Unfurl: Chapter 33
A wide-legged stance in four-inch heels when you’re aroused beyond belief is no mean feat. Nor is working out what to do with your arms. I stand, arms loose and fists clenching by my sides, as Rafe rummages in the drawer of the cabinet beside us. And when a buzzing noise kicks in, my anticipation ratchets up a notch.
He holds up a wand vibrator. It’s small—no bigger than a super-sized tampon—but I eye it like it will be the death of me.
‘Let’s have some fun,’ he murmurs, dark eyes raking over my body like he’s deciding where to start. Oh, crap. Wherever he puts it, it’ll finish me off. ‘Shall I start with your nipples?’ He cocks an eyebrow sexily.
‘Yes, please, sir,’ I say.
‘So well-mannered,’ he murmurs, and he holds the tip of the wand to my left nipple. It pulses for a mere second before he removes it, but the pleasure is so intense my legs almost buckle. ‘Woah there, Bambi,’ he mutters. ‘Hold on to my shoulders.’
I slide my hands over the crisp cotton and hard muscle of his shoulders and glance down between us. The contrast is so hot. I’m naked except for my choker and heels, and he’s fully dressed, having done his trousers back up before embarking on his sex toy hunt. He’s the consummate polished businessman, and I’m a whore, bare and writhing in front of him.
I love it.
‘Such fucking perfect tits,’ he murmurs, moving the wand to my other nipple, and jeez. I have a similar reaction, chewing on my lower lip and digging my fingernails into his shoulders to stay upright.
‘How’s this?’ he asks. He proceeds to move the wand from one nipple to the other, back and forth, just a touch at a time. I’m drooling, my nipples are on fire, my head is spinning and my clit is pulsing with need.
‘Amazing,’ I gasp. ‘Just—ahhh. God. Incredible.’
‘Good.’
His face is pure sin. I should have known the moment I saw him that he was the devil and he’d take me to places I couldn’t conceive of, introduce me to sins of the flesh so wicked that there would be no redemption.
Zero.
Sod redemption.
I just want to come.
‘Widen your legs,’ he orders, and I stare into those beautiful, sinful eyes and obey, widening my stance as much as I can without squatting. He rewards me by trailing the vibrator down over my stomach towards the place that needs it most desperately. He pushes it against my pubic bone, and I swear my entire body tingles.
‘You think that sweet little cunt can handle this?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’ I nod vigorously.
He pauses.
‘Yes please.’
His lips curve up into a satisfied smile as he slides the wand down and angles it up. It makes contact with my clit for a second, and I practically jump through the ceiling, because it’s so good, it’s so perfectly good that I will come in three seconds flat if he keeps this up. I claw at his shoulders and hang my head as fevered, breathless oh my Gods spill from my lips.
Rafe’s spare hand goes to my waist, squeezing hard, before dragging up my body so he can pinch my nipple while he touches the wand to my clit again. I’m moaning now, mewling like a kitten. I don’t think I’ve ever needed to come so badly.
‘That’s it,’ he growls. ‘On the bed. Sit right on the edge.’
Right on the edge seems fitting, for it’s how I feel. I’m on the brink of sanity. I glance behind me and perch my bottom on the very edge of the mattress before looking up at him for further instructions.
‘On your back. Legs open as wide as you can.’
I’m flat on my back quicker than you can say ho-bag, my feet planted wide on the floor. Rafe reaches into his pocket, pulling out a tube of lube, popping the cap and smearing it over the wand before, thanks be to all that is holy, he sinks to his knees in front of me.
He’s right there. His face is inches from my flesh, and I feel like a puppy salivating for a treat. Then his fingers are parting my folds, holding me open, exposing my clit and stretching my skin in a way I know will make every touch extra.
‘Legs up. I want you playing with your tits, okay?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I pant, putting my hands to my breasts and rolling my nipples around between my fingers, and boy does that feel good. But I need more.
I need him.
He’s watching me play with myself, and he must like what he sees, for he puts the wand not to my clit, as I’m expecting, but inside me, before turning it back on. It’s small and slick enough to slide in easily, and oh my God, does the pulsing echo through my entire lower body in the most intense way.
‘You’re going to be so ready for my cock when I’ve finished warming you up,’ he says, and blessed be God, he bends that beautiful, dark head and seals his mouth to my clit.
It’s everything. Everything I need. The languorous strokes of his tongue, the vibrator inside me, the pinch of my fingers on my nipples. All these sensations collide and build and cascade over me. Rafe slides the wand out, touches it to my clit, sniggers darkly when I buck like a horse being broken, and slides it back inside me as his tongue resumes its mission.
‘How close are you?’ he mumbles.
‘Close—I’m there. I’m there,’ I gabble, and he takes pity on me. He turns the vibrator up a notch and laves me as roughly as possible with his tongue, and the sensations blur into one heavenly atomic bomb that detonates my entire body. My orgasm courses and courses through me, a relentless force I’m powerless against, and I ride it and ride it, my only outlets the cries of overwhelm and ecstasy that I’m incapable of stopping.
When I’m done, he slides the wand out and gives me one last, long lick that makes me shudder.
‘Just beautiful,’ he tells me. ‘And now you’re ready to be fucked.’
I can’t believe there’s more. I can’t believe that was just the warm-up act, though Rafe’s warned me several times that I may not come through penetrative sex at first.
I’m sated, and floppy, and practically delirious, but I’m still pulsing with an aching emptiness. Maybe it was the wand, but my body is demanding to be filled up.
‘Get back against the pillows.’ Rafe’s standing now, unbuttoning his shirt with the ferocity of a man on a mission. He tugs it off and undoes his belt and trousers so they sink to the floor. Next thing he’s naked and crawling towards me, pure need in the glint of his eyes and in the clench of his jaw. I scoot backwards, alarmed and turned on and genuinely understanding, finally, how it feels to be an object of prey for a man who wants to nail you to the bed.
His erection is back at full mast, its jut enormous and almost brutish. I can’t imagine how virgins over the centuries have felt upon seeing this sight on their wedding night with zero preparation. It must be terrifying, but the thought of my virginity and of Rafe’s single-minded intention to take it from me is, for once, the hottest thing I can imagine.
It’s not an obstacle right now.
It’s a gift.
For us both.
He crouches over me, caging me in with his arms. His gaze rakes over my body. I hope he likes what he sees. He frowns a little, and opens his mouth, and I’m not expecting the next word out of it.
‘Baby.’
I look up at him dumbly.
‘Belle.’ He braces on one hand as the other slides over my collarbone. Down my arm. ‘I can’t fuck you in character, sweetheart. Not the first time. I want to fuck you, not some imaginary, hot-as-fuck hooker.’
I take in this man looming deliciously over me. Rafe is the king of role play. He’s up for anything. He owns a sex club, for God’s sake.
Yet he’s telling me he wants straight-up sex with me.
We talked about it. We agreed I might find it easier to relax, to accommodate him, if it was all part of a super-hot scene, but I feel the same as him right now. Rafe, as a sexy, predatory client, is pushing all my buttons, but I’m not sure I can do transactional when I’m about to let his baby maker inside my body.
He knows me well enough by now to see my need to be defiled and adored all at once.
‘I want you,’ I tell him. ‘No one else.’
He lowers himself down onto his elbows and kisses me. It’s slow. Deep. Lazy. ‘You make a fucking amazing hooker, though,’ he growls into my mouth. ‘Not sure where my sweet little convent girl got to tonight.’
I giggle in delight and wrap my legs around his waist. I still have these bloody heels on. ‘You made it easy,’ I tell him. ‘You were so bossy and yummy. All I had to do was say yes, sir.’
His eyes darken. ‘And you did that so beautifully.’
‘If I’m not a hooker anymore, can I take my shoes off?’
He blinks and looks around. ‘Shit, yeah. Obviously. Let me.’
And with that, he’s getting to his knees and gently unbuckling the tiny, fiddly buckles on my shoes. I wiggle my toes in pleasure, then stop when I see the expression in his eyes.
‘Arms above your head, gorgeous.’
‘Yes, sir,’ I whisper, my mouth twisting in amusement, and he shakes his head at me. Then he’s prowling back over me, reaching across to the bedside unit for a condom from the bowlful, and ripping the foil off with his teeth.