Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Except that's exactly what I want to do. Tempt him. Rattle him. Break him. I want him desperate. Maybe I shouldn't like playing with fire, but I love the way this man burns.
"Then do it, Rafe," I say, commanding him this time. Ordering him. "Fuck me. Break me. Claim me."
I don't think either of us will be satisfied until he does. I need his stamp of ownership on me just as badly as he needs it. I need this part of me to belong to him and no other.
He growls my name, his hands flexing on my ass. His fingers dig into my cheeks and then relax. Dig in and then relax.
I lean forward slowly, my eyes locked on his. I hold his gaze until the last possible second and then bite his lip. Hard.
He roars in pleasure.
I land on my stomach on the bed, crying out his name. Within seconds he's on top of me, my skirt around my waist.
His hand comes down on my right cheek in a hard smack. The sharp sting sends a blast of pleasure through me.
"Tigrotta," he growls.
"Did you just spank me?"
He smacks my left cheek in response.
I bite my tongue, battling back a cry of ecstasy. Pissed that I love it, and thrilled that I do all at once.
"Don't pretend you don't fucking love it," he growls in my ear, nipping at the lobe. "I can smell how wet you are for me right now, Amalia."
"¡Vete al demonio!"
He laughs, the dark sound grating against my womb. "Nah, tesoro. I've been there. Tonight, I'm riding your curvy little body straight to heaven." His hand comes down on my ass again. "Don't worry though. You're going to love every minute of the ride."
I'm pretty sure he's right. Already, my body feels like it’s on fire. My clit pulses. My nipples ache. I'm desperate for him to spank me again and outraged at the thought at the same time.
What is he doing to me?
He thrusts one hand between my legs, cupping my center through my panties. I moan in ecstasy, sobbing like the desperate, needy girl he's turning me into.
"Ride my hand, Amalia. Pump your hips and give me a show while I teach you how much you like to obey orders."
"Rotto nel culo," I curse, fighting him even as I do exactly as he demands and grind against his hand. I can't help it. Part of me loves fighting him. The other part desperately wants to please him. I'm addicted to this man and the way he makes me feel. In his arms, I'm alive in a way I've never been. I'm more myself than I've ever been. I'm supposed to be his prisoner, yet I feel free for the first time in my life.
He delivers a sharp spank to my right cheek and then soothes it with his palm. I cry out, bucking against his hand, chasing the pleasure.
"That's it, tesoro," he croons. "Use me as your own personal fuck toy. Make a mess for me to clean up."
Oh, God.
He smacks my left cheek.
My inner muscles clench.
He yanks the back of my panties down without warning, exposing my ass.
"Goddamn," he breathes. "You look good with my handprints painted across your skin, tesoro. I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now."
The reverence in his voice sends me over the edge. I cry out his name and crash headlong into an orgasm. My nipples drag across the bed as I writhe and moan. And then I feel his lips on my ass where his handprints are…and get dragged under a brand-new wave.
I fall limp beneath it, letting it toss me about like a ragdoll.
Rafe rolls me over, brushing tendrils of hair gently out of my face.
"Bellissima," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss me gently. His tongue twines around mine, his kiss slow and sensual, erotic. It's like he's making love to my mouth. He runs his hands up and down my sides in languid strokes. Instead of bringing me back down to earth, he lifts me higher, leaving me floating five feet off the ground.
"Rafe," I moan, shifting restlessly beneath him. Unsure what I need. I just know I need more. "Please."
"You sound so sweet when you beg, tesoro," he murmurs against my lips. "Do you want to come again?"
"Please."
He breaks our kiss, gently sitting me up. Somehow, he manages to undress me with no help from me. I'm boneless, useless. He doesn't seem to mind. He croons praises in my ear, runs his hands across my body, constantly lifting me higher, higher, until I feel drugged with pleasure, drugged by him. Fighting him doesn't even cross my mind. I don't want to fight him.
He hasn't even gotten inside of me, and he's already stripped me of my defenses and ruined me. I'm in serious trouble here. I think he knows it too. I think he loves it. The cocky bastard loves every minute of this.