Chapter 60: SIXTY

CELESTIA

Naked, spread, and restrained to Raffaele Roselli.

A few months ago, if someone had told me that I would be getting wet on this fantasy, I would have been offended and outright denied such an outrageous proposition.

And now, these very things vibrated up my spine. A warm hand cupped my sex as I immediately jolted against the binds. “Unh.”

I heard a playful tsk behind me. “Look at you, so wet already, and I have barely touched you.”

He was right, though. His touch was merely hovering between my legs and a deep moan built in my gut. It was the sweetest torture in the world that made me restless with desire. Each press of his fingers has me grinding more and more in vain.

“Spread your legs for me, little minx.” His calm voice was as glossy and impassive as still water lake. “I intend to get my fill tonight.”

I only whimpered in response while he handled me into position. Reeling, I was mindless to his words until a pair of strong hands pried apart my asscheeks, and his tongue invaded into my V.

“Raffaele, oh, God!” I tried to jerk away from my body except I could.

“Bambi, this is not for you. This is for my pleasure,” he said in a reprimanding tone and accentuated with a sharp smack that rang throughout the room. “Now, stay still while I eat your cunt.”

Another smack and it wasn’t his hand. Something leather. When did he bring something leather? The pain bloomed and translated into pleasure as I had to swallow the barely discernible gargle.

The sting slowly began to fade, but the invasion of his mouth deepened. My back hollowed to provide him with the access, and two fingers separated the outer lips. Cool air licked my nakedness, followed by the lapping of his tongue.

“More, more,” I cried. I was already a tight wire suspended over a dizzying abyss.

His tongue continued, around and around, and I was going to come, actually come, and—

He stopped.

My mouth opened in a soundless protest as I glared over my shoulder.

“Did you really think I would let you come before your punishment?” He chuckled under his breath, coming around to appear within my line of sight. “Not happening anytime soon, baby. Not until I decorate this pretty ass with my stripes.” Raffaele waved a weird belt in front of my face—no buckle and extremely short in length.

“How many do you think you deserve?” he asked, and I knew it was rhetorical.

So I shone forth my best innocent face and fluttered my lashes. “As many you want, as long as you let me come afterward.”

His brows shot up. “You think you can handle a punishable ass whopping? Let’s see.” He dropped a kiss on my shoulder and pushed the unruly hair behind my ear. “Tell me the safe word. I need to know that you will remember.”

Safeword? Oh. “Uh—yes, Vegas.”

Raffaele frowned and pinched a nipple, demanding, “Say it again.”

Ow. “Vegas, Vegas. I will remember.”

He did the same with the other one, making me chant until he was satisfied. With a small warning and before I could catch a breath, the first last landed across the butt cheeks. My body shuddered and prepared for the next blow; only it was more intense than the first. The third and fourth blow caught the sensitive thighs, making me cry out.

A rough palm circled over the inflamed flesh. “Are you okay, love?” The kindness in his tone almost made me wail.

“Yes,” I croaked.

“Good. We resume now.”

I waited. And waited some more as time became an interminable enemy. Just when I closed my eyes and let myself surrender into the submission, a blaze of glory slashed against the striped asscheeks.

A wave of pain came and washed over my body but quickly morphed into liquid heat. I vaguely heard the belt thrown to the floor, and two fingers slicked into my passage.

“Come for me, bambi,” came the tantalizing demand, and I did.

I repeatedly did when he finger fucked me against the wall, unrestrained and bent me over a bench, and took me from behind as the sensations crowded into my body and strung every nerve like a chord.

By the end of the night, my throat was as raw as my pussy.

I was neither aware of the time nor my surroundings, only the feel of being wrapped in a soft blanket and cocooned in his lap. Some of the euphorias settled as I heard him murmur things in my ears, sweet and naughty until I drifted off.

RAFFAELE

There was an obnoxious pounding on the door early into my sleep as I groaned and twisted around for it to stop. It didn’t. Instead, it only grew louder with a human voice. A voice I was growing to hate.

“Rafe, wake up! Now.”

I knew he was not about to stop, as annoying as siblings get. Rolling off the bed, I staggered and opened the door. “Amadeo, for fuck’s sake one day, let me sleep it out. I had a long night,” I grunted and went back to fall against the bed.

“Congratulations, you got laid.” He climbed on the bed and started tugging away the covers. “Now wake the fuck up.”

I looked up from the pillow and frowned. “You are keeping tabs on me now?”

“You know I do,” came the unapologetic answer. Bastard. “But I am sorry to say that your happiness is going to be short-lived. I have some information that you are not going to like very much.”

Way to kill my mood.

I sat on the bed, prepared to listen, now that my sleep has gone for a toss. “What happened, and who died?”

He pulled out a paper and dropped on my lap, pointing, “This is the birth certificate of Celestia that I had to obtain by bribing at least seven influential people.”

The very mention of her name put my brain on automation, obliterating any residual tiredness lingering on the nerves. Unfolding, I perused over the names and raked a confused hand through my hair.

“The mother’s name...” I mumbled, glossing over the details.

“Exactly!” I looked up to my brother’s face, who was mirroring the similar confusion on his face. “Why does it have ‘Maya Walker’ listed as her birth mother? And why were her birth details sealed away?”

I was at a loss and did not know where to begin. “Where did you get this?” I asked.

“If you are wondering about the document’s authenticity, I can bet my ass on it. This paper is as real as it gets, Rafe. Which means...” he trailed off, prompting me to pick up.

“Kyla Donovan is not her mother.” I would be lying if I said that I was surprised or shocked, but the entirety of the information was puzzling. “Who is Maya Walker?”

Amadeo shrugged. “Beats me. But according to the medical database, she died a long time ago in New Orleans while giving birth to a child.”

We shared a known look, deciphering one-tenth of the mystery if the information was correct. The rest of it was smoke and mirrors.

“How come Celestia does not know about this, about her?” I wondered, voicing the concern.

“I have two theories,” Amadeo said, lifting a finger and then another. “One, she has never seen her birth certificate. Or, two, what she saw was a fake one. Why do you think Kyla Donovan brings up a child who is not her own?” Amadeo contemplated.

“It means Celestia is extremely valuable to her.” That was the only plausible explanation. Given what a foxy woman she was, Kyla would not take up a task if it did not give her an advantage.

“You need to tell Celestia—”

“Absolutely not,” I cut him off. “Until and unless we know the whole truth, I am not confronting her with anything. She is too emotional and vulnerable when it comes to Kyla. I am not going to risk her safety like this.”

He slowly nodded, understood, and absorbed the words. Amadeo was the only person who could fathom the length I was ready to go for her.

“So what do we do now?” he asked.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I closed my eyes and felt the tiredness creeping back. “Maya Walker has to be somehow connected to Celestia’s father or Kyla. We need to find out how. Once we do that, we will deal with Kyla or whoever comes along.” Amadeo nodded and scrambled out of bed. I followed his suit and picked up my phone from the bedside table. “Meanwhile, I have to inform Alec and ask him to look around.”

He clapped a hand over my back and proceeded to leave but stopped midway to turn around. He called out my name, making me face him. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

I complied. “So do I. Amadeo, if we don’t get anything within forty-eight hours, I will bring her back here. I don’t care what I have signed. Kyla Donovan can raise hell if she wants, but she is not getting her back.”

Scroll down my loves, I have posted another update for you all. Ch. 62 is live right now!