Page 62 of Forbidden Deception

“You lit a fire in Remo Cainn’s warehouse?”

“Yes.”

“Were you behind the revelations of the many affairs of the recently elected politicians?”

He nods, eyes set on me.

I hold my breath. My hands are shaking, so I drop them to my lap. I should tell him. I should reveal my darkest secret so he knows I have a dark streak in me.

“I killed someone Rafael.” I don’t look up, my voice quivering.

“I killed a man at my boarding school, and I don’t regret it. I lost part of my sanity after that. I thought I was gone. I thought my brother wouldn’t let me stay in his home when he found out. I thought he would look at me and be disgusted, and I didn’t know what to do.” My lower lip trembles, but I hold everything in.

“He didn’t push me when I returned home, but his wife was concerned and knew something was up. Maybe my people skills were skewed, maybe I wasn’t hiding my insanity well enough. How could I? I’d barely met my brother before, and I… Rafael, I am the last person to judge you, to hold you accountable for your actions.”

I finally look up, tears blurring my vision, but I smile and run my fingers under my eyes. My makeup better not have come off.

“I hope you decide that, maybe, we are both a broken part of the puzzle that don’t fit with anyone else but each other,” I continue.

Rafael tilts his head, then dips his chin, urging me to come closer.

I get up and walk towards him.

His hands grab my hips, and he places me sideway on his lap, his hand cupping my jaw.

“Like I said, life knew what to offer to mess with me,” he grits out, then his lips crash against mine, stealing my breath away.

My heart starts beating at an erratic pace, and my hands dive into his neatly styled hair. His lips coax mine to open, and he dips his tongue in my mouth. A moan rips from me when his tongue glides against mine. His hand runs down my back to cup my ass, pulling me further into his lap until I feel him under me. Thick. Hard. And long.

“Rafael,” I whisper, my hair creating a curtain around us.

He looks up, a tortured look in his eyes.

“No one fucking hurts what’s mine.” His words imprint themselves in my mind.

Rafael doesn’t let me go from his lap all throughout the dinner, which, surprisingly, robots bring out. Later, we sit in the living room of Crystal Noir with our wineglasses being constantly refilled.

I have made myself comfortable in Rafael’s lap, now my favourite place, with my shirt hiked up and my trousers button open. His own suit jacket is discarded and his shirt buttons are open while we kiss on the couch.

When I pull away, I run my hand down his insanely impressive muscles and six pack. His skin is hot under my wandering palms, tightening everywhere I touch while Rafael hardens under me. A hiss falls from his lips when my nails rake over his chest.

“My favourite colour is grey.” I frown. “Or maybe yellow. I can’t decide between the two.”

Rafael nods, his eyes set on my lips. “Mine is chocolate brown.” He rakes his hand through my straightened hair, watching as the strands slip through his fingers.

“My favourite flowers are sunflowers.”

“Mine, too,” Rafael answers mindlessly, running his fingers through my hair once more.

“What do you like the most?”

“You.”

I playfully slap him on the arm, and his eyes return to mine while he grins.

“Be serious, Rafael.”

Rafael skilfully turns us, so my back is on the sofa and he is above me, settling between my legs with my hands pinned above my head. His gaze hungrily runs down my body, leaving a trail of hot need.

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