“Good.”
He pushes in a bit deeper. He’s too big. I can’t breathe. A shaky whimper leaves me. I cling to him with all my strength, my eyes piercing his.
“I don’t do slow, vespetta. But for you, I’ll try.”
Another inch. Having him inside me feels intrinsic. Intense. I’ve never had sex in the water, and the sensation is incomparable to anything I’ve experienced before. Or maybe it’s just him. His finger is still stroking my flesh, that spot between my core and the nerve-rich center of my ass, applying constant pressure. That touch alone nearly pushes me over the brink. And his dick isn’t even halfway in me.
Somehow, he’s still gripping the ladder with his left hand. Without breaking our eye contact, I grab his trunk-like biceps and tighten my legs around his waist. Taking more of him inside. My entire body trembles as he slowly fills me up. More. And more. Both of us panting. With just the sun overhead and the tranquil sea around us, we’re in our own wild world.
If it was anyone else floating in these waters with me, I’d long ago have been in a full-blown panic, cast to the coldest depths. But, it seems my mind completely believes that Rafael De Santi truly is the biggest threat in this blue vastness. And all I can feel is him. Just when I think I can’t take any more, my walls stretch further. My body adjusts to his size.
When he seems to finally be completely within me, I can barely draw a full breath. The teeniest movement from him will probably make me shatter. But Rafael holds utterly still.
“Tell me . . . Did you really jump in the water because you thought something happened to me?”
Air leaves my lungs in shallow bursts as I search his green orbs. His left iris is a shade lighter than the right one. I never noticed that before.
“Did you?” he insists and, unbelievably, pushes deeper.
I almost come.
Sliding my palm up his neck, I grip the dark wet strands and squeeze. Rafael’s cock twitches inside me. His body is so taut, every muscle straining. My God, he is beautiful like this.
“Yes.” I tilt my chin, nipping his lower lip. “How would I have gotten back to the mansion if you drowned?”
Another growl leaves his mouth, rough and feral. He retreats, then slams into me with such force that my mind totally blanks. His mouth captures mine again. Biting. Taking. My core trembles with a sensation of pleasure bordering on pain while he pounds me with fast, deep thrusts. His hand grips my ass, holding me steady, while wrecking me in the most visceral way. There isn’t a drop left of his previous self-control, as if my blatant lie has unleashed the beast.
“Mine,” he growls, biting my lower lip. “From the moment you swung that broken bottle at me, I knew you’d be mine.”
“I’m not yours,” I choke out, fighting for breath while kissing him back.
He trails his lips along my chin, then buries his face in the crook of my neck. “You smell like me.” His teeth graze the sensitive skin below my ear. “Taste like a mouthwatering dessert, custom-created to satiate every craving impulse of my DNA alone. Your flavor drives me crazy.”
Rafael slides out, then impales me with his cock again.
“Your sweet pussy trembles so beautifully with my dick inside you, asking for more. Do you want more, Vasilisa?”
“Yes . . .”
A deep, powerful thrust of his hips makes the water around us ripple. My trembling hands slip off his wet, rock-hard shoulders from the vibrations of that impact. I hook my arm around his neck and meet his feral stare. You are mine, it says. Just as his words did. Just like the telling warmth in my belly that’s threatening to consume me wholly. Just like my treacherous heart that’s yearning to reply, I’m yours. Like this is where I’ve always meant to be.
Dear God, I’m in love with him. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I’ve had these feelings for quite some time. Was it the sticky notes that did me in? Or those stolen figs he keeps leaving for me? No, I don’t think it was any single act. It’s the way he makes me feel every day—like I have finally found myself.
Rafael is pounding relentlessly into me again. A scream builds in my chest, wanting to be let out. I grit my teeth as hard as I can to keep it from escaping. Too afraid to confess the ecstasy I feel, even with mere lust-filled vocals. Wave after wave of pleasure surges over me, pushing me over the crest. I shakingly cling to Rafael, our gazes locked together, as I come right there, in the arms of my captor, surrounded by the glittering expanse of the warm glistening sea.
“That’s it, vespetta. I told you you’re mine.” With one final plunge, Rafael buries himself to the hilt and explodes inside me.
I close my eyes, relishing the feel of him. But also feeling guilty for enjoying the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
“Look. At. Me.” Brassy, growled words.
I shake my head. My God, what have I done?
“Now, Vasilisa.”
This man. A ruthless brute. One who threatened to kill my family. My parents. My baby brother and sister. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that he could do it, too, and more than likely, without blinking an eye. I know it. Just as I know that no other man will ever make me feel the same. The way he does. Like I’m surfing the gentlest currents, and at the same time, falling into the deepest abyss.
I can’t look at him.
I’m not ready to face the reality. To accept the irrevocable truth—that I am in love with Rafael De Santi.
A stream of fast-spoken Italian erupts from him. By the tone of his voice, curses, I’m sure. Water sloshes around me as Rafael climbs the ladder, carrying me onboard held up by only one of his arms.
“There are towels in the bathroom,” he grunts, putting me down onto something soft.
When I open my eyes, I find myself sitting on the sofa inside the salon on the main deck. Rafael stands before me, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he glares at me.
Without another word, he turns around and steps outside. A moment later, I hear his footfalls as he climbs the ladder to the flybridge, and shortly after, the yacht engines come to life.
The leather rim of the yacht’s steering wheel creaks from the force of my grip. For the past twenty minutes, I’ve barely kept a leash on my temper, barely prevented myself from storming down to the main deck—where Vasilisa has been hiding this whole time—and demanding an explanation.
The list of things I need her to explain is rather long. Starting with why the fuck did she act like a scared little guppy just moments after she so beautifully shattered in my arms. I didn’t expect cuddles, but I did fucking want her to look at me. She had no problem looking at my face before. Did having sex with me disgust her? Because of how I look? I wouldn’t be surprised if a beauty like her has only ever had pretty boys as lovers.
Red haze covers my eyes at the idea of other men who have been close enough to her to touch her. Who have touched her. I grit my teeth and squeeze the wheel harder. I’ll rip apart any man who’s ever put his hands on her in the past and any fucker who might think he has a chance to do it in the future. Vasilisa Petrova is mine. Mine! And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she wants to stay with me.
I’m steering the yacht back to the marina when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. A speedboat, anchored by the sea stack at the entrance to a cove, just up the coast from here. The Mediterranean might be in the public domain, but everyone in this part of Sicily knows that these waters are mine. So it’s either stupid tourists or my godfather’s men. No one else would be crazy enough to wander here.
