by Callie Hart
Shirtless.
He’s covered in sweat, his hair dripping, beads of perspiration rolling over his shoulders, down his chest. His muscular, smooth, perfectly carved chest. He’s wearing shorts and running shoes, and there are headphones shoved into his ears, like I just interrupted him running. I’ve never seen a private gym here at the penthouse but I don’t doubt for a second that there is one. Raph looks angry for a second, then he sees who’s waiting for him on the other side of the door and everything about him changes. He takes a step back, his shoulders squaring off.
“Beth,” he says softly. I can’t hear my name through the door but I can see the shape of it on his lips. I reach into my back pocket and I unfold the crumpled slip of paper I’ve kept there ever since lunch. I slap it against the glass for him to see. He leans forward to read and a deep frown forms between his brows. “Why did Paxton write you out a check for a hundred thousand dollars?” he asks. His voice is much louder now; I can hear him perfectly.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
His frown deepens. “I know nothing about this, Beth. Nothing .”
“So you didn’t start seeing me in the hope that I’d become your plaything? That you could buy me? Buy my time and my body, so you could use me whenever you saw fit? ’Cause that’s what your charming friend implied when he tried to pay me off this afternoon.”
Raph’s face is forged steel and carved stone. Hard. Expressionless. “You think I’d do that?”
“Yes! I mean, why else would you be paying me so much money to come and play chess with you? Why else would you have had that damn chair made? I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid. You’re a businessman. You’re smart with money. You could have played chess with anyone online for free. Goddamnit, I’m such an idiot.”
The rage that’s been building up inside me all day bursts free, surging out of me in violent waves. I’m more than angry; I’m furious. I can’t believe I got myself caught up in this shit. I have the biggest exam of my life to study for. I should be funneling every single last scrap of energy into my research and my notes, and yet I’ve wasted precious time on a man who simply wanted to pay me off in order to bed me. I’ve prided myself on remaining focused throughout law school, and to drop the ball now, so close to the end, is heartbreaking.
I turn and walk away. I barely make it three steps before the glass door is buzzing open and Raph is grabbing me by the shoulder. He spins me around, towering over me, his face hovering over mine. “I could have just played with someone online for free, you’re right. But they wouldn’t have had your eyes,” he says, his voice penetratingly deep and filled with some unknown emotion. “They wouldn’t have had your smile. Their hair wouldn’t have been so dark it’s almost black, highlighted with hints of warm brown and red. Their cheeks wouldn’t flush every time they looked up at me from beneath their sooty, charcoal lashes.” He thumps his fist against his bare chest, pounding against his ribcage, over his heart, startling me. “And my heart wouldn’t fucking feel like it was about to explode in my chest every time I heard her damn name, Beth. So, yeah. I chose you over seven billion other people. I saw that photograph of you and I fucking knew it had to be you. I didn’t ask Paxton to try and give you that money. I would never have sanctioned that. If I thought you’d take my money, I’d fucking shower you in it. Not because I want to buy you or pay for your affections. But because I want to make sure you’re comfortable. I want to make sure you have enough money in your account to pay your bills, and for school, and your rent, so when you come to see me and you walk through those elevator doors over there, you’re carefree and light. Without a worry in the damn world. If you want to be angry with me because of that, then fine. I’m a selfish prick. I’m a fucking greedy jerk. But you know I wasn’t trying to buy your affection.”
In all of our meetings up until this point, Raph has barely strung more than three sentences together at any one time. This tirade of words and emotion is so surprising and so real that I find myself gasping for air. I can see the truth in his eyes. He lays it bare there for me to see, painfully obvious, raw and undeniable. He really didn’t want anything from me. Paxton was wrong. Paxton is a lying piece of shit.
I open my mouth, but I don’t know what to say. Paxton’s crumpled check falls from my hand to the polished marble beneath my feet, and my body, locked and tense until this very moment, falls slack.
Raph steps in so there’s no more space between us. He reaches up and carefully brushes my hair back out of my face, his eyes traveling slowly over my features. “I know how money works, okay?” he whispers. “I know how to use it to get what I want. I know both the good and the evil it can accomplish. Most importantly, I know what it can buy and what it can’t. If I simply wanted your body, I would have used the way I look. I would have used my charm to entice you into my bed. Even then, I wouldn’t have bribed you with a paycheck. But that’s not what I’m interested in. Not the only thing I’m interested in, anyway. I want your mind as well as your body, Beth. I want your fucking heart. I won’t be happy until I hear you telling me you’re in love with me, and there isn’t enough money in the world to make that happen. Not unless you really, truly feel it.”
I want to laugh. No, I want to cry. I’m paralyzed by my own sudden doubt. I was meant to come over here and tear this guy a new one. I wasn’t supposed to end up staring into his eyes, listening to him talk about me falling in love with him, handing over myself to him, body, mind and soul.
“I can’t just…” I shake my head, puffing out my cheeks. “I don’t know you. I can’t just decide to fall in love with you, Raph.”
“I’m not asking you to just decide to do it,” he says softly. “I’m asking you to be open to it. To give us a chance, to let this develop naturally. I’m asking you to not push this away just because my bank balance is fucking intimidating. I’ve fucked up in the past, Beth, I really have. I’ve been careless with money, things and people in the very worst ways. I’m not the same man I was five years ago, though. I’m better than that version of me ever could have been. I’ll show you a life, a remarkable life, and it won’t be special because of the money I’ve spent along the way. It’ll be special because of the thought and care I’ve put into it instead.”
His hands cup my face, framing me as he stares down at me. His face is divine, so perfectly constructed, his jaw square, his cheekbones pronounced and high, flushed with a little emotion of his own. His lips are pulled into a tight line, his concern clearly visible there.
“This is too much,” I whisper. “This is crazy .”
“I don’t care if it’s crazy. Roll the dice on me, Beth. See what happens. I’m a real fucking man. I know you’ve been wondering about me. Last night proved that. I can see it in your eyes right now, for fuck’s sake. You’re already looking at my body, wondering what it would feel like to have me on top of you. For me to be inside you. For my tongue to be between your legs, my hands all over your skin, my fingers teasing you everywhere…” He nudges my nose with the tip of his own—a gesture that would be playful if he weren’t looking at me so seriously. “You’re wondering what my sweat would taste like on the end of your tongue. You’re wondering what it would feel like to have my dick inside you. Let me show you.”
My old instincts kick in, and I hear Mom’s words in the back of my head again: Never trust men, Elizabeth. They’ll only hurt you . I try to lean back, but Raphael has hold of me again, his right foot planted behind my own, drawing me closer to him, our bodies meeting at shoulder, stomach, hip, and knee. “Don’t do that,” he hisses. “Don’t disappear on me. I need you here with me right now. I need you to understand this.” His cock is hard already. More than hard. It’s pressing into me, a heavy weight between my legs, pushing upward, already applying startling pressure against me. Mom’s voice vanishes, leaving my mind empty. No lingering fear. No lingering doubt. I had no idea my fear and panic could be so easily banished. I’m sure Raphael North is the only man in the world capable of makin
g that happen.
It’s so difficult to hide how much I want him right now. So, so difficult. Almost impossible. He gathers my hair into his right hand, twisting it into a knot around his fist. “I’m going to fuck you,” he mouths against my lips. “You know it, and I know it. You might as well give in now and admit the truth. I could have done it last night, but I wanted to give you some time. Where’s the sense in denying this, though? You’re depriving us both if you run from this.”
“I’m…not . I’m…” Panting. Dizzy. Turned around. Incapable of speech.
Raphael runs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, a tiny smile lifting his lips at the corners. He teases my lip down, revealing my teeth, and he groans a little. “Say it. Say the words. Tell me you want me. I won’t do anything until you say it.”
“I…can’t…” His mouth is almost on mine. So very close. His breath is warm on my face, smelling like fresh mint. He must have been chewing gum while he was working out. “I’ll make you come so hard,” he breathes. “I’ll make you scream my fucking name until your throat’s raw. I promise, Beth…I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
“I don’t…I don’t want that.” My voice is hoarse already, like I’ve already been screaming his damn name. Sex has never been a big deal for me. Don’t get me wrong; it’s been nice to have it every once in a while, but I’ve always struggled so hard to connect with a guy, always had to work so hard to trust them, that it hasn’t really been worth the effort. It seems that Raphael North has somehow lit a fuse inside me, though, a quick-burning fuse, and with every passing second I am growing more and more turned on by the idea of him touching me.
“Bullshit. Your body’s betraying you, Elizabeth,” he whispers. “Your back’s arching into me. Your tits are crushed up against my chest so hard that I can feel your nipples are tight….” He trails off, looking down the length of my body. I don’t want him to continue. I want him to keep his mouth shut so he doesn’t embarrass me any further, but I know by the wicked glint in his eye that he’s not done with me yet. He leans in and whispers in my ear. “I can tell exactly how much you want me and it’s driving me insane.”
My cheeks burst into flames. At least it feels like they do. I pull back, trying to get away, to turn from him, but he holds on fast. “You smell so fucking good,” he purrs. “I can’t wait to bury my tongue between your thighs. I can’t wait to tease your clit, to taste you, to make you swear and curse as I fuck you with my fingers.” He presses his thumb against my bottom lip again, forcing my mouth open a little. My breath hitches in the back of my throat. “I can’t wait to feel your lips wrapped around my cock. Your pretty, pretty mouth is going to be all mine. You’re going to lick and suck, and you’re going to love every inch I give to you. I already know.”
I’ve never been this turned on in my entire life. Never. I had no idea I’d be back here so soon, feeling so turned on again after last night. The feel of his thumb dipping slowly into my mouth is enough to make my eyes roll back into my head. As if obeying some unspoken command, I lick the end of his thumb, sucking in a sharp breath through my nose when he makes a low, frustrated, highly sexual sound, somewhere between a groan and a snarl. Raph bows his head, lowering his mouth to mine, and he carefully licks as I suck his thumb all the way into my mouth.
“Fuck, Beth,” he hisses. “You’re fucking dynamite. You’re more than I can bear.”
His tongue darts out and flicks at my lip, and I instantly lose myself. I can’t handle the intensity between us anymore. I can’t even bear to look at him. I close my eyes and I melt into him. I don’t know when or how, but somewhere in the last ten seconds I’ve resigned myself to the fact that this man is going to get his way. It doesn’t feel like giving in, though. I’m not doing something I don’t want to. He’s right; I’m merely telling the truth—that I want him. Badly .
One second I’m standing stiffly against him, the taste of mint on my lips as he laves at me, and then the next I’m reaching for him, grabbing at him, winding my fingers into his hair, pulling him so that his mouth comes crashing down on mine.
Our first kiss, the one we shared in the VR studio, was a dizzying thing. I didn’t allow myself to sink into it, though. I railed against it, fought my desire off, determined to control the situation as best I could. Now, though, everything is different. I slowly descend into madness as I melt into this kiss. Raphael is reserved for all of three seconds. He manages to stay calm as he kisses me once, twice, and then his hands are tearing at my clothes, forcing my mouth open further, his tongue probing and exploring, his chest heaving as he groans into my mouth.
He jerks my hair, pulling my head back, leaving my neck exposed, and then his tongue and his teeth are raking across my skin, his incisors digging into my flesh hard enough to leave marks. I cry out, my heart thundering in my chest. I need his body on mine. I need more of him, more than he’s already given me. I whimper, a sound I’ve never in my life made before, and Raph laughs, just once, a rough edged, lust-filled bark of laughter, and then he returns to my neck.
Next to Raphael, I feel small and vulnerable yet safe and protected all once. I never thought a guy could make me feel anything but intimidated and scared. This man is capable of destroying and saving me in the very same breath, though. He’s capable of building me up and at the same time crushing me with his strong hands.
I wore a button down shirt and pants to the library for work this morning, so I’m hardly wearing the sexiest clothes in my wardrobe. Far from it. I look very conservative, but when Raphael rips open my shirt, exposing my black lace bra and an expanse of cleavage, I feel like I’m wearing the most provocative outfit imaginable.
He snarls as he buries his face in my skin, his hands working my breasts through the lace, finding my nipples immediately, pinching and rolling them until I have to suck in a sharp breath.
The pain is exquisite. The pleasure is blinding.
“Your body belongs to me,” Raphael groans. “Your beautiful face. Your perfect mouth. Your tits. Your ass. Your cunt. All of it belongs to me now.” My mother would keel over and die if she knew a man was speaking to me like this. She’d scream blue murder and try to kill him. For some reason, hearing the word cunt on Raph’s lips turns me on so much that I have to dig my fingernails into his back just to stay upright, though.
Raph responds by sliding his hand down the front of my pants, already beneath my underwear, and dipping them between my legs.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re so fucking wet. God damn it, Beth, you’re soaking. I’m going to have to lick you clean.” The words he uses are so animalistic and suggestive that a shiver runs from the top of my head down to my toes. My skin breaks out in goose bumps. If Raphael notices the extreme effect he has on me, then he doesn’t let me know. He unfastens my pants, ripping them down over my hips.
“You’re about to forget which way is up,” he informs me. I’m denied the chance to fire back a retort when he pulls my panties to the side and begins rubbing my clit in small, tight circles with his index finger. He doesn’t waste five minutes trying to find the damn thing. He knows exactly where it is and gets to work. My head rocks back, my entire body shaking with pleasure. Raph uses his other hand to pull down the lace material of my bra, exposing first my left breast and then my right. He takes my nipple into his mouth, biting lightly, clamping down with his teeth, and I shudder.
“You like that? You like walking the line between pleasure and pain?” Raphael asks.
“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, thou
gh. 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!”