Page 63 of Deal with the Devil
I scream at myself again and again inside my head. Yet my mouth and body have taken over, disobeying every thought trapped inside the foggy mess that’s my mind.
“I’ll be your good girl,” I pant. “I… I promise!”
He’s slid two fingers inside me, slowly pumping them in and out.
“Are you sure?” he asks throatily. “Is that what you really want?”
“Yes!YES!”
The belt falls to the ground with a clang. His hand, large and warm, settles on my supple burning skin. "Is that so?"
He pulls me up to straddle his lap and I find myself yearning for more of his touch. I should pull away, should scream, should fight… but instead I find myself nodding as I draw air into my lungs.
“Tell me you want me, dolcezza.” His fingers slip back between my thighs, finding my slick, throbbing pussy. “Tell me why you're wet for me.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Iamwet—I'm soaked, and we both know it. His fingers brush my clit, so taunting and teasing that I can't stop the moan I release.
“I… I… Rafael?—”
“Diavolo,” he corrects. His erection presses against my thigh, proof that this is affecting him just as much.
“Please,” I whisper, no longer sure what I'm begging for.
“Please what?" He rubs my clit in a circular motion, and I arch against him with a cry. "Tell me what you want.”
“I don't… oh god…” I'm coming apart in his hands, my defiance crumbling with each skillful movement of his fingers. “You… I want… you…”
His dark eyes have gone wild, all control abandoned as he cups my face in his hands.
“You're going to be the death of me,” he growls before his mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss is fierce and desperate, full of weeks of suppressed tension and forbidden desire. I kiss him back with equal fervor, my hands tangling in his dark hair as he lifts me easily and carries me to the massive bed that dominates the center of the room.
His hands work fast undressing me, pulling at the dress I’m wearing until I’m stripped bare. His mouth follows the path of his fingers as he kisses every inch of exposed brown skin. He’sfinally taken off the mask, his features twisted in a way that almost makes him look different than Rafael.
When I reach for his shirt, he pulls back and quickly disposes of it himself. His pants are next to go before we're skin to skin, hearts racing in tandem.
“You're so fucking beautiful,” he growls against my throat. The words are so earnest it’s almost like Rafael’s speaking through him. He presses kisses along the delicate column, his hands caressing every part of me.
It’s as if he’s decided to abandon any act he’s put on. He can no longer control himself, and for this moment alone, he’s letting himself indulge.
His mouth returns to mine in another hot kiss. Our tongues meet, both breathless and overcome with need.
He positions himself between my thighs, his big dick pressing against my entrance. When he finally pushes inside me, it’s with a slow, teasing thrust that sets off the nerve endings in my pussy.
I cry out at the stretch, my back arching off the bed. He's as big as I remember, yet after so long untouched, it’s instantly overwhelming.
“Fuck, dolcezza,” he groans against my neck, his muscles tensing. “You feel so damn good.”
He starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in with a force that makes the headboard slam against the wall. Each thrust is deeper than the last, hitting spots inside me that make stars explode behind my eyelids. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more of him.
…of Rafael.
Diavolo.
“Harder,” I gasp, my pussy rippling around him. “Please, Rafael, I need?—”
He doesn't let me finish. His hands grip my hips with bruising force. He pounds into me with raw, desperate passion, his thrusts coming fast and deep.
