by Ewing, A. B.
“Raphael…” Her plea was hot against his lips, her tongue dancing across them, causing chaos within his soul.
“Yes, Dahlia?”
“Please..? She begged rubbing her body against his hardened one. His control was slowly slipping, but he needed to hold on for a little while longer.
“Please what, mi amor?” He urged her on. He needed to hear her say it, to know it was real. He wanted no regrets.
“Please make love to me. I need you so much.” She cried.
“Ah…mi tesoro, I need you too. Let me show you how much.” He grounded out pulling her on to his lap, the evidence of his desire ready to her touch.
****
Dahlia savored the feel of him. She missed him so much. The last couple of days had been engulfed in grief. It felt so good to be here with Raphael now. His kisses warmed her and she gloried in the pleasure it brought her. She could feel his arousal pressing against her bottom and shifted slightly, forcing a deep masculine growl from him. He stood up abruptly, his arms supporting her weight; her hand encircling his neck and strode through the door that led to the bedroom. Ripples of pleasures slivered down her spine when she thought of the minutes up ahead. Tonight she would become a woman. This was like every fantasy she had as a little girl, every romance novel coming to life.
Raphael stopped short of the bed, lowering her to her feet. He didn’t kiss her, for a moment he just stared, the shadowy gray of his passion-filled eyes caressing her face. Placing both of his hands on her hips he turned her, pulling her against his length. His arousal pressed against the small of her back as he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent. One hand encircled her waist imprisoning her against his hardness. The other came up to her neck to move aside the hair that rested on her shoulder. The back of his finger glided ever so gently from the tender spot below her ear to the base of her neck. Her eyes drifted close at the hidden desire he aroused with that single touch. His lips replaced his fingers, feathering hot kisses along the same part, her legs weakened beneath her. She buckled under his caress and his hand around her waist tightened.
“Raphael…?”
“¿Si, Querida?”
“Please…” She sounded unreal even to her own ear.
“Soon, mi amor, soon you will have what you desire.” He promised, his husky voice scorching her frail senses.
His free hand came up to graze the tip of her breast through the thin fabric of the button down blouse and she pressed against him, her desire mounting further. Releasing her waist, he brought his other hand up to gently cup both of the hardened mounds, his tongue flickering across her earlobe. His teeth gently nipped the soft skin there, his hand squeezing lightly. Her body trembled against his, a hoarse cry escaping her lips—signaling her need for more.
His hands went back to her hip gently pushing her forward. He stayed with her, guiding her around the side of the king-size bed. Still standing behind her, he took his time in undoing the tiny buttons of her blouse, his hand brushing against her skin with every movement, every touch—wreaking havoc. Moving away gently, he tugged at the fabric slipping the flimsy scrap of silk down her arms and off her shoulder, discarding it nearby. Holding her still, he circled around her, his face hovering closely above hers.
For the first time, she saw how hard he was fighting to control his desire, lips pulled tight. She kissed the pulse at the base of his neck which tattooed with every breath he took, and his hands squeezed her waist. His need was as great as hers. Lowering himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed he drew her between his open thighs, her breast dangerously close to his mouth. Leaning forward his mouth skimmed a spot just above the waist of her skirt, causing her eyes to flutter shut. She held on to his broad shoulder, not knowing how much more of this she could endure. His tongue began a gentle assault on her skin, blazing hot kisses across the flat planes of her stomach. She had no idea how it happened but her skirt brushed down her legs, pooling around her ankles. Not wanting to disturb the maddening pleasure she felt, she quickly stepped out of the material, kicking it aside, cautious not to interrupt his touch.
Moving away from her a little, he hastily removed his shirt, pulling her back into his embrace. He nudged her forward a little, pulling her down on top of him, until she was straddling him. “Ah, Corazón, you are even more beautiful than I imagined. I wish to remember you like this forever.”
His mouth reclaimed hers; his hand continuing their exploration. Her body no longer belonged to her. Everywhere he touched was on fire, causing her to writhe against him but there was still something missing. Something she knew only Raphael could give to her.
Raphael fought like a man hanging on for dear life. She was driving him crazy. His need for her was beyond what he had ever experienced, but he wanted tonight to be about Dahlia. He wanted her to know only him, to remember only him. Her other lovers would be forgotten and it would be his name she called out tonight and every night after this.
Her breasts were soft and warm against his chest through the fabric of her bra, her legs wrapped around him. Reaching a hand behind her back he unclasped her bra, freeing her. He could hear her soft cries of pleasure as his lips and hands played her body like a fine tuned instrument, every touch, and every stroke— releasing a new harmony. When his mouth finally claimed one of her darkened peaks, her head fell back, a cry of raw pleasure tore from her throat and Raphael knew he would not last. He needed her now; needed to sheath himself inside her warmth or surely he would go mad.
Reversing their positions, he laid her on the wide bed, coming down with her legs still wrapped around him. Detangling himself from her, he swiftly removed their remaining clothes, his eyes worshipping the perfect contours of her body. She whimpered when he returned to her waiting arms. His aching desire to possess her was a delightful, strange feeling. Nudging her thighs apart with a knee he nestled against her feminine heat.
“¡Eres mía!” He breathed into her ear before he claimed her.
****
Hours after, Rafe supported himself on one hand, admiring Dahlia as she slept. She lay on her stomach, both hands tucked under her pillow, her breathing shallow. He bent to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. She muttered something inaudible and stirred little. After making love the first time, they had rested for a short while, but their need for each other was urgent and their coming together the second time was heated, leaving them both hovering on the edge of insanity. They were meant for each other. She was his Bonnie and he her Clyde.
Moving from the bed, he pulled on his trousers, stopping to observe her for a brief second. Her unique beauty was beyond description, her mass of curls fanned out partly across her exposed back. He closed his eyes, memories of his face buried in her hair as they rode the waves of pleasure that consumed them both, threatening to take him back to her, to wake her with hot kisses.
A sudden image of Sarafina flashed across his thoughts, causing a knot to form at the back of his neck. He tried desperately to rub it away but it persisted. Out on the balcony, he stared up at the darkened sky, stars scattered across the dark blanket. He hadn’t meant for it to happen this way. He wanted to tell Dahlia about Sarafina, explain his plans before making love to her. But when she had shown up at his door and kissed him the way she did, he lost all control. Losing control was not something Raphael Cavos did, but he could not remember needing any woman the way he needed her. And now, even after loving her thoroughly, he still wanted her. He had been pleasantly surprised when he took her the first time realizing she was untouched. No man knew the secrets of her body—except him. That knowledge filled him with a sense of masculine pride and a need to possess her completely. He wouldn’t allow any other man to touch what was his.
His thoughts drifted back to Sarafina. He hated the idea that he would have to leave Dahlia, but it would only be for a couple of days. He would fly home, speak to Sarafina and his parents, call off the wedding and then come back. He would then be a free man able to pursue a relation
ship with this beauty. A smile stole across his chiseled face at the realization. Yes, he wanted a relationship with Dahlia. But first it was most important that he tell her about Sarafina and his impending marriage. There must be no secrets between them.
With a plan in place, he headed off to the shower. He didn’t trust himself to go back to bed just yet. He would be too tempted to make love to Dahlia again and she needed her rest. He would take a shower and wait for her to wake up. Then they would talk.
****
A bee was buzzing somewhere next to her ear. Dahlia slapped at it. It stopped. Forcing her eyes open she assessed her surroundings. She beamed at the knowledge that she was in Raphael’s bed. They had made love twice and both times were spectacular. She had no idea that it would be this good. It was nothing like her colleagues or friends back in Boston had described it. Making love to Raphael was pure magic. He was a gentle lover, pleasing her with his hands and mouth. When he had first taken her, she knew he realized she was a virgin. He stilled above her but she urged him on, moving beneath him. It was all the encouragement he needed. Raphael wasn’t in bed with her, but she could hear the shower running. A naughty smile crossed her face when she imagined him standing naked under the water and she felt her body stir again. How could it be possible to be aroused so quickly and so soon after making love? She was baffled.
Buzz. The damn bee was back again. Scanning the room, she spotted the edge of a phone protruding from behind the lamp on the night stand. It continued to vibrate and Dahlia hesitated a little before reaching for it. The name on the display caught her attention, causing a sudden dread to engulf her. Pressing the answer button, she placed it to her ear.
“Rafe! Darling, where have you been? I have been trying to call you for hours.” A sultry, feminine voice drawled on the other end.
“Hello…?” Dahlia reluctantly answered.
“Hello, who is this? What are you doing answering my fiancé’s phone at this time of night?”
Dahlia tossed the phone at the foot of the bed as if it burned her flesh. Raphael was engaged? This couldn’t be happening. She looked around the room confused, for a moment, forgetting where she was. The phone begun to vibrate again, jolting Dahlia out of her daze. Reaching for it again, she stared at the name on the display. Sarafina. It was her again; Raphael’s fiancé. It wasn’t a wrong number. Oh God… Oh God! He really was engaged.
She scampered off the bed, desperately searching for her discarded clothes; scorching tears blinding her vision. She promised herself she wasn’t going to do this. She was an adult, capable of having an affair without a commitment. Then why did her heart feel as if someone was literally ripping it out of her chest? A broken sob escaped her throat as she struggled to get into her clothes. She was lying to herself. No matter what she tried to make herself believe, her heart knew she was in love with him. How could she have been so stupid to fall in love with a man she knew nothing about? The room suddenly felt claustrophobic despite its large expanse. She couldn’t stay here, she needed to leave!
She didn’t hear the water stop, nor did she see Raphael emerge from the bathroom. Standing in the doorway a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his confused voice startled her.
“Where are you going, Querida?”
“Home!”
“¿Por qué? I do not understand. Why are you leaving? Is it your sister? Will she be angry because you spent the night with me?” He asked confused at her sudden change of attitude.
Partially dressed, she challenged him, hurt concealed behind her mask of anger. “Answer me one question, Raphael. Are you engaged?” She accused. His expression said it all. His mouth opened but nothing came out. “That’s what I thought.” She stated flatly. Gathering the rest of her things, she made for the door.
“Amor, wait! Let me explain…” He implored, but she’d heard enough. He was engaged. This beautiful man that had stolen her heart and just a few hours ago taken her virginity, belonged to another woman. That was all she needed to know.
“There is nothing to explain, Raphael! You had sex with me even though you are engaged. You must think I am such a fool!” Her efforts not to cry failing. The tears that had been threatening to escape earlier spilling over with a hot fury.
“Dahlia, no, it is not what you think. You must let me explain, Corazón. Sarafina is my fiancé, but…” He pleaded. He came to her—hands outstretched in an effort to subdue her.
“Don’t touch me.” She spat at him, shrinking away from his touch. “What are you going to tell your fiancé? Let me guess—it was a mistake, it meant nothing, and it’s you I really love.” She mocked, bitterness laced her voice. She wanted to hurt him as much as she was hurting. She wanted him to feel just half of what she was feeling right now.
“Did you enjoy yourself, Raphael, seducing the innocent virgin? I wonder how many were there before me.” Her eyes felt heavy, her head ached so badly. She felt the bile rise in her stomach and she fought to repress it. She would not give him the pleasure of seeing her faint again. Placing her hand to her aching head she cried, “I can’t believe I was so stupid! A handsome man shows me a little interest and like a love sick puppy I fall into bed with him. How stupid can I be?” She questioned herself.
“Dahlia, do not do this. You do not understand. It is not what you think…”
“No, Raphael, it is exactly as I think. You are getting married, so you take one last vacation as a Bachelor. I wonder how many wild oats you sowed before me.” She laughed hysterically.
“None of it is true. I did not come here looking for a last fling. What happened between us was meant to be. Just allow me a chance to explain, please?” He sounded so genuine that Dahlia was actually tempted to listen. And she would have, save for one thing. He had already admitted that he was engaged. Nothing was going to change that. No explanation was going to make that disappear.
Her strength completely gone and unable to fight any longer, she stopped him with a hand in the air. “Please, Raphael. Please, don’t cheapen this situation with anymore of your lies. You’ve had your fun, now it’s over. I hope I never see you again.” She choked out. Not waiting for a reply she rushed out the door, the sound of Raphael calling out to her lost in the cold dark night.
****
Chapter 5
Nothing was happening the way he planned. First, Dahlia had stormed out of his life in a gust of hurt and anger, then Sarafina had thrown a terrible tantrum at the news of him breaking off the engagement, and now he had the daunting task of having to face his mother to inform her that there would be no grandchildren in the near future. What had he done in his past life to be punished so badly? Sarafina had behaved every bit like the spoiled bitch that she was. Rafe visibly shuddered at the memory of her reaction to his news.
“You cannot do this to me, Rafe. My father will not allow you to do this.”
“Sarafina, your father has nothing to do with any of this. You do not love me and I do not love you. This is best for both of us.”
“No, this is not best for me! Daddy is going to hand over his share of the company to William. I will have nothing. Who is going to take care of me?” She cried sounding almost pitiful.
“Sarafina, you are a beautiful woman. I am quite sure you will find someone to ‘take care of you.’” Rafe insinuated.
She turned nasty after that. “I do not need you, Raphael Cavos. That is why I have taken a lover. Now, I will not have to worry about spoiling my beautiful body with your brats. Max doesn’t want children. He will take care of me.” She spun on her heels disappearing through the wide screen kitchen door, leaving Rafe to wonder how in God’s name he had ever considered marrying her. He found himself comparing her to Dahlia. The two were exact opposites.
Sweet Dahlia, his island princess. She had come into his life so quickly bringing with her a happiness he didn’t know it was possible to feel. Every attempt to speak with her had been blocked by her sister. She wouldn’t even take his calls. Her parting words cut through
his senses, stabbing at his heart.
“Please, Raphael. Please, don’t cheapen this situation with anymore of your lies. You’ve had your fun, now it’s over. I hope I never see you again.”
Until that moment, he did not believe that words had the power to hurt so much. He barely had any sleep these past five days. His thoughts were constantly consumed with Dahlia. When he did manage to drift off, his dreams were haunted with visions of her. He would wake up, his body aching for her, his senses straining for any familiar memory of her; the scent of her hair, the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice. Could this possibly be love that he felt? And if it was, why did it hurt so much?
****
“Rafe, it is good to have you home, my son.” Lauralyn greeted her only child with a kiss.
“It is good to be home, Mamá.” Rafe responded, rejoicing in his mother’s embrace. “Where is Papá? I need to speak with you both.”
“What is it, Rafe?” Her worried glance scanned his face.
“It is nothing to worry about, Mamá, but I would like to speak to you together.” He assured her.
A little less worried, his mother directed him to the study, falling into step behind him. “He is in his office—like most times. Tú sabes cómo es.”
“Hijo, you are home.” His father never the one for much affection, offered a hand. Rafe accepted the firm grip with an uncomfortable smile.
“Yes, Papá, I am home, but I cannot stay for long. I have to go back to the office.”
Lauralyn stood at her husband’s side curious as to what could be so important, that Rafe would want to speak to them both. She wondered if Sarafina was pregnant. The possibility of a grandchild excited her. She had wanted a little piece of Rafe for a very long time now.