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“Hold this, and don’t you dare let go,” he commands, handing me the showerhead and easing us closer to the edge of the bench.
I’m shaking as I take it, holding it with both hands—one hand wouldn’t be enough. I teeter, feeling less steady now that I can’t cling to him, but I trust him not to let me fall.
With his feet planted firmly on the tile, he moves me like I’m a rag doll who exists only for his pleasure.
“Hold the spray closer to your pussy. Let it beat on your pretty pink flesh.”
My womb tightens, as the orgasm gathers with such steam that I’m afraid to let go. “I can’t.”
“Do it,” he commands, wrapping an arm around my waist.
It’s steadying, and somewhere I find it in me to obey. With trembling hands, I bring the showerhead closer, edging myself toward the cliff. I’m coiled too tight. I can’t. I can’t.
His hips jerk, before my anguished scream, and I let the shower handle drop as the orgasm twists, almost painfully, from my body.
He curses loudly, before the primal sound of a wild animal fills the steamy enclosure as he finds his own release.
32
RAFAEL
I grab my phone from the nightstand to see if there’s anything from Tamar, but no such luck. I’m confident she’s working on it, so that means the information is difficult to trace.
“Put your phone down,” the woman lying next to me with a serious case of bedhead and bruised lips orders, like the fucking queen she is.
We’ve been at each other since the shower late last night like two horny teenagers. My body is sore, and I’m sure hers is worse. Otherwise I’d give her a lesson about who issues orders and who follows them.
“I’ll be away Wednesday morning on business,” I tell her, continuing to scroll, because there’s only one person I take orders from, and it isn’t her. “If it’s still quiet tomorrow night, let’s have dinner at Sirena.”
“That sounds fabulous. I need a break from this place. I also need to go to Oslo later this week.”
She drops the grenade like it’s no big deal, but her twitchy eye gives her away.
“What’s in Oslo?”
“The fjords.”
I slap her ass, and she yelps. “Let’s try it again. What’s in Oslo?”
“You notice I didn’t ask you where you were going on business or what you’d be doing. You’re a great lay, but don’t get clingy on me, Huntsman.”
Oh, Angel, you are not doing this. Before we’re done, I’m going to fuck that piss-poor coping mechanism right out of you.
I roll on top of her and rock my hips into her pelvis. “The only thing getting clingy is your pussy around my cock.” I dip my head and kiss her roughly until she’s gasping for air.
“What’s in Oslo?” I ask for the third time, because while she’s in my bed, I’ll be as clingy as I fucking want. Besides, she’s not going anywhere that I don’t sanction until we have a better handle on the danger. And I won’t sanction anything until I have all the details.
“I need to write an article about Anne Nilson, another up-and-coming designer like Judite Furtado.”
I don’t believe Judite is why you came to Porto, and I’m not inclined to believe this either. Although I did read the draft of her article on Judite’s shop, and I know she submitted it. Maybe I’m too suspicious. “Can it wait?”
“Not really. It’s part of a series the magazine is doing on young female entrepreneurs who are shaking things up. Kind of like you re-envisioning Port.”
I’ve never gotten the impression that freelance writing is her passion. It’s just a placeholder that allows her to travel until she finds her calling. But even so, I don’t want to make it impossible for her to do her job. Although there’s no way she’s going unless I’m certain she’ll be safe. Job or no job.
I slide off her. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow night.”
“Rafael?” She rolls to her side and traces a finger over my jaw, peering into my face. Her expression is warm and soft, but her eyes have the spark of defiance. “We can talk about it, but I’m going. I won’t be a prisoner here, even with the sexy perks. I’m done with captivity. My father’s or yours.”
