Chapter 43: FORTY THREE

CELESTIA

There were only a few times I saw the lines between right and wrong blur before me.

The first time when Raffaele had kissed me and made me want to last it forever, I let my own heart betray my senses and embraced the feelings I should not have allowed.

The second time when he made me question if he was really the villain of fate, I was trying to justify him over my own blood – my mother and I did it with all the conscious element of my brain.

And the third was today when I willingly gave him something precious even before he asked for it. And when the thread of pain and pleasure bounded him to me, all I did was welcoming it with open arms.

Raffaele’s entire frame encased mine while he pushed into me in slowest, gentlest of motions while my body fought to adjust the overwhelming sensations of invading pain and erotic pleasure. It took all my strength just to stay conscious through this powerful onslaught.

I could faintly hear he was asking me something, but all I could do was breathe his name, breathe his scent – apple and spice. He was slowly becoming the poignant centerpiece of my life, whether I wanted or not.

“Ride the pain, Celestia,” he rasped again in a voice mixed with sand and gravel.

I barely took in the words as I felt him pace up the rhythm. He was so large inside of me that at first, despite the slick wetness, the stretch felt a little uncomfortable.

“Raf – Raffaele…please,” I begged, I moaned, I screamed…unable to come to terms with the restless sensations.

“I can feel every time you pussy squeezing down my cock, Celestia,” he panted in between the push and pull.

My fingernails dug into his back, pulling him tighter while his lips trailed down kisses around my collarbone. Oh, God. A coiling pressure began to build in my core and clenched around the womb-like a fist. As a result, I had to clench my teeth and clamp down my voice when all I wanted to howl in ecstasy.

“Look at me, Celestia,” he ordered; his voice thick with domination, and immediately my eyes sought his steel grey orbs. “I am going harder and faster now, and you are going to come like this.”

Unable to form a coherent reply, my eyes gaped before I could negotiate. His hurried pace tightened the knots further, driving me to the edge as I exploded with blinding intensity.

I felt him – everywhere. Over every inch of my skin. The dampness of his mouth against mine, the pulse of his length into the core, and the thudding heartbeat in my ears.

“Fuck!” Raffaele rode up the speed, hammering and bucking as his own pleasure rippled through his veins. And when he finally fell and crashed, there was nothing but heavy silence.

The air was thick was sex and hormones, and whistling of pants and gasps. For a long, interrupted beat, he did not pull out even though we were entirely spent for the day. Emotionally, physically and sexually.

When our heads were finally aligned with sanity and good sense, Raffaele pulled out, and I immediately rolled over to the other side. We both knew that eventually, we have to talk about it, but stillness felt like peace. And both us chose to embrace it.

The bedsheet rustled behind me as I felt him get out of the bed. Was he seriously going to leave without a word? It was then a sense of emptiness struck me – and struck me hard.

A one-night stand or meaningless sexual encounter that he must have had with women, and I was no exception.

I closed my eyes and bit my lips to hold back the tears, fighting them and cling on to my composure.

Since my back was facing Raffaele, I only felt his presence when the bed dipped under his weight. Again, not a word passed between us. A masculine touch of fingertip trailed up my spine as I flinched. Gently, he grabbed my shoulder and rolled me onto my back as our eyes found each other.

I waited for him to speak, to say something, but his face has already gone clinical. Indignantly, I looked away. Raffaele parted my legs to accommodate himself in between.

If he thought he could continue his silent ministrations, he was damn wrong about himself.

Enraged, I slapped his hand away and tried to roll over. “What are you doing?”

He fixed me with a look, and it was then I saw what he was holding in his other hand – a damp hand towel. At first, I could not believe it, but when he proceeded to swipe my inner thighs and sore sex, my head fell back into the pillows. I wasn’t particularly in pain, but definitely sensitive and aching.

Raffaele, with utmost gentleness that he could afford as a man of strength and muscle, proceeded to wipe away. There was nothing sexual about his act, but it all screamed of intimacy—a thoughtful gesture.

Shit.

I immediately berated myself for writing him off as an insensible bastard while he was being nothing but kind. Raffaele disappeared once again into the bathroom but returned quicker than before and claimed his place on the bed beside me.

“Are you still in pain?” he asked, uncharacteristically soft. His arm starched out, pillowing my head as he pulled me closer.

I offered a small smile. “A little sore, but I am fine.”

It was either hormones or my naivety that felt wary of this moment. It was like a little bubble that I knew would burst anytime. And therefore, I did not want it to take it more than anything else. This moment, me in his arms and lying in utter bliss, was all too good to be true.

“I am glad to hear that.” A heavy sigh fell from his lips. “I was worried if I…hurt you.”

The blatant admission from a man like him felt odd. Why did he care so much? “I might have been a virgin, but I am pretty sure this was not your first rodeo.” I forced a small smile to suppress to deep ache in my heart. I would instead take the bitter pill of truth than another my mind with forlorn hope. “And for the record, no – you did not hurt me. Nothing more than I could not take.”

“Hmm,” a hum rumbled in his chest when I have pressed down my palm.” “Then what pissed you off? One minute ago, you looked at me like you wanted to kill me.”

The truth danced over my lips, but I had to bite back the words. Not only would I sound like a fool, but also jealous. “I…you just took me by surprise,” I fibbed.

“I don’t appreciate being lied to right after what we shared,” he said with an edge of displeasure. If he was trying to be considerate, I did not need him to be. I might have been inexperienced in a myriad of ways, but I was strong enough to take the truth as it was.

Besides, he said it himself that he doesn’t sugar coat things.

My stomach flipped a little when I forced out the unwanted words. “I thought this was supposed to be just physical.”

“Just physical?” He looked down at me, thoroughly puzzled, and then raised a brow. “If you are trying to be brave, Celestia, let me tell you that you are sounding highly deceitful and grossly offensive.”

“Highly deceitful and grossly offensive?” I challenged back. “Are you trying to tell me that this – between us – it means something?”

His grey eyes sparkled with unreadable notions. “And what if I tell you that it does?”

Nerves rioted my heart, yet I felt my muscles grow numb. “I’d say you are lying, Raffaele,” I steeled my voice as if it meant nothing to me.

His expression blanched as if someone splashed a bucket of ice over him. “I don’t want to fight you today, and especially right now. Sleep, Celestia,” he encouraged. “Tomorrow, I might change your mind.” I detect a flare of hurt in his tone but did not comment on it.

What could I possibly say or profess that would be right at the moment?

Our bodies were so close, the heat blended between us. It smoked the rest of the conversation away, disintegrating to cinders as we gave in to the tiredness.

Every drop of energy was depleted, and all I wanted was to sleep away the night. So I kept my eyes closed and felt his lips pressed into my hair and planted a lingering kiss.

As much as I wanted to deny or push back the truth into the dark recess of my mind, I knew it would eventually find its way back into my consciousness. Tonight had changed my life. It was going to remain etched into every fiber of my being.

Raffaele might let go of me one day, and allow me the speculative freedom, but I wondered if I’d ever be free of his thoughts?

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