Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3)

Oh, fuck.

I open my mouth and try to find words, but words fail me. My brain has enough sense to tell my legs to move, but since he’s advancing on me, I naturally back up, and all I end up doing is backing myself against a wall.

“Rafe—”

His voice is short, clipped as he says simply, “No.”

I snap my mouth shut, but I’m not sure why. He can’t overrule my objection. I swallow and clutch my towel tighter to my heaving chest, but I can’t convince my legs to move another inch. I remain plastered against his wall like I’m waiting for him, even though all I want to do is run.

12

Rafe

She is fucked now, and she knows it.

It’s her own goddamned fault, too. I thought I heard her call out for me, I thought she needed to know where something was, then I open the fucking door and see her touching herself in my shower.

“I don’t think—” she begins to stammer.

I’m in spitting distance now, so she’s done for. I use one hand to cover her mouth and stop her bullshit objections, the other to take care of the towel. Her brown eyes widen and her death grip tightens when I slip my fingers inside the soft cloth, against her skin.

“Let go of the goddamned towel, Virginia.”

She shakes her head vehemently.

She has the cutest fucking dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. I don’t know why I never noticed that before. I feel positively feral as my gaze rakes over her face, as this damned woman denies me again for no good reason.

It’s bullshit, that’s what it is.

I shake my head at her pointless resistance, then snatch the edge of the towel out of her grasp and yank it open.

Virginia pushes my hand away from her mouth and grabs for the towel, but I whip it away and toss it as far as I can.

“Rafe!” Her brown eyes burn with anger and her hands fly up to cover her breasts as she does her best to glare holes into me.

“I’m going to fuck you,” I tell her, simply. “You’re going to like it.”

“We agreed that there would be no sex. We both agreed to that.”

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, our plans have changed,” I inform her.

Her eyes narrow with renewed anger. “You had no right to open that door. You invaded my privacy.”

“I’m going to invade much more than that,” I inform her, done with this conversation. Since she’s still playing at modesty and my cock is ready to go exploring, I grab her, lift her, and drag her over to my bed.

“Oh, my God,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “This is not happening.”

I let her slide down the front of my body when I get her to my bed. Then, since I assume she won’t climb on herself, I toss her on my bed.

She can’t skitter away and cover herself at the same time, so she gives up hiding her body and skitters away from me. I’m sure she’s about to run that pretty little mouth again, so I don’t give her time. I shuck my sleep pants and watch as all the words on her tongue die a swift, painful death. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops open at the sight of my cock, fully aroused, and right where she can’t help looking.

“Oh, shit,” she mutters.

I smirk, then I climb on the bed with her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, pussies stretch.”

Eyeing me even more warily as she crawls backward, she says, “Rafe, wait. We can’t. We really, really can’t. There are like a million reasons—”

“I accept none of them. You want me, I want you, this is happening.”