Page 21 of Falling for Paris
“Prickles? What is this word?” He was equal parts annoyed and intrigued by the statement.
“It means, like, ugh. I don’t know?! Like there’s a current between us and it makes my stomach ache and my hair stand and my body…my body…dammit I—” She stopped herself.
“What do you want? Tell me straight. None of these vague words. I must hear you clearly. Youmustbe clear.” He couldn’t afford the language barrier to get in the way of their understanding.
“When you talk to me a certain way, when you touch me and hold me a certain way, it feels like you’re giving me something I didn’t know I needed. Something I didn’t realize I craved.”
“When I tell you how beautiful you are?”
“No. I mean yes, but also when you…when you tell me you want your cock in my mouth. When you talk dirty.”
“Fuck, my angel likes the devil in her ear,” he said in a half whisper, indulging in a nuzzle of his nose against her fragrant skin.
“And when you hold me a certain way.”
“Like this?” he asked, shackling her hand behind her with one grip while slowly grazing his other hand along her outer hip before clenching his fist rough and hard. Her sigh was relief and excitement together.
“Have you ever played this game, my angel? Have you ever submitted?”
“I’ve seen it. I’ve been to a sex club. To…to watch.”
He groaned at the thought of this woman hot and bothered and aroused as she watched the ebb and flow of domination and submission play out between two people.
“How about you? Are you, um, experienced?”
He paused because this was not a topic one spoke about frequently. How to explain what he had learned about himself through the years? Rafael admitted that certain situations between him and women had excited him enough to push the intensity, to bring their encounter to the brink of danger. Not with every woman, but to some extent with his ex-girlfriend.
He loved the power of it, but also the responsibility. It was a dance that required unyielding scrutiny and consensual trust.
The difference with Victoria, however, was that every time she was in his presence, the inclination towards control sharpened, his sexual need coming out in frank, unfiltered harshness. And his desire to own her and give her pleasure—that was off the charts. With her, Rafael’s demands were his gifts. And her vulnerability was his reward.
“It has never felt like this,” he said honestly. “I spend my days obsessed by all of the ways you tempt me. Then spend my nights thinking of how to punish you for it.”
“Oh, god, that’s so hot,” she gushed.
He gritted through the acuteness of desire flooding his body. “You have no idea how much I’m on fire for you. But you’ll have to say it clearly. Tell me what you want.Now.” He wasn’t sure if his loud, thumping heart was drowning out the words.
“You. I want you.”
Two burdened seconds passed before their mouths slammed together. Without restraint, the kiss tore through his consciousness. Her soft lips yielded to his firm demands. The clash was full of paradox: a violent caress and controlled chaos. Rafael grabbed the back of her neck and tugged her hair. Moans of arousal drove him crazy.
He needed to be closer, to taste deeper. Her sweet breath urged him forward. Rafael lifted Victoria to press her against a wall. That was better. He could grind their bodies without constraint, without mercy.
“When you want to stop you’ll have to say it,” Rafael uttered through the fog of lust. “Even if stopping is the last thing I want to do, I will.” He managed to pull away in order to hear her response.
She didn’t speak, but instead surged forward to entangle their tongues. The dress gaped open, releasing the creamy orbs of her full breasts. God she was beautiful. Luminous and soft and pliant—taking his hungry kisses and greedy hands as if she wanted him as much as he needed her.
He pulled back long enough to let the dress fall to her feet and then pulled her body tight again, grabbing her full bottom to angle himself deeper against her wet heat. His tongue found a delicious path down her neck, over a perfumed collarbone, and at the top of those tempting breasts. He was about to capture a puckered nipple in his hungry mouth when he felt it. Resting between her ample bottom cheeks, he grazed the fabric. Not even a thong but a fucking g-string.At the moment, the discovery was sexier than nakedness.
Rafael was undone. He pulled away from her kisses because he had to see. Their foreheads resting against each other, labored breaths mingling, Rafael looked down and groaned at the sight of a strip of black lace covering her mound held up by flimsy straps.
“You wanted to know what’s in this brain of mine, did you not?” He growled the question.
She nodded. His eyes drew downward, mesmerized by the bulk in his pants grazing the scant cloth he wanted to rip off.
“Yes. Don’t hold back. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
Gruff desperation left his lips as he pulled the g-string and let it slap sharply between her cheeks. “I’m thinking of you putting this on tonight before I came upstairs. How it slid up your legs and nestled against your sweet pussy. Do you think that was very nice, Tori? To have your wet cunt rub against it when it should be my face between these thighs? Answer me.”
