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His eyes darkened, and for a moment the air sparked with something dangerous. “I was going to the office because the cell service is better there, but I’m always up for some fun. What did you have in mind?”
I needed no more encouragement, as I stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his mouth. It was all the encouragement he needed, too.
His lips were surprisingly soft and warm, insistent, but his tongue was magic, coaxing my mouth open with little effort. I brushed against his cock as he explored my mouth. It was an accident—not the kiss but the cock thing. Although his rough groan was so damn sexy that my pussy fluttered. I wanted to hear that groan again, so I rubbed up against him once more. Harder this time. Brazen. Like I wasn’t playing with fire—or at least I didn’t care.
“Lexie,” he murmured. “You should go back to the party. You’re too young for me and too precious,” he whispered, cradling my face with his large hands. “And too damn tempting. If we start, I’m not going to be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop. I think about you all the time,” I blurted like a fool. “Your mouth on my skin. Your cock in my pussy. You’re my favorite fantasy.”
Rafael groaned again, a deep rumble from his chest. His hands were everywhere. He devoured my mouth, the kiss deepening until I couldn’t breathe.
“Let’s go inside,” he murmured above my ear as he pulled away. “Somewhere I can enjoy you without a care.”
I shivered as he took my hand and led me inside the small building. I wasn’t going to fuck him. I was going to let him fuck me. Because men like Rafael were always in charge. It was a sobering moment but filled with the kind of bottomless joy that children feel on Christmas morning. I had dreamed about this forever—or at least it felt that way.
When we got inside, the windows were cracked, and the music from the party waltzed in the thick air.
The door wasn’t even closed before we were all over each other, our hands burning trails of pleasure as we explored. I was so intoxicated I could barely stand—not from alcohol, but from him. His possessive touch. His woodsy cologne, with the spicy, musky notes crackling as I breathed it in.
Rafael unzipped my dress, and it slid to my feet in a silky lavender pool. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, his eyes flitting over my skin.
“So are you,” I croaked, burning for him.
I wasn’t wearing a bra, and he lowered his mouth to my nipple, and I felt the sensations—everywhere.
When he dipped his hand into my thong, I whimpered and kneaded his shoulders as he stroked between my legs. Every nerve ending lit, the flames swaying seductively for him.
“I’ve thought about you too,” Rafael confessed, sliding two fingers into my grateful pussy. “When you came back from college, you weren’t a little girl anymore, and I thought about you more than was wise. I fantasized about you. Filthy fantasies that made my balls ache.”
It was bliss. All of it, and I was out of my mind with the raw carnality of his confession. I couldn’t think. I could only feel as a giant wave took hold. I clung to him, lowering my forehead to his shoulder as my belly coiled tight.
“Let go, Lexie,” he cajoled. “Come for me, meu anjo.”
There was nothing I wanted more than to be his angel—especially in that moment.
When he curled his fingers inside me, I clenched around them and shook, the gasps of pleasure finding their way into the night air.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his warm breath grazing my temple. “Do you want more? Should I slide my cock inside your sweet pussy?”
I nodded. I wanted this. I wanted him.
He moved his fingers deeper, and I moaned. “You’re tight, baby.”
“And you’re big,” I teased, sliding my hand over his hard cock. It was true. Even through his trousers, I could feel he was long and thick. It was going to hurt. And I didn’t care.
“Let’s make you a little wetter,” he whispered, “a little needier.”
He eased me back on the antique desk and lowered his head between my legs, tonguing my sensitive pussy, licking and sucking while I writhed on Valentina’s grandfather’s desk.
I’d never experienced anything like him. The boys I had been with—were boys, not all that more experienced than me.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he said, kissing my belly, “until you scream.”
I don’t know what it was, but he must have sensed something, because he hesitated before he stood, hovering inches from my face.
“Have you had lovers?” he asked softly, peering into my eyes.
I knew he didn’t mean lovers I’d kissed or let play with me, or whom I played with. He meant, Are you a virgin? I wasn’t going to answer that, not unless he forced my hand. If I told him the truth, he’d stop. I knew it. I wasn’t sure how or why, but I was certain he wouldn’t take my virginity—even if I begged.
