As if he knows, his thigh presses between mine, giving me something to grind against. The friction against my aching core makes me cry out against his mouth.
“That's it,” he growls. “Take what you need, little dove.”
Ishouldn't. But my hips have a mind of their own, rolling against his thigh, chasing the pleasure building low in my belly. His hands grip my ass, guiding my movements, controlling the pace until I'm trembling and panting and barely able to stand.
“So responsive.” He pulls back to watch me, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “So desperate for someone to touch you properly.”
“Rafael—” His name is a moan on my lips.
“Iknow.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and the tenderness of it nearly undoes me. “But not here. Not like this. You deserve so much better.”
But he doesn’t stop.
His grip becomes possessive. He moves me faster. I relinquish all control and let him help me find my end. I ride the mafia king’s thigh and when my climax hits, his lips find mine. He consumes my cries of pleasure as the waves of heat thrash against my insides. Everything clenches with need to feel more than a quick release.
“Rafael…” I beg again, though I don’t know what I’m asking for exactly. I just need more.
He slowly steps back, and I nearly collapse without his body to hold me up. He catches my hand, steadying me.
“Not like this,” he says again and my heart breaks.
“Until we meet again, little dove.” His eyes hold mine, dark and promising. “And we will meet again. That much I can promise you.”
A strong tatted-up finger strokes the edge of my cheek. I know this man is the very definition of off limits, but he makes it hard not to throw myself at him and just take him up on the offer I see dancing behind those beautiful dark eyes.
I gulp in air to keep from blurting out an offer of a one-night stand.
A corner of his lip tilts up reading my nervousness due to my lack of confidence and I make no move to explain the truthbehind my trembling fingers when he reaches for my other hand. I slip my palm over his. I watch in the dim light as this complete stranger places a warm kiss on each of my knuckles.
Releasing me, he pulls a red rose from a nearby vase and places it gently in my hand.
“To remember this evening by, little dove.”
With that, he’s gone, disappearing through the red door as silently as he appeared, leaving nothing behind but the lingering warmth of his scent, the feel of his lips on my skin, and a new kind of ache in my chest.
“It’s not the rose I’m going to remember.” I mumble to myself.
I press my hand to my heart, willing it to slow, and realize with startling clarity that for one brief moment that I forgot about Magnus Sterling entirely.
I forgot about everything except the dark promise in Rafael’s eyes.
A promise that felt like the beginning of something I don’t have a name for yet.
Desire. Want. Lust.
Those three feel fitting yet superficial.
I draw in a shaky breath and glance back at the wish box, wondering what will happen next.
Because that man didn’t feel like simply a coincidence.
He felt like a wish come true, but I can only hope fate is not playing with my heart.
Five
Rafael
Fifteen minutes ago, I was sitting in my office ready to throw every last red envelope in the trash and call it a night.
