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“Rafa,” I moan when the oil drips across my breasts and onto my nipples, sending a jolt straight to my pussy.
“What is it, Angel? Do you want me to stop?”
I shake my head vigorously, but the curl of his mouth tells me he knows I would murder him if he stopped.
“Lie still,” he demands, sliding farther back until he’s almost at my feet.
He continues to rouse my flesh with the oil, his fingers playing my skin expertly. When his hand hovers over my belly, I feel liquid pool in my navel. It tickles, and I clench my buttocks to stop from writhing.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, rewarding me with several warm drops on my bare pussy.
“Ahh.” I gasp at the sensation, waiting for his fingers to draw the torturous swirls that have every nerve ending on edge.
“We’re running out of oil.”
Oh no, not yet. We’re at the best part. Don’t stop. Please.
“Let’s just warm this up a bit.”
I close my eyes while he places the candle on the counter and relights the wick. The bergamot-and-citrus scent comes alive again—it might be the best thing I’ve ever smelled.
While the candle is burning, Rafael whirls the droplets of oil around my mound with enough pressure to make my toes curl. But he doesn’t dip his fingers through the outer lips—no matter how much I will him to do it.
When I find the strength, I open my eyes and gaze at him. My tormentor. My beautiful tormentor.
I smile softly, and he runs a thumb over my lips, and I draw it into my mouth and suck, the faint taste of oil teasing my tongue. He groans and pulls his hand away, his eyes black now, with no trace of blue. I spread my legs wider, but he makes no move to take what I’m offering, and I squeeze my eyes tight to stop from combusting right here, on this island.
“I’m not telling you what to do,” I whimper, desperation curling around every syllable. “But I think you missed a spot.”
He smirks. “What spot was that, sweetheart?”
When my hand grazes the pink flesh between my legs, he draws a noisy, ragged breath.
“The oil isn’t lube,” he grunts. “It has fragrance and other stuff that doesn’t belong in your pussy. You’ll need to be patient, Angel.”
I can’t be patient for one second more.
He lowers himself over me and draws a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping until it’s tender. Then he blows out the candle, and I know what he’s going to do, even before he lets the oil stream onto my nipples. Still, I practically levitate off the table when the very warm liquid caresses the sensitive nipple.
What I don’t expect is for him to lower his mouth and blow cool air on the tight point until I’m thrashing against the polished quartz. When he’s finished, he lavishes attention on the other breast.
“Rafael,” I wail, bucking off the stone. “I don’t care if it’s not lube.”
“Just a little more, Angel. Be patient. Good girls get special rewards.”
I can’t take any more. I can’t. But I want the special reward. I know it will be something wonderful—like a thigh-shaking orgasm.
I curl my hands into fists and fill my lungs with breath, finding a wisp of patience somewhere deep inside. He drizzles the last of the oil over my inner thighs and sweeps his palms up and down, staying just short of the place where I need him most. It’s torture. Exquisite torture.
Just when I’m about to tackle him and rub my pussy all over his hard muscle, he wipes his hands on a towel and brings them between my legs. His fingers graze lightly over my clit, so lightly it’s like they’re barely there.
“Look at me, Lexie. I want to watch your eyes change color when you come for me.”
He leans forward, lowering his mouth to mine, and we engage in a ruthless battle, tongue against tongue until I can’t breathe.
Rafael slides a finger inside me, and as his mouth continues to explore mine, he adds another finger, keeping the pressure on my clit.
My body welcomes his fingers, squeezing them until it’s not enough, until I need to rock my hips to quicken the pace.
