But I wonder if Raf even knows the door he just opened. I doubt it. He’s probably asked the question to a hundred women before. It’s how he sets the mood, and god, he’s dangerously good at it.
I want him to know.
I want him to bring those dark desires into the light.
To show me just how good it feels when he fulfills them. But I’m not nearly brave enough to give them a voice.
“Don’t you know?” I tease, wielding the question like a weapon just as much as a defense.
A low, wicked hum vibrates from his chest, tightening my nipples until they’re hard against his chest. “I think I can guess,” he growls.
Despite knowing it was a long shot, his response still makes my stomach sink just a little—to know that he doesn’t remember our first few nights together quite so vividly as I do.
But I push the thought aside. I’m done holding the past against him.
I don’t know what this is between us, but if it has a prayer of becoming something more than the contract we agreed to, I need to stop looking back.
So instead, I focus on the way his lips claim mine, the way his hands roam down my ribcage, his fingers curling around the hem of my shirt. He drags it slowly up my body, and I lift my arms, letting him strip me, inch by inch.
With impressive dexterity, he has my bra unhooked with the flick of his wrist, and as the straps slide down my arms, exposing my full breasts, I toss the lacy fabric aside.
Only then does Raf shrug out of his dress shirt, letting it fall in a heap on the floor as he pulls me into his arms, bringing our bare skin together.
The heat that pulses between us feels like it’s taken on a life of its own.
I can scarcely breathe around it, and even as my lungs burn, I want more.
So when his hands splay around the curve of my ass and he lifts me in his arms, I wrap my legs around him without question.
Then he’s carrying me across the room like I weigh nothing.
The bed takes us in a tangle of limbs and breath as we spill onto the mattress.
And when he kisses his way down my exposed flesh, it’s with far more urgency than he had this morning.
I stare up at him as he rocks back onto his heels, his fingers curling around the waist of my jeans, and he strips me of them in one fluid motion.
Then his sharp hazel eyes burn into mine as he takes his belt… and slowly draws it out of the loops of his slacks.
It comes free with a snap, and I gasp as he leans forward, capturing my wrists and bringing them together in a flash.
The leather bites into my soft skin as he quickly binds them with his belt—then forces them over my head, buckling me to the headboard with such practiced ease, it makes my head spin.
“Raf,” I gasp, heart racing as I lie before him, naked and exposed, and entirely at his mercy.
“You’re mine tonight,dolce,” he rasps, his voice echoing in my memory once more. “And I’m going to show you all about pleasure… and pain.”
My pulse skyrockets as he shoves his pants and boxer briefs down all in one go, then he leans down over me, his hips spreading my thighs as his weight settles on top of me, arm muscles rippling as he dips low.
He nips at my lips, then ears, then throat, his fingers raking down my body with almost bruising force.
And igniting a fire in his wake.
I arch into his palm as he kneads my breast, then bite back a cry of pleasure as he gives my tender nipples a sharp twist.
A moment later, his fingers are stroking between my thighs, parting my slick folds and circling my clit until pleasure washes away the pain.
“Are you ready, Aisling?” he murmurs, his voice soaked with dark warning and promises of sinful release.