Page 61 of Lord of Obsession

Perfect.

A phone buzzes somewhere—his or mine, it doesn't matter. We ignore it as his mouth traces fire down my throat. Let our families search. Let the whole fucking city burn while we claim territory already marked in blood and bullets.

"They'll find us." He breathes the words against my skin between kisses. "Both our families, the Ferraras, everyone who wants us dead."

I slide my fingers into his hair, grip tightening as his teeth find my pulse. "Let them come."

His laugh carries edges sharp enough to cut. "You're insane."

"Says the man who shot his way through his uncle's soldiers to protect me." I drag him up for another kiss, tasting copper and triumph. "Face it, baby. We're both fucking crazy."

This time when he kisses me, it carries no hesitation. No careful control or measured distance. Just raw need and acceptance of what burns between us. His hands brandownership across my skin as mine mark him in return.

Some truths can only be written in blood and bruises. Some chains bind tighter than family loyalty ever could.

Night pressesagainst reinforced windows as security lights cast shadows across the safe house bedroom. The pain meds have worn off, but I ignore the fire in my chest, too caught up in watching Rafael move through his security checks. His suit jacket is gone, shirt sleeves rolled up, that perfect facade finally cracking after today's chaos.

"Stop staring." He doesn't turn from the monitors, but tension rides his shoulders. "Get some rest."

"Come here instead." My voice is laced with need and medication.

He hesitates, that ingrained control warring with baser instincts. But when I reach for him, he lets himself be pulled onto the bed. His body runs hot against mine, exhaustion and adrenaline making him pliant in ways he rarely allows.

"You should sleep." But his hands find my face, betraying how much he needs this contact. "The escape took a lot out of you."

"Need you more." I slide my fingers into his hair, feeling how he melts into the touch. No more masks. No more careful distance. Just raw honesty as his forehead presses against mine.

The kiss starts gentle, too gentle for what burns between us. I catch his lower lip between my teeth, drawing blood to remind him what we are. His response is immediate and fierce, hands tightening in my hair as he deepens the contact.

"Careful." But there's no real warning in my voice as he presses closer. "Don't want to tear the stitches again."

His laugh vibrates against my throat. "Then stop moving." His fingers trace paths between bandages, finding skin that burns for his touch. "Let me take care of you."

The words should feel wrong. Should feel like weakness. Instead, they send electricity down my spine as he maps my body with deliberate care. His mouth follows the path of his hands, marking territory already claimed a dozendifferent ways.

"Rafael." His name comes out like a plea or a curse as he works his way lower.

He pauses, lifting his head to meet my gaze. The hunger there matches my own, but carries something deeper now. Something that tastes of belonging rather than possession.

His lips trail down my neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands roam my body, exploring, dominating. When he reaches the waistband of my boxers, his fingers trace the line, teasing me. I squirm under his touch, my breath hitching in anticipation.

"Fuck," I gasp as he pulls my boxers down, his mouth finding my already hard length. His tongue swirls around the tip, his hand working in tandem with his mouth as he cups my balls and squeezes gently. I groan, my hands twisting in the sheets as he takes me deeper, his mouth warm and wet around my dick.

He pulls away, his eyes meeting mine, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He flips me over, his hands gripping my ass cheeks, spreading them apart. His tongue traces a line down my crack, finding my hole. I moan, my body tensing as he runs histongue around my hole, darting it in, teasing me.

“Please," I beg, my body aching for him. He chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers down my spine. He pulls away briefly, and I can see his hands reaching for the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube. He coats his fingers, his eyes never leaving mine as he prepares me for him.

His fingers probe my hole, stretching me, preparing me for his hard length. I moan, my body arching into his touch. He adds another finger, scissoring them, stretching me even more for his invasion. I groan, my body aching for him, needing him inside me for the first time.

He pulls his fingers away, replacing them with his hard cock. He pushes inside me, his cock stretching and filling me. I gasp as my body adjusts to his size. He pulls out slowly, then thrusts back in, setting a rhythm that turns my breath ragged as I fight for air.

I moan, and my body aches for release. He reaches around, his hand finding my hard length, stroking me in time with his thrusts.

"Fuck," I gasp, my body tensing as my orgasm approaches. He is deep inside me, hishand working my cock, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I moan again, my body tensing as my orgasm washes over me, my cum coating his hand.

He grunts, and his thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release. He thrusts even deeper inside me, his cock pulsing as he comes, filling me with his cum. He collapses onto the bed, his body covering mine, his breath hot against my neck.

"Fuck," he murmurs, his voice husky.

---