8. Underwater Excursions - Alex
I was thankful for the summer heat. Despite the warm weather outside, goosebumps arose on my skin, compliments of my lack of clothing.
This felt wrong, being naked while Rafe worked at my side, clothed in gym shorts, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to argue with him. My nipples throbbed from the clothespins, but every so often I caught him staring at them, his eyes dark with want, and the answering twinge between my thighs reminded me that I needed to be on my best behavior.
If he didn’t fuck me into the next century soon, I might die.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he said, a knowing smile curving his mouth.
God, yes.
“Thinking about what?” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth because I knew it drove him nuts.
“You don’t do coy very well.” He moved behind me and settled his hands over mine as I grated cheese for the omelets he planned to cook. “Look at you,” he whispered, his lips teasing my neck, “being all domestic…and naked. The naked part is by far my favorite.”
“Rafe…” I sighed, and the block of cheese dropped to the counter, followed by the metal grater. He flicked the clothespins, and I let out a desperate groan.
“What will you give me in return for an orgasm?”
“Anything.”
“That’s a dangerous answer.” He lowered a hand and cupped my pussy. “How about a blow job?”
“A blow job?” I arched a brow because I sucked him off all the time. That wasn’t my idea of a difficult task.
“Fuck yeah, Alex. I want you to suck me off…in the tub.”
And there it was.
I stilled in his arms, but my heartbeat had other ideas. It accelerated to match the speed of a Bugatti. “Anything but that,” I pleaded, shaking my head.
“I don’t want anything else. I brought you here to confront fears. The tub’s one of them.”
“No! I-I can’t.” I pushed against the cage of his embrace, and he responded by banding an arm across my chest, his fingers clamping around my shoulder. He gripped me by the neck, and the heady smell of myself on his fingers drifted to my nose.
“We haven’t bathed properly in weeks. Let’s take a bath and put your mouth to good use.”
He wasn’t going to back down. Panic rose in my throat. He’d force me into the tub kicking and screaming. As if reading my thoughts, Rafe twirled me to face him then hefted me over his shoulder. The unchopped veggies, ham, and cheese were forgotten on the counter as he stalked toward the private bathroom off our bedroom.
“Please, Rafe! Don’t do this.”
He entered the bathroom, and the door slammed shut behind us. He lowered me to my feet before cradling my face between hands that issued as much pain as they did pleasure. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then prove it.” He plucked a clothespin from my nipple, making me yelp, and used it to clamp my nostrils closed. “Suck me off under the water.”
This was the side of him that terrified me—the unchecked darkness that ruled his actions. The part of him that bulldozed over my defenses, annihilating my limits as if they never existed in the first place.
Between parted lips, I breathed fast and shallow. “I’m scared,” I said, cringing at the nasally tone of my voice due to the clothespin on my nose.
He placed a finger against my lips. “This mouth isn’t made for talking right now. It’s made for sucking. Turn around.”
I pivoted as he opened and shut a drawer, then the sensation of cool metal circled my wrists. Other means of restraints gave the illusion of the possibility for escape, but not handcuffs.
He removed the remaining makeshift clamp from my nipple, and the rush of blood radiated pain. I ground my teeth together as he switched on the faucet in the tub.
I wanted to run.
This was too much like the time on the island, when I had run, but he’d forced me into the tub anyway. He’d tortured the truth out of me.
Now he was forcing me to face my fears using the same method, as if submerging me in water would wash away my lack of trust in him. Because it was there, burrowing underneath all the things I did trust him with.
My body, my well-being, my safety.
But not my heart.
I’d given it to him freely, but my nightmares proved I was scared he’d disappear with it, leaving the type of gaping hole in my soul he’d carved out the first time he left.
Not just left…pretended to be dead.
My anger over that never ceased to fester. It was a beast inside me I couldn’t dispel.
The water shut off, and Rafe dropped his shorts. “Get in. We’ll start slow, I promise.”
I lifted a leg and set one foot in the tub. Seconds ticked by as our eyes met. I found madness and lust and determination in his green orbs.
Rafe had beautiful eyes. For all the darkness that corrupted him, he was beautiful through and through. As I stepped fully into the tub, I lowered my gaze to his ink.
How many times had I traced those black tribal lines with my fingers? Explored them with nothing more than the tip of my tongue, the salt of his skin a treat on my tastebuds? And Jesus, his cock. It stood proud, the tip jutting toward me, as if already seeking the warmth of my mouth.
Rafe nodded toward the slanted end of the tub. “Lie down.”
I dipped into the warm water, and only after I reclined did I realize how vulnerable the position left me. The tub was enormous, my toes barely touching the other end, and with my hands restrained at the small of my back, mobility was limited. I squirmed, shimmied, even balanced my spine on my fists, but one wrong move would send me under the water.
He reached over the rim and filled my pussy with two thick fingers. A deep moan rumbled from my throat, ushering me into surrender as I bowed my spine.
“Don’t stop,” I whimpered.
“I’m going to fuck you with my fingers, and you’re going to stop yourself from coming. You can do that for me, right baby?”
Unable to find my voice, I nodded, though I would have agreed to anything he said in that moment. He thrust his fingers in and out several times, pushing me to the edge of orgasm.
“Oh God. I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.” His voice was calm. Assuring. As he kept up the steady cadence of his finger-fucking, I thrashed my head back and forth, breathing noisily through my mouth.
Concentrating on not coming.
Impossible. He was trying to kill me, and he hadn’t even shoved me under the water yet.
He reached for a bar of soap and slid it down the valley of my breasts, maddeningly slow. Next, he circled my aching nipples, leaving a trail of suds that he washed away with warm water only seconds later.
“I’m gonna come,” I panted.
“No, you’re not.” Withdrawing his fingers, he stood and entered the tub with a splash, and my heartbeat took off in a gallop as he straddled my chest, his muscled thighs surrounding my shoulders. He lifted long enough to reach behind him and grab my thigh, tugging me down a couple of inches until water enclosed me up to my ears.
“Rafe!” Panic seized my voice, and I gazed up at him with tears in my eyes as I kicked against the other end of the tub to no avail. His weight on my chest kept me from gaining an inch of leverage.
He brought his index finger to my lips. “What did I say about this mouth?”
I clamped my lips shut for several seconds, until the need for air burned my lungs, and I opened wide, greedy for air.
And that’s when he pushed his cock into my mouth, his warm, smooth shaft heavy on my tongue.
“Blink three times when you need air.”
Each beat of my heart counted the seconds. Our eyes locked and held. He didn’t move, and I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t even breathe.
The need for air became too great. I blinked frantically, prompting him to pull out.
“Forty seconds at a time, babe. You ready?”
“No.” I swallowed hard, pleading with a desperate glance. “Don’t pull me under. Rafe, I’m begging you.”
“You know what begging does to me.” He positioned the head of his cock at my lips. “Take a deep breath.”
I did, gulping in air as if it were my last breath, and he shoved inside. As I fastened my lips around his erection, he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me under.