Page 61 of In Love and Revenge

The muffled words come from inside the dressing area. A crack of light spills out from beneath the wood.

‘Fuucckk.’ Another drawn-out groan rumbles from behind the door.

Oh my God. There’s no mistaking it’s Rafael. He sounds like he’s in pain. What if he’s slipped in the bathroom and hit his head? It’s earlier than he usually arrives. What if he’s been in there all night, waiting for someone to find him?

I can’t stand the man, but I don’t wish him to meet a grisly end on his bathroom floor alone, either.

My heart flies to my throat as I rush to the partially closed door and ease it open carefully in case he’s lying behind it. I get it far enough to poke my head through before I look inside.

He’s not on the floor. Or inside the walk-in wardrobe area.

But the inner door to the bathroom is wide open.

I freeze.

Rafael’s standing stark-bollock naked in front of the marble basin, one hand gripping the edge of the counter like he’s about to rip it off the wall. And the other ...

... the other is furiously working his dick.

‘Bloody hell,’ he hisses like he’s angry.

I suck in a gasp. The solid, carved muscles that are usually concealed beneath his suit fill my eyes.

I can’t look away.

He’s huge, and solid, and ... soobnoxiouslyhandsome.

He’s an arsehole.

A hot, sexy arsehole who’s masturbating with such vigour that it’s as if his life depends upon it.

His bicep bulges as he tightens his grip on his dick, adding his hips into the fray, and thrusting into his palm with determined jerks. His ass cheeks clench, two solid globes of marble as he fists his dick so fast and hard that it looks painful.

‘Just once,’ he groans. ‘I need to be inside you.Just. Once.’

I can’t breathe, let alone move. He’s no more than a few metres away. Close enough that the wet sounds coming from his dick as he attacks it curl through the air like they’re coaxing me closer. Inviting me to watch.

He curses and swipes his phone, turning the volume up on what he’s watching, then props it against the mirror over the basin.

My mouth goes dry, and I squeeze my thighs together, hating that my panties are damp.

I don’t even like him. I certainly don’t want to watch him get himself off to porn.

But I can’t deny he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. My head might hate him, but my body’s not immune to the sight.

Everything about Rafael Fairfax is so ...virile. From his thick, rich brown hair, to the sharp jaw he’s currently clenching as he breathes out in a jagged hiss. To his giant shoulders, and the smattering of dark, silky hair decorating his pecs. Even his torso is thick. He’s pure muscle. I’d ache if I had to wrap my legs around his waist.

Not that I’d ever want to. Not in a million years.

He grunts, his biteable arse tensing as a female voice flits out from his phone.

‘The sweetheart neckline on this is so pretty. And if you look closely, it’s got this beautiful, embroidered detailing.’

That sounds like . . .

Bile rushes up my windpipe and blood rushes in my ears. I stare at his phone, trying to focus on the screen. It’s too far to see properly, but the moment she speaks again, I suck back a gasp.

That’smyvoice.