Chapter 41: FORTY ONE

CELESTIA

“I—I need to tell you something first.”

Suddenly, standing in the middle of this grand room, I felt small. Or the nervousness got better of me. Either way, I was all over the place.

I peered up at the man before me, who was handsome in every sense of the word. And I was more than sure than any woman in the world would be drooling and on her knees for him. A significant part of me wanted to do that as well, give myself over to him in lieu of forbidden pleasure, but the other part was thoroughly terrified of the idea.

Adventure with Raffaele Roselli would entail dangerous things I knew that for sure. The question was, was I brave enough?

“Go on, I am listening,” he urged, surprisingly softly.

“This…I…it’s all new to me.” I sighed hopelessly. I was making an ass out of myself.

Raffaele smiled. “I hope so. And in that case, let me calm you down.”

“How could you possibly—”

He took my face between his hands, holding my head still and places his mouth over mine. The kiss was so unexpected that everything on my mind was obliterated by the feel of his tongue plundering my mouth – exploring, tasting and claiming.

One hand sliding to the back of my head while the other banding around my waist, he pulled me impossibly close to his body and pressed against him. Instinctively, my hands found its way around him too, embracing and deepening the kiss.

The uneasiness, the inhibition slipped away like sand grain between the fingers even before I realized and gave into the kiss all with my desires.

Even when we broke the kiss, lingering in a state of breathlessness, his arms remained tightened around me. Despite my efforts to wriggle out of his hold, he easily pinned me. A jolt of pleasure surged through me at the knowledge that I was trapped.

“No matter how many times I kiss you, it still wouldn’t be enough,” he spoke against my skin, nuzzling into my neck.

And I thought he was just being kind, or trying to lure me because there’s no way I could have been a good kisser.

“Of course,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes, knowing he could not see me.

But Raffaele caught the tone. His head snapped up as his searching eyes studied my features. “Did you just mock my compliment?”

I gulped but managed to tip up my chin. “It was either flattery or consolation, but definitely not a compliment.”

His face turned a bit serious as he slowly released his hold. Immediately, I felt the lack of his touch and power.

“Well, if my words aren’t going to work on you, I’d rather resort to other methods,” he clipped out.

What was that supposed to mean? Before I could voice out the question, he spun me around to face the table and had me folded over it. My breasts were flattened against the hardwood, although not painfully, and my legs spread apart.

“Ugh! Damn it!” I turned my head to the side, trying to get better of my peripheral vision. “You need to stop manhandling me like a ragdoll!”

I didn’t see that coming but heard it too late.

Thwack. His hand landed on my ass, loud and smarting, drawing the sudden squeak out of me. The shock was more unnerving than the tinge of pain.

“I tried using my words, but it didn’t go through your thick skull. Maybe, a sound spanking will.”

Again, he didn’t let me retaliate and smacked a couple of swats. Even over the fabric of the dress, it slightly burned.

“Okay, okay! I am sorry!” I squealed out.

He only relented after delivering a final blow but kept the flat of his palms directly over the asscheeks. Underneath, I was all naked. The briefs he had pulled down earlier were tangled around my ankles, and the embarrassment just washed over me.

“I am going to let you stand now, and when you do, you are going to turn back to me,” he decreed smoothly and stepped back a little.

A shiver chased up my spine as I stood and turned. Both my hands gripped the table, needing to find a balance as the blood slowed into the system.

My heart was a freight train, and my head was a cocktail of fear, lust and curiousness. I was a little afraid, too. Afraid of my desires, his hunger and getting too deep into this. I wondered what if I ended liking the dark pleasures, dominant voice and everything that Raffaele represented around me.

“Let’s get this off you,” he mumbled. And in a flash, he grabbed the hem of the dress and took it off me, rendering me almost naked but for the simplest bra I picked for the day.

The cool air of the room wafted over my naked flesh, making me more self-conscious than I already was. My hand immediately flew down, sheathing whatever little modesty I could afford at the moment. Raffaele’s mouth tightened like he was trying to reign himself in. And I recognized the expression from the time he first saw me naked under the impression that I was being recorded.

A hand rose, skating over the seam of the bra-line. My eyes dropped down to his manhood, and the way it was budged over the fabric of his slacks, it looked like he was in some kind of pain.

“Your skin is so flawless…it makes me want to decorate it with my stripes,” he mused thoughtfully like it was an easy and natural occurrence. Yet the idea seemed tantalizing…inviting.

I glared at him, trying to disguise the need. “No, thank you very much.”

His fingers closed around my elbow, firmly, and walked me back to the stool where the stranger woman was upturned some time ago. “If I know you any better, I’d say you are eager to taste what you saw a moment ago.”

The air hissed out of my lungs at his deduction. Was I really so really so easy to read?

“And I’d say that you are wrong.”

“God, you are relentless and stubborn.” And then he smiled. “But I happen to like that in a woman.”

He loosened the bra so fast that my hand flew up to cover in vain, except, it gave him a wide visual of my naked sex. Shit.

“Did you shave that for me?” he asked so crudely I didn’t know if I wanted to smack his face or turn away in shame. The truth was, I did it out of curiosity after he wishfully mused the other day.

“If you were mine, I would keep you shaved.” The words he once told me kept playing in my head, and when I decided to draw in a long bath, I took a plunge. But he didn’t need to know all of that.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Raffaele Roselli.” I narrowed my eyes, hiding the crimson embarrassment.

“Maybe, but your world sure as hell revolves around mine,” he quipped so haughtily for a second that I wondered if it was true. His dominant power all but crackled in the air.

By the time his words weighed into my head, I had found myself had bent over the stool and a firm hand pressing down my back. Next thing I know was a vicious smack on my ass. Again. The gasp was perfunctory, and when I tried to turn my head, he landed the second strike.

“You win, okay?” I yelped out. “I did it for you. Now let me up!”

Wordlessly, he aligned another spank and began to rub the inflamed skin with his palm. The caress of his large hand across the smarting flesh accentuated the bizarre sensation.

“Settle into the pain, Celestia.” His voice sounded between a command and a seduction. “It’s all new to you, and it is not too much.”

Undeniable shards of heat gathered between my legs, throbbing and aching. Liquid heat pooled between my legs, curling my toes. Every slap was followed by a vicious rubbing and kneading, dissipating the pain and awakening the arousal.

How many times was it by now? Seven? Eight? I had lost count.

Raffaele controlled every facet of me – the moans, actions and reactions and all the independence that I once possessed now lay safely tucked in his masterful hands. The rhythm of pain and pleasure was slowing settling over me, and all of a sudden, it stopped.

The roughened palm was no longer circling my skin. When my eyes fluttered open, Raffaele was gently pulling me up by the shoulders and carrying me over to the couch. Everything was so breezy I barely registered a thing and found myself curled into his lap and his silken embrace.

“Are you okay now?” he asked softly. One of his hands stroked the back of my head soothingly. “I thought I lost you for a minute there.”

I nodded and then tried to fidget on his lap that ended up with a hiss. My pleasantly sore backside felt a little raw against the fabric of his slacks, but I immediately stopped when something poked between my ass cheeks.

And Raffaele must have seen it too as he chuckled. “Relax, bambi, it won’t bite.”

Flushing, I attempted to climb off his lap.

“Whoa! Where do you think you are going?”

Dizzy and disoriented, I sucked in a sharp inhale. “Are you…done?”

A lazy grin tucked into the corner of his left cheek. “This is just the beginning.”

What do you all think of this 'beginning'?