Cutting Sausage, craving sin.
Angel’s Pov.
Feathery kisses brushed against my skin, pulling me gently from my peaceful slumber.
A soft giggle escaped my lips as I stirred.
“Stop, that tickles,” I laughed sleepily, trying to squirm away. But Raul only wrapped his large arm around my waist, pulling me snug against his warm, bare chest.
“Well, I won’t stop until you get your sleepy ass out of bed,” he groaned into my neck, his voice husky and amused.
“But I want to sleep some more,” I whined, snuggling deeper into the sheets. “Besides, we don’t have any shooting today.”
“Yes, we do, tesoro.”
My eyes flew open, and I sat upright like I’d just been electrocuted.
“Raul! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I didn’t get to rehearse, or prep, or—”
The deep rumble of his laughter made my words die mid-sentence.
I froze, my eyes glued to his face.
Damn.
The way his head tilted back slightly, eyes crinkling at the edges, the sound of his laughter echoing in the room—it was intoxicating.
He was so beautiful when he laughed. Why didn’t he do it more often?
“You’re so cute when you ramble, Angel,” he said, his voice still laced with amusement. “It’s just a photoshoot, caramella.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flushed. “Right.”
“Why do we need a photoshoot, though?” I asked, raising a brow.
“For the magazines, tabloids, billboards,” he said, stretching lazily. “Our picture’s going to be the new cover for the book.”
I nodded in understanding. “Okay, okay. I’ll go get ready.”
I slipped into the bathroom and freshened up. But when I came out wrapped in only a towel, reality hit me.
I had no clothes to wear—thanks to a certain someone who shredded my last dress like wrapping paper.
The memories of last caused a smile to creep onto my face.
His voice broke through the silence, cutting me out of my reverie.
“Think whatever you want, Catalina,” he snapped, then ended the call with a frustrated tap before tossing his phone onto the bed.
Uh-oh.
That angry aura? Not pleasant.
I hesitated.
Should I speak now… or wait until the storm cloud over his head passed?
“Raul?” I called softly, testing the waters.
His head snapped toward me. But when his eyes landed on mine, the fury seemed to ease—just a little.
“Uhm… I don’t have anything to wear,” I murmured, gripping the towel tighter.
Without a word, he got up and disappeared into the closet. Moments later, he returned and handed me a sleek white shopping bag.
“Here.”
I took the bag cautiously, pulled out the content, and blinked.
It was a dress but looked skimpy. Really skimpy.
“I-I don’t think this’ll be my size, Raul,” I said warily, holding it up like it might bite.
“Just try it on, tesoro,” he muttered, like he couldn’t be bothered to argue.
He looked exhausted, probably from Catalina poking his temper in all the wrong places. Not wanting to push him further, I nodded and disappeared back into the bathroom.
When I stepped in front of the mirror, I wasn’t even surprised by what I saw.
The nude off-shoulder dress clung to my body like a second skin, outlining every dangerous curve.
My cleavage peeked out boldly, and my nipples made a very clear appearance through the thin fabric—because of course I didn’t have a bra.
As for panties? Nonexistent.
I hadn’t packed any extras.
I tried tugging the hem lower, but it barely did anything to cover my thighs. The dress didn’t just fit—it wrapped around me like a damn glue.
I was sitting in the living room waiting for Raul when a text from Luca popped up on my phone.
Luca: “Mom’s surgery is tomorrow. Will you be there?”
Me: “Of course I will, Luca. What sort of question is that?”
Luca: “A question you could’ve answered without the sarcasm. ”
I smiled, shaking my head, and switched off the phone.
Just as I was about to turn around, I felt two strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back into a warm, hard chest.
His intoxicating scent instantly filled my senses, and I melted into his embrace without resistance.
“You look so damn sexy in this outfit,” Raul murmured into my ear, his voice thick and low.
A shiver rippled through me, my cheeks heating at the way his breath licked over my skin.
I placed my hand over his and tilted my head, granting him better access to my neck.
“Raul,” I breathed.
He hummed in response, lips brushing my skin.
“I love your scent,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.
I felt his smirk against my neck.
“You can have the cologne if you want it,” he murmured.
That made me spin around instantly.
“Really?” He nodded and tapped my nose playfully.
“Yes, amoré. But you won’t use it all the time. I love the chocolate fragrance on you more.”
His thumb brushed my bottom lip, sending a sharp flutter to my chest.
“Raul…” I said again, this time more hesitantly.
He stilled, his gaze focused on mine, waiting.
“D-do we have any shoots scheduled for tomorrow?”
His brows lifted slightly. “Yeah. Why?”
“C-can a scene where I’m not needed be shot instead? I… I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tomorrow.”
He frowned, concern creasing his forehead. “Why not?”
I hesitated. My chest tightened, unsure if I should tell him—I didn’t want him worrying about my problems.
But then came that tone.
“Angel,” he warned. Firm. No room for silence.
“It’s my mom’s surgery tomorrow,” I admitted softly, my eyes lowering.
The change in his expression was instant. The confusion dissolved into understanding.
“I didn’t know about that,” he admitted softly. “I’ll come with you.”
I shook my head quickly. “N-no, Raul. You don’t have to do that. It’s not necessary—”
“I wasn’t asking, tesoro,” he cut in, voice low and final. “I’m telling you.”
I opened my mouth to argue but knew better. When Raul said something with that tone, it was sealed.
Later that morning, while I stood at the counter making breakfast, his arms wrapped around my waist again.
“Raul, are you really not going to let go?” I asked with a smile, tossing an amused glance over my shoulder.
But I didn’t get an answer.
Instead, he suddenly spun me around, pressing my back hard against the counter. The impact startled me—and so did the painful pinch he gave my hip.
His eyes darkened, blue flames flickering with fury.
“I’ll give you one piece of advice, Angel,” he growled, gripping my chin tightly between his fingers.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me again. Or I swear, I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a year.”
I gulped, nerves tangled with need as my clit pulsed under the weight of his dominance and filthy promises.
Last night had taught me a lesson—Raul D’Amano doesn’t make threats. He gives warnings. Warnings that come true.
“Now,” he said, brushing a soft kiss on my lips, “let’s go back to making breakfast, hmm?”
He turned me around by my hips so I was facing the counter again.
My fingers were trembling as I picked up the knife to continue slicing the sausage, but the heat between us was unbearable.
My ass pressed against his hard length, and his breath tickled my ear as he leaned in.
He nuzzled into my neck, lips trailing along my skin, while his hands roamed freely over my hips and ass, squeezing and massaging as if he owned every inch of me—which, in his eyes, he did.
Lord help me not to burn down his condo. But if I did, I’d gladly blame it on him.
“Raul…” I moaned breathlessly when I felt his hand slip beneath my dress.
“Focus, tesoro,” he murmured darkly, licking the shell of my ear.
“I won’t have my property going up in flames just because my girl can’t control her needy little body.”
I bit my lip, fighting back the pleasure twisting through me.
Then his fingers brushed against my bare, soaked clit and I gasped—knife clattering against the counter as my head fell back.
“If you stop cutting that sausage,” his voice dropped lower, husky and dripping with sin, “then I’ll stop finger-fucking that pretty little pussy.”
“Raul… please—I might cut myself,” I whimpered when he pinched my fold, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure to my core.
“Then be careful, sweetheart,” he said, lips brushing my neck, “and daddy will reward you.”
He bit down gently at the curve of my neck as I, with shaky hands, picked the knife back up and resumed chopping.
Without warning, he slowly slid into me—and I screamed, caught off guard by the sudden sting.
“Tesoro…” he paused, still inside me, “Are you—are you a virgin?”
His voice was laced with shock, and though I couldn’t see his face, I could picture the disbelief written across it.
“Yes,” I moaned shakily, my voice betraying both pain and desire.
“Fuck, Angel… I didn’t know—I’m sor—”
“I want you, Raul,” I whispered, cutting him off before guilt could settle in his chest.
“Are you sure?” He asked again, breathless.
There was no going back. We were already too far gone. Whether I became his mistress, his secret, or something more, I had made my decision.
Raul D’Amano would be the first—and last—man to ever touch me.
“Yes, Raul. I want you.”
A harsh spank cracked against my ass, and he yanked my hair back, lips near my ear as he growled, “Once you give yourself to me, there’s no turning back. You’ll be Raul D’Amano’s—forever.”
Then, slowly, he pushed his index finger inside.
“Fuuuck!” I screamed, the pain exquisite, thrilling.
He stilled, letting my walls adjust to the intrusion, giving me time to breathe—to feel.
But in that pause, I knew there was no undoing this.
And I didn’t want to.