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Our Little Secret

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He combs his hands through the hair at the base of my neck and my skin zings beneath his touch. How is it possible that a simple caress can make me feel this alive head to toe?

‘I intend to make sure that this one time...’ his fingers massage into my scalp, stroking, soothing, hypnotising, as his eyes fixed on mine work the same magic ‘...is something you remember long after we part.’

I shiver with his promise, with the knowledge that I know he can deliver on it, but there’s the persistent voice at the back of my mind, the responsible one. ‘We don’t have long; we need to get out there and deal with your mother.’

‘My mother...’ his eyes flash ‘...will be in her room, having ordered a breakfast she will hardly eat, making up for it with champagne and taking several hours to put on her face. She will not bother Dani any further for now.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I know her.’ He kisses me deep. ‘And now I want no more talk of her. Agreed?’

‘Agreed.’

‘Eyes closed, cara, just feel...concentrate on my touch.’

I dutifully do as he asks.

‘Bene,’ he whispers, close, so close I can feel his breath sweep against my cheek, his fingers light and soft as they trail tantalisingly down my sides.

I suck in my stomach, try to contain the wild flutters taking off inside. Everything is so much more like this. Blind. Unexpected.

His fingers splay out, his palms smoothing down, beneath the waistband of my thong as he takes it with him, leaving it caught around my ankles.

‘I want to taste you.’ His breath sweeps over the wet curls between my legs and I shiver with the delicious little ripple that runs through me. He’s there. Right, there! And I claw the wall, wait for that first touch, his mouth, his tongue...but he rises, his fierce kiss cutting off the frustrated whimper I can’t contain.

‘Your mouth tastes of heaven, but your pussy...’ he murmurs, his hands cupping my jaw. ‘That will be the true feast.’

I bite into my lip, arch back as he takes his time to travel down once more, licking and nipping at my flesh. He rolls his thumb and forefinger over one nipple and I tremble. His mouth surrounds the other and he sucks it in deep. The combined onslaught making me moan, my body writhe.

‘Part your legs for me, cara.’

I do as he says, pulling my thong taut against my ankles.

‘Bene.’

I know I’m spread open to him, that he can see it all, and I can hear the passion in his voice, the way my surrender makes him feel. His tongue scoops inside my seam and parts me, flicking over my hammering clit, and I buck, my cry loud, desperate.

He does it again and again, surrounding me with his mouth, and he sucks back hard.

‘Molto bene.’

Tasty. He thinks I’m tasty. I fling my hands out, bury them in his hair. He has me going out of my mind. Never have I been so devoured, so thoroughly tongued and ravished. Never have I felt so desired.

He separates my folds with his fingers and I feel his eyes burning into my clit. I want to see; I need to see. I drop my head forward and open my eyes to watch him dip to my exposed clit, and softly—oh, so softly—his tongue circles over me. The colour streaking his cheeks tells me how much he’s into this too, how much he wants me in return.

‘Rafael...’

It’s a groan, a plea. His eyes flick to mine and the fire, the hunger, sucks away my ability to breathe. He leans back in, surrounding me ane

w, his appreciative growl rumbling over the clustered nerve-endings and my entire body quivers. I’m going to come. I’m really going to come. But I don’t want to. Not yet.

I want to draw this out. I want to prolong the pleasure, the illicit heat that’s whipping through me. I just need to hold onto it. Keep it there...

I run my hands through his hair and watch as his long, lithe fingers part me to the fierce work of his mouth, his tongue. I feel suffocated by the fight to contain it, the pleasure-filled explosion that I’m on the cusp of experiencing.

I try to drag him up, to tell him with my actions that I want him inside me, and he shakes his head.

‘No, cara, you will come for me like this.’



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