Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3)

chest, down his sides, and with as much forthright honesty as I can manage, I tell him, “I know emotions ran high yesterday. I won’t deny I was disappointed. I wanted you to take a chance on me, I wanted to see what could develop between us. I wanted you, period. But I’m not another problem for you to handle, Rafe. All I wanted was the chance to be what you needed. To ease your ache. Not to confine you. Not to pressure you. Not to get anything from you. I wanted to be what you needed, and for a few days, I was. Maybe that’s all it was supposed to be. It was just a really long moment, and now it’s over. Nothing has to be weird; nothing between us has to change. I have always wanted to satisfy your needs. Normally it’s just a refill, but over Christmas, you needed a safe body to come inside. You thanked me plenty in the form of orgasms.” Withdrawing my hands from his jacket, I offer a little smile. “We’re good.”

He stares at me for a moment, then his eyes narrow like he’s trying to puzzle me out. He’s making it too complicated. He’s so used to a certain kind of woman, and he has absolutely no idea what to do with me. Drama-free and uncomplicatedly honest? No way, that’s not a thing that exists. I can’t help cracking a smile.

He pounces on it. “What?”

I shake my head, smiling at him fondly. “You’re cute when you’re confused.”

His eyebrows jump, but a glint of humor enters his eyes. “You like confusing me, huh?”

“I’m not doing anything to confuse you. I’m just being a normal person. A nice person. The kind of person who could never have her own reality show. So, you know, not your type.”

“I love nice women,” he states. “That’s completely wrong.”

“Great, then accept that I only wanted to be a good experience for you and let’s get on with our lives.” Moving past him and into the small kitchen, I grab the envelopes and try to hand them back. “Here. I don’t want this.”

He ignores the envelopes, holding my gaze instead. “Things won’t be weird? Your feelings won’t be hurt if I bring women to the restaurant after what happened between us?”

My stomach drops a couple levels, but that’s to be expected. Of course it would be nice if I didn’t have to watch him with the parade of booth girls he will go on to fuck, but that’s not realistic, not with him. I’m confident that I could give him everything he needs, because I want it more than any of these fly-by-night women he brings around. He means so much more to me than he means to them, but it doesn’t matter. I know Rafe likes me, I know he’s attracted to me, I even know on some level he wants me, but he doesn’t want a committed relationship with me.

That’s fine. My position in his life is more permanent than theirs. If the green-eyed monster tries to rear her ugly head next time I have to listen to some pretty ditz tap her too-long, lacquered nail against the drink list, knowing she’s the one who will warm his bed that night, that is exactly what I will tell myself—no matter how sick it makes me.

My face feels stiff, like it’s rebelling against the words I’m about to speak, but I manage to get them out. “Do whatever makes you happy, Rafe. I’ll be fine.”

Without speaking, he stands there and stares at me. It begins with distrust. I try not to take it personally, knowing that his parade of bad decisions has trained him that once he sticks his dick inside a woman, there’s a good chance she is not to be trusted. I know that’s why it’s there, because I haven’t given him a reason to look at me that way.

After a moment, he reminds himself that. It dissipates, and he looks at me like he always has. Like a friend. Like an equal. Like one of the few people he lets down his guard around, and it softens my insides up. I can’t keep my affection for him out of my eyes, off my face. I’ve never been able to. I assumed he liked the ego stroke when he first started playfully flirting with me at the restaurant. Subtle stuff. The first time his hand lightly brushed mine, it was like electricity shooting through my whole body. I forgot how to speak. I replay one of those memories, and the same fond feelings come rushing back.

I’ve learned how to function around him over the years, but God, when those intense brown eyes of his bore into you with that look of invitation… it’s the most seductive thing in the world.

Rafe grabs the envelopes and tosses them aside, grabbing a fistful of my shirt instead. My eyes widen in confusion as he rotates me backward, then walks me back against the wall.

“What… what are you doing?” I ask, hesitantly.

“I don’t know,” he answers, honestly.

My heart accelerates when I hear his other hand unzip his pants. My gaze darts to his, too confused to keep up. He was just telling me it was over, and he didn’t want things to be weird, and he was going to bring other women around, and I needed to be prepared for it—

He cuts off my mental review when he releases my shirt, grabs a fistful of my hair, and shoves me down. I drop to my knees, inhaling sharply, and open my mouth just in time for him to ram his cock into my mouth.

Arousal thrums through my body, blood rushing through my veins, a sudden throbbing between my legs. He holds my head in place with one hand, petting me with the other before letting his hand slide around the back of my head. He holds on while he pumps his cock into my mouth. I gag, but he holds me there until tears spring to my eyes and slide down my cheeks. I grab onto his hip, needing to breathe.

Rafe pulls my head back, off his dick. I take a gasping breath as he asks, “You all right?”

I nod my head, swiping at the moisture under my eyes.

“Again,” he says, the only warning I get before his hands tighten in my hair again and he pushes himself back into my mouth.

Planting one hand on his hip, I grasp the base of his cock with the other and work my mouth over him. He’s much larger than I’ve ever sucked before, and like before, I’m not able to take all of him. On Christmas, he accepted that, but today Rafe rejects that limitation. He shoves his cock to the back of my throat, choking me again. I take it for as long as I can, then I squeeze his hip and he lets up.

That time he releases my hair altogether and I sit back on my heels, looking up at him.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, gazing down at me.

It’s hard when he looks at me like that. I don’t know what to make of it, in light of the conversations we had last night and today. This is the most confusing non-break-up I’ve ever experienced.

I clear my throat, looking at his cock. It’s still hard, now wet from my saliva. Whatever is going on between us, I don’t want to leave him like that, so I grasp him again, stroking his long length before bending to take as much of him as I can into my mouth. Rafe’s fingers move through my hair, and I can feel the tenderness. He pushes me back against the wall and pins me there, but still supports the back of my head so it doesn’t hit the wall. I start to panic as he pushes his length into my throat. I choke on him again and he keeps pushing. He pulls back, then pistons his hips forward again.

Oh, fuck. It’s hard and it’s rough, but the dominance is hot. In a sense, it feels so uncomfortable, but in another sense… fuck, it feels good. It feels good to be invaded like this by him. He gives me no break now, driving his cock violently into my throat over and over again. I’ve gotten no better at it, but he’s stopped caring. Just like last night, he drives into me like a man possessed. Like all that matters is using my body to get himself off, and God, that’s hot, too.