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Oh, they had their spats. Rafael had not risen from being picked up off the street and stuck in an orphanage, to middle class, to obscenely wealthy without possessing self-serving, driven, and occasionally ruthless attributes. He didn’t apologize for that, but he learned to restrain his worst impulses for the sake of a peaceful marriage.
Alexandra was difficult at times, but it came from being a passionate person who had been materially spoiled all her life. She had a strong grasp of her own worth and wasn’t afraid to hold her ground when she decided she wanted something.
For the most part, however, they were aligned in their goal, which was to become a force to be reckoned with. While he accumulated the power of money, she nurtured their connections and influence.
Rafael knew why he needed the security of being dominant and untouchable. He never again wanted to be as vulnerable as he had been in his early years. Alexandra hadn’t ever been cold and hungry, sleeping behind dumpsters, though. She hadn’t been knocked around for being unable to read and write, then for doing it better than anyone else. She had never been surrounded by four grown men determined to punish a young man who was growing too big for his britches.
Which wasn’t to say he didn’t see the small abuses her stepfather attempted to visit upon her. Every few months, a rumor would surface that Rafael had brainwashed his wife or that she was heavily medicated or otherwise incapable of making her own decisions. Humbolt sold her favorite car “because it had become a liability” and forced her to fly in for meetings that were canceled at the last minute.
Rafael always retaliated. He paid for renovations at her summerhouse in Martha’s Vineyard, closing it the week before her parents were scheduled to use it. He insisted they ship a number of rare paintings to their home in Athens and had his accounting team continually put pressure on Humbolt for financial reports that Alexandra didn’t need.
It was tit-for-tat nonsense that didn’t seem serious enough to get under Alexandra’s skin as far as it did, but he didn’t complain since her hatred of her parents made her as determined as he was to conquer and rule all corners of the world.
For the most part she managed her own money, but she frequently invested large chunks with him that he used for acquisitions and expansions, typically doubling her money before he rolled it back to her.
Meanwhile, she protected and assisted him in his endeavors by keeping her ears open. She would caution, “I’ve heard there’s bad blood there. Cover yourself if you get into bed with them.” Or, “Her father is in oil, if that interests you. We could invite her family onto the yacht.”
The Alexandra was a forty-meter superyacht that he purchased when Alexandra had heard a rumor that a lesser royal was in trouble and needed a quiet bailing out. Rafael bought it for a third of its true value and regularly leased it out so it paid for itself. It had become not only a jewel in his corporate crown, but an excellent means of conducting business in a relaxed setting.
They had it to themselves on their first anniversary—with a full crew, obviously. Neither of them could be bothered to do more than carry a used cup to a sideboard for a refill, but they had no guests and thus were entertaining each other in their very favorite way.
Tonight, Alexandra was on her knees between his feet where he sat on the bed. She was curling his toes as she drew out his pleasure with tantalizing slowness, lavishing attention on his throbbing erection, humming with pleasure as she anointed him.
He watched as long as he could, fighting to hold on to his control. As much as he adored this act, however, he far preferred to hold back and prove to both of them that he was his own master, not her.
“Stop,” he commanded in a voice that was so thick, it barely emerged from his throat.
She lifted her head, eyelids swollen, lips lax, the picture of eroticism.
“Are you not enjoying this, darling?” She blew softly on his wet flesh, causing his balls to tighten. The root of his shaft pulsed in her fist and he nearly finished from that alone.
“I want to be inside you.” He lay back in a silent command for her to straddle him.
“Are you sure?” She pressed her fist down, drawing his skin taut as she painted a flagrant pattern with her tongue, tracing the shape of his tip. The dance of her tongue in the most exquisite place was his defeat.
With a guttural shout, he caught the worst of it in his palm, spilling the rest onto his belly, but as delicious as that orgasm was, he was irritated that she’d got the better of him.
She kissed the back of his hand and purred, “Such a gentleman.”
She rose and walked away, still wearing the bra and garters and hose and five-inch heels that had brought him to attention before she’d tantalized him past his point of no return.
She returned with a warm damp cloth and cleaned him up with tender care.
His heart was still unsteady, his blood sizzling. He was so sexually gratified, he shouldn’t be taking issue with the smug curl at the corners of her mouth, but he did. He felt...not weak, exactly, but not as superior as he liked to be.
Not that he wanted to lord over her. It wasn’t like that between them. He had a lot of regard for this woman who wore tantalizing lingerie purely for his pleasure. The demi-cups of her bra were low enough to reveal her areoles, and the front of the thong barely covered her landing strip. Eyeing that peek and tease outfit was already causing him to twitch back to life.
She slipped out of her shoes and sprawled alongside him, warm and soft. Her hair fell around his face as she kissed him with the sort of passion most men dreamed of experiencing just once. He steeped himself in her constantly, basking in the fact that she was all his.
Yet she wasn’t. That was the piece that was unsettling him. In this year of marriage, he had become deeply invested in their partnership. Sometimes he wondered if he was more invested than she was. He wasn’t sure why he had that impression, but it had something to do with the way she drew firm boundaries around parts of herself and her past.
He wanted to know this was more than what it had been when they started, which was a combination of a very delicious affair and a very advantageous business arrangement. It should be a relief to him that their hearts weren’t inextricably entangled, but he wanted a deeper commitment from her, something that cemented her place in his life.
“We should talk about children,” he said when her lips slid to nibble at his jaw.
“Whose?” she asked, playing obtuse.
“Ours,” he clarified.
