Page 35 of Mr. North
“Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.”
He thrusts a finger inside me as he sucks at my breast, and I can’t hold back the cry that rips free from my throat.
“I’ll push you over that line,” he whispers. “I’ll carry you over it. I’ll hold you tight and keep you safe as you come over and over again. Do you want that?”
I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. Five minutes ago, I wanted to fucking kill him. A lot has changed since I came storming up here in the elevator, though. Raphael laid himself out for me to see. No secrets. No games. No mystery or intrigue. Just plain honesty. He wants me, and he knows I want him. Any other guy wouldn’t have put himself out there like that. They wouldn’t have risked the chance of rejection that comes hand in hand with being honest about what you want. His confession was unashamed and unafraid, and it made my heart swell to three times its normal size.
Raphael drops down to his knees and grabs hold of my left ankle. He rips my pump from my foot and launches it down the length of the anteroom, snarling like a savage. “No ,” he says simply. He rips the pump from my other foot and hurls that one too. “Bad girl. You broke my rules. We’ll talk about that later. Go and place your hands against the glass, Beth,” Raph tells me. The timbre of his voice resonates somewhere deep inside me. Somewhere that answers only to instinct and drive, not to common sense. He kisses me as he walks me backwards, his mouth hot and insistent, his hands furiously exploring my body. I shift back, responding to his movement. The anteroom, marble and glass and not much else, now feels like it’s filled from top to bottom with water and I’m struggling to move back through the suffocating liquid in order to obey this man’s command.
Cold.
Cold on my flesh.
My body must have made contact with the glass because a shock of cold hits my back and my ass. My butt must be pressed up against the floor to ceiling window. The shock of the unexpected sensation has me gasping for breath. Quickly, Raph spins me around, and then his hand is sliding down…
…over my stomach…
…between my legs…
…inside me…
“Fuck! Beth, you feel so good good around my fingers. Your pussy is so damn tight. So wet. Tell me… Tell me right now that you want me inside you.”
Raph’s words are almost lost in the haze that’s fogging my brain. I barely know how to make myself heard anymore. I don’t know how to make myself clear. I manage to nod, though. I manage to say the words he’s asking of me. “Yes! God, yes, I want you inside me!”
I haven’t even finished speaking before he’s ripping my pants fully from my body. Tearing the open shirt from me. Yanking down my panties and lifting each of my legs in order to hurl them across the anteroom. I slap my palms against the glass as he pushes himself inside me. I’ve never felt this before—so full, so turned on, so swept away and complete. Raphael North, the most beautiful man in New York City, the most elusive man to ever grace the cover of a magazine, is inside me. Not just inside me. He’s claiming me, owning me, demanding everything of me with each and every single thrust of his cock.
I’m lost. I’m lost to myself, and to him. There’s only pleasure… and it feels like it’s pouring into me, taking me over, showing me heights of madness I never knew existed.
My breasts crush up against the glass, and the beat and thrum of a helicopter sounds way off in the distance, the throb and thrum of its blades barely audible. I hear nothing but the pull and push of Raphael’s breathing. I feel nothing but his dizzying touch.
“Are you ready to come for me now, Beth?” he rasps into my ear. “Are you ready to give me what I’ve been waiting for ever since I saw that photo?”
“Shit. Yes, fuck, I’m going to come!” With every deep thrust of his cock inside me, I can feel it mounting: that terrifying fall. Le petit mort. The little death. Except this orgasm won’t be comparable to a little death. It’ll be a monstrous death. It’s going to be skydiving and my chute not opening. It’s going to be deep sea diving and my tank running out of oxygen.
It’s going to be…
It’s going to be…
It’s going to…
It’s…
“Oh my god! Raph! Raph! Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming!”
His arm closes around my chest, pulling me back to him, holding me against his body as he holds me while I come. “I know. I know. I feel it,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy tightening around my dick, baby. Come for me hard now. Fucking come all over me.”
So I do.
