Tears on his Bedsheet.
Angel’s Pov.
Warning ‼️ ‼️‼️
Sexual content in this chapter.
We arrived at his condo, and without wasting a second to flick on the lights, Raul slammed me against the door and crashed his lips onto mine.
His hands were rough—desperate—as they roamed down my sides and snuck beneath my dress.
“Raul,” I gasped, the sudden jolt of heat shooting through me like wildfire. He bit my bottom lip and tugged on it slowly with his teeth.
“If there’s one thing I won’t tolerate, tesoro, it’s being ignored,” he growled low, his voice soaked in anger.
“I’m so fucking mad at you… and I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
The dangerous edge in his tone made my panties flood.
“I—I’m sorry, I—”
The sound of fabric ripping cut through the air.
My breath hitched as the expensive dress was torn from my body, exposing my bare breasts.
His electric-blue eyes drank in the sight of me, igniting every nerve in my body.
He bit his lip and inhaled sharply.
“Fuck this,” he muttered, gripping one of my breasts with a palm so warm I shivered—especially when the cold metal of his rings met my skin.
Then came his tongue.
It flicked, circled, and dragged across my nipple, making my spine arch uncontrollably.
“Fuuuck,” I moaned, head falling back as his mouth and hand worked together to send shockwaves of pleasure through me.
I reached for his hair, but he stopped me. With a devilish glint in his eye, he clamped his teeth down lightly on my nipple—teasing pain and pleasure until my eyes watered.
My legs were already shaking, but he held me steady, never once easing his assault.
“Raul, I….” Another sharp bite to my neck made me cry out.
Without breaking contact from my body, he lifted me effortlessly into his arms and carried me to the bedroom.
He tossed me on the bed and hovered over me, devouring my mouth in a kiss that stole every breath from my lungs.
One hand pinned my wrists above my head, the other gripping my hip. My legs locked around his waist, desperate to pull him closer—closer until nothing existed but him.
He pulled away abruptly and flipped me over onto my stomach by the hips.
“Ass up. Arms behind your back. Face down,” he ordered, voice a low, intoxicating growl that sent heat flooding through me.
I obeyed instantly, knowing full well I was stepping into dangerous, delicious territory.
Tan perfecto, he murmured in Spanish, the words sliding off his tongue like silk.
Then I felt it—his tongue. Hot. Wet. Wicked.
“R…Raul…mmmh,” I moaned, clutching the sheets as his tongue danced and his teeth gently grazed me, making me push my hips back into his face.
He pulled me up by my curls, lips brushing my ear.
“I’ll be right back, tesoro,” he rasped, biting my earlobe.
My soaked core clenched with impatience. I could barely breathe as I listened for his return.
The door creaked open, and my heart hammered in my chest. His footsteps were slow… deliberate… menacing.
I peeked back over my shoulder, and froze.
He held a pair of silver cuffs and a piece of red silk. My eyes went wide, and I swallowed hard.
The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips told me everything I needed to know—he had no intention of going easy on me tonight.
He knelt in front of me, and I quickly lowered my gaze.
He gripped my chin harshly and captured my mouth in another punishing kiss. Every time we kissed, it felt like the first time—electric, possessive, unforgettable.
“It’s time to make you mine, Angel Caribello,” he whispered against my throat.
“Time to make you Daddy’s perfect slut.”
He yanked my wrists behind my back, and I flinched at the click of the cuffs locking.
The silk followed, covering my eyes and plunging me into darkness—leaving only the heat of his voice and the throb between my thighs.
“Ass up, tesoro,” he commanded again.
I complied, trembling with anticipation.
His palm caressed my ass, then pressed a kiss to one cheek—only to follow it with a hard slap that echoed through the room.
“Choose a safe word, tesoro.”
“Blue,” I whispered without hesitation—my favorite thing about him. His eyes.
“When you can’t take it anymore, say it. Understood?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
Another hard smack.
“I work with words, honey.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I corrected quickly.
“Good girl.”
He stroked my ass again before another harsh smack rang out, the sting sending a tear rolling down my cheek.
“Thank you, Daddy. One more for your perfect slut,” I whispered, my voice shaky but eager.
And just like that, my punishment began.
“Raul!” I screamed his name with the final, searing spank. My voice cracked, and so did whatever restraint I had left.
Raul was a man of his word—if I forgot to say the words, we started over. If he didn’t hear me, we started over. And this time, I said it too late.
My cheeks were slick with tears, and my ass throbbed with a punishing ache that lingered like fire beneath my skin.
He slid the blindfold off, revealing his gaze—dark, intense, and proud.
Then, without a word, he scooped me up bridal style and carried me to the couch.
He sat down, legs spread, placing me astride him. My breath hitched.
“You look so beautiful when you cry from my spanks, tesoro,” he murmured, his lips curling into a wicked smirk as his fingers gently lifted my chin for a soft, lingering kiss.
His touch wandered, tracing the delicate ink on my waist, dragging down to my hip. Even the air around us seemed to shiver.
I ached to run my fingers through his soft curls, to clutch something—anything—to ground myself, but my wrists were still cuffed behind my back.
“Ride me, Caramella,” he rasped, voice heavy with want.
Our eyes locked—his gaze burning into mine, thick with need. I could already feel his bulge, growing hard beneath me, pressing against my heat.
“Feel something you like, Angel?” He teased, lips brushing mine. I looked away with a shy smile, rolling my hips in reply.
His hands flew to my thighs, gripping them tight.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back as I moved, blissfully grinding against the thick outline of his cock beneath the fabric.
“Fuck, tesoro,” he groaned, his voice deep and raw, head falling back as his palms slid over my sore cheeks, then kneaded them with sinful intent.
I whimpered as he dug his nails into my hips. The friction between my soaked thong and his damp boxers sent jolts of electric pleasure through me.
Then his mouth found my breast again, latching onto my nipple with the same hunger as before.
I gasped, my body arching, trapped between pleasure and the delicious sting of his lips and teeth.
Finally—finally—he unlocked the cuffs.
The moment my hands were free, I reached under the soft fabric of his turtleneck, eager, breathless, and tugged it over his head.
My fingers froze, as they always did, tracing the masterpiece that was Raul D’Amano’s body.
The sharp lines of his abs, the tattoo etched across his right pec, the small eagle soaring across his neck, and the ink rolling down his muscled arms like something ancient and dangerous.
I ran my hands over each line, each muscle. He never looked away.
I ground against him slowly, then began kissing up his neck, deliberately slow, letting my tongue flick against the cool metal of his chain.
My lips pressed marks into his skin—red, tender reminders of where I’d been.
My palm wandered down his abs, resting just above his belt, teasing the edge.
Raul tangled his fingers in my hair and gently pulled my face away from his chest, stealing another kiss—deep, tender, and reverent.
\~~~~~~
I showered and slipped into one of his shirts—oversized, soft, and smelling like him. I curled up in bed, waiting for him, my skin still tingling from what we’d done.
The memory of him—his hands, his voice, the way he broke me and then pieced me back together—left my cheeks warm and my body already aching for more.
I bit my lip, lost in thought, until the bed dipped behind me.
Raul’s arms wrapped around my waist, dragging me into him with ease.
I gasped, then smiled, turning to face him.
His palm slid over my hip and rested there like it belonged.
“What are you thinking about, Caramella?” He murmured, his voice husky and heavy with sleep.
His freshly showered scent—clean, woody, masculine—wrapped around me like silk.
“It’s nothing, really,” I whispered against his lips, making sure he could see my eyes. “I was just thinking about you.”
He smirked, his hand gliding slowly down to cup my ass.
“I’m glad you were, tesoro. And you should keep thinking about me. Think of all the things I’ll do to you. The pain. The pleasure. The joy… and the laughter.”
He kissed me—soft and slow this time, like he had all the time in the world.
I melted into him, wrapped my arms around his torso, and buried my face in his chest.
It was hard, warm, safe. And terrifyingly addictive.