He pulls out while I place my phone on the bed in front of me. There’s some rustling as he fishes his phone out of wherever it is.
A few seconds later, I pick up his video call.
The image of his hard cock spayed across one of my ass cheeks makes me groan.
“Watch,” Rafaele growls as he wraps his hand around his length and presses the head against my hole. Slowly, so fucking slowly, he enters me, and it’s all I can do not to come right then and there.
“Oh God,” I moan as he fills me right to the hilt.
He holds the camera slightly above, giving me a full view of my ass and back. And then he starts to pump.
Watching him fuck me on video is like having sex on steroids. My body tingles everywhere, and all traces of my earlier discomfort disappear. Now, it just feels good. Really fucking good.
Rafe smacks my ass again, his groans growing louder.
“I’m close,” he grunts. “You’re gonna come for me one more time, tesoro. You’ve earned it.”
He reaches around and presses his long fingers against my clit before giving it a flick.
That’s all it takes for me to explode. I writhe against him as my orgasm wreaks havoc inside my body, struggling to keep my unfocused gaze on the screen.
His camera work gets sloppier as he fucks me harder and harder. I can tell he’s losing control.
“Fuck, Cleo. Fuck.”
At the last second, he pulls out, and I watch him come in long spurts all over my ass and back. He ends the call and throws his phone on the ground.
I moan and splay out on the bed. He collapses beside me, cheeks red, forehead sweaty, and lips parted as he takes deep gulps of air. I’m utterly breathless. Boneless. Buzzing.
Somehow, Rafe manages to get up a short while later. He returns, and I feel something warm and wet drag over my skin. He wipes me down and presses a kiss to my right butt cheek. I peer over my shoulder at him, and he’s giving me a reverent look.
“Jesus, Cleo. That was…” He clears his throat, seemingly at a loss.
Satisfaction flickers inside of me. “I know.” I turn onto my back and pull him down beside me.
Soon enough, sleep tugs on my mind. Why not take a nap? I press up against Rafe and let out a happy sigh.
This is good. This is easy. This is all you need from him.
But as I drift off, that tendril of longing for something more flutters deep inside my chest.
CHAPTER 32
RAFAELE
I huff as I deadlift a barbell off the ground. My muscles ache, and my body’s just about ready to be done with this workout. I usually get my exercise at the boxing gym with Nero whenever time allows, but I woke up this morning feeling restless, so now here I am, down at the home gym doing rep after agonizing rep. I’m pushing myself even though I know I’ll regret it tomorrow when I’m sore all over.
Right now, this is good. The intensity, the pain, and the effort are all ideal distractions from the fact that I’m worked up over a dream.
A fucking dream.
What am I, five?
I drop the weight with a loud thud. Good thing I built this place in the basement, so I don’t have to worry about anyone hearing me. The house is designed for maximal privacy, especially down here. There are three separate sections to the basement, with three different access points. One leads down to the gym and steam room, the other to the cigar room with the jewelry vault, and the third to my torture room.
I haven’t used the last one since my wedding to Cleo. It doesn’t feel right to bring that aspect of my work home anymore. It’s not that the torture room isn’t secure—no one’s ever managed to escape from it—but why take a risk I don’t need to take? I’ve got plenty of other places to take people. And if anything happened to Cleo because I brought someone dangerous to our house…
I close my eyes.
“Rafe! Help me!”
I’m in Midtown, eating a hot dog, when I hear her voice. I whip around, trying to find her, but it’s impossible to spot her in the dense lunchtime crowd.
“Rafe! I’m right here!”
My heart jumps into my throat when I finally see her. Cleo is crying, a gun pressed to her head. A man in a black hoodie, the hood obscuring his face, is holding her. I sprint toward her, but no matter how fast I run, I don’t get any closer. The hooded man pulls her farther and farther away. Frustration and fear hammer inside my chest.
“Cleo!”
And then I can’t see her anymore. She’s gone. All I can hear is her voice, her begging, her crying. And then a gunshot slices through the air.
My eyes snap wide.
Fuck. Why am I replaying the dream again? It’s bad enough that I woke up gasping, my hands searching for my wife. The moment I touched her, my body shook with bone-deep relief. And it felt like all the progress I’d made over the past few weeks had been erased.
Our relationship had just started to fit into acceptable boundaries. I’d stuck to my plan when it came to her, focusing on the physical aspect of our relationship and living practically every night between her legs.
I haven’t slept much, but I’ve fucked every hole and licked every inch of that magnificent body, enough to have it all memorized in clear detail.
My desire for her hasn’t waned, but I’m learning how to handle the lust. I do my best to forget about it during the day and indulge in the night. With a few exceptions—days when I want her so badly that I skip work despite my best intentions—I was succeeding. My head was clearing. I’ve been able to stay focused on my work.
The Garzolos moving under my command have served as a convenient reminder why I need to stay detached from everyone, including my wife. Not all Garzolo’s old capos are happy with me coming in as their new boss, and they’re sniffing around for weak spots, trying to figure out how they can get leverage on me. I’ve spent my life trying to make sure that leverage doesn’t exist.
There’s nothing I’m not willing to lose to protect my rule. But in that dream, losing her felt worse than anything in the entire world.
I exhale a heavy breath.
It was a fucking dream. I don’t need to get this worked up over it.
I grab a towel and turn toward the shower just as the door to the gym opens and Cleo walks in. My gaze sweeps over her. Her copper hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail. She’s dressed in a blouse and a pair of jeans, ready to go out. Her eyes spark as she takes in my sweaty, shirtless form.
“What are you doing here, tesoro?” I ask, tossing the towel over my shoulder.
She bites her lip, her gaze flickering from my abs to the barbell on the floor. “I didn’t even know this was down here. You’ve got an indoor pool tucked away somewhere as well?”
“No, but that could be arranged.”
A smile tugs on her lips. She walks up to me and drags her nails lightly over my bare abs, sending a shiver through my body. “You know, Gem’s spent years trying to convince me to go to the gym, but this view might be what finally does it.”