She glared at him as she pressed further against the table. “You’d discipline me for caring? For wanting to understand why your daughter feels so lost? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’ve told you enough. You don’t get to dig into my life, Camelia. Pamela is my responsibility, and you’ll follow the rules or face the consequences.”
She shivered but didn’t look away.
“You don’t scare me,” she whispered shakily.
Raph closed the distance between them and tangled his hand in her hair. She let out a short gasp, but he kept his grip firm as he tugged, exposing her graceful neck to him.
Camelia’s hairpins clattered to the kitchen floor. Her lips parted and trembled. Her body felt hot against his as he leaned in close until his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
“You’re not afraid of me, Duchess?” His voice was a low growl, dripping with dominance.
Camelia whimpered, her hands gripping the table’s edge as her body pressed against his.
“Answer me,” he demanded. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling just enough to make her arch into him.
“Y-Yes! I’m not afraid of you.” Her voice was thick with desire, and her legs quivered. Raph felt her pulse race under his touch.
“Yeswhat?” he growled and grazed her earlobe with his lips. He nipped at it lightly, sending a jolt through her.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she moaned.
Raph noticed how she pressed her thighs together.
“Yes, little flower. Crave me as I crave you.”
“Raph!” She closed her eyes.
“Look at me.” He backed away from her, seeing his hunger reflected in her eyes. “You have no idea what you’ve stirredinside me, Duchess. That defiance, that disobedience, is what makes me want to make you mine in ways you can’t imagine. Do you feel it? How much I want to claim every inch of you right here.”
He pressed himself against her so she felt his hard manhood. Her breathing grew ragged, and her body shivered with need.
“What are you going to do, Raph?” she whispered, challenging him even now. “Are you going to punish me and make me beg? Because I’m not sure I can stop pushing you.”
He chuckled—a low, dangerous sound—as his hand slid from her hair to her neck, his thumb tracing her fluttering pulse.
“Oh, you’ll beg, little flower,” he murmured. His lips hovered over hers, so close that he could taste her breath. “You’ve crossed every line, and now you’ll learn what happens when you defy your husband. Shall I bind you? Strip you bare and make you scream my name until you forget your own?”
Her knees weakened at his words, and he smirked.
“It’s time to make you mine.”
“Raph, please.” Her voice was raw with need.
Raph’s eyes darkened in response, a wicked glint sparking as he pressed himself closer. His body was hard against her softness, and the table creaked under their weight.
“I enjoy it immensely when you beg me,” he purred.
He slid his hand down to grip her hip, pulling her flush against him.
“I’ll have you begging for more once I’m done with you, and you’ll love every second of it. Tell me, how badly do you want me to take you right now?”
She instinctively arched into him.
“So badly,” she whispered, her voice broken with desire.
He let go of her and stepped back. His silence was a heavy storm as desire seethed through him, thick and potent. Camelia looked disappointed at his sudden distance.
