve fought Rafe’s tonight; I would welcome it.
What is wrong with me?
