32. Chapter Thirty-Two

My brothers leave around ten. After dinner, we had a few drinks and discussed what our best options are. Elio and Marco still aren't convinced the family route is the way to go. I told them it's the way I was going, whether they agree or not. Elio had a lot to say about that because he's concerned Dario Canvani is going to lose his shit over me taking Jordan. Fucker should have raised his child with better manners and taught him how to treat a female he intends to keep. Not my problem that I do—sort of.

Eventually, Elio let it go. But only after I threatened to fire Bianca, our father's full-time nurse, myself, and make sure she was too afraid to ever set foot in the state of Arizona again. He got unnecessarily pissed about that, which leads me to believe maybe my brother is on the same path as me, but he doesn't want to admit it. That's fine. Elio has always been too proud for his own good. If he keeps it up, that woman won't want to deal with him for long anyway.

Jordan hid in her room all night. I'd sent Bernice to get her for dinner, wanting her to join me and my brothers, but she refused. I didn't want to push the subject and allowed her to eat in her room. We're finally making some headway, and I don't want to ruin it by forcing her into an uncomfortable situation. She's not used to me yet; why would she want to be around my family? Soon, it won't be an option. My brothers will be her family and vice versa. For now? I let it slide.

It's almost midnight, and instead of sleeping, I'm watching the monitors in my office. Everything in the house and around it is still and quiet. It's always quiet. Even with the extra person in the house wreaking havoc, it's so fucking quiet all the time.

Needing a distraction, I pick up my phone to text Rafael.

Me: What are you doing?

His trip was postponed, but I'm not sure why since we haven't spoken much recently, and when we do, it's hardly about anything personal.

Rafael: Nothing.

Enzo: When do you leave?

Rafael: Tomorrow afternoon

Enzo: I'll be in your room in five minutes

Rafael: I'll be waiting

A good fuck would do me good. The best way to let off some steam. Especially since I'm so frustrated with wanting to fuck Jordan but not going through with it. I should have. I wanted to. But something stopped me.

Jordan has smitten me since the first time I saw her, and she is oblivious to it. I won't gravel at her feet and explain it to her, but she'll realize it one day. She'll realize she's more than a debt paid and owed.

I wanted her, so I took her. It's that simple.

When I leave my office, I lock the door. A minor inconvenience of having Jordan here, but hopefully one day she can be trusted. I can't risk her having a tantrum and destroying important stuff that could ruin my family. Not to mention fucking with my space by dumping horrid smelling products everywhere.

I head downstairs, moving through the hallways until I reach Rafael's room in the back of the house. I walk in without knocking and find him lying on his fourposter bed in nothing but a pair of grey boxer briefs. He lowers his phone when he hears me enter, a smirk crossing his full lips. His hair is in messy-but-sexy disarray, and I ache to run my fingers through it.

"Eager? That was faster than five minutes." He smiles wider.

"Maybe." I close the door behind me and crook my finger at him. He places his phone on the end table and moves to stand in front of me.

I brush the backs of my fingers up his firm abs, bring them back down, and dip my fingertips into the waistband, dragging them side to side. His breath catches in his throat, his eyes falling shut. Rafael has a perfect body. Toned in all the right places and without having to work out constantly. I focus on his lips, the way they part as I run my hand up his side. They way they turn into a smile when I reach around to cup his ass and pull him closer to me. He's already hard, and he grinds against me. He rumbles out a moan when I drag my tongue up his throat and nip at his clean-shaven jaw. Rafael is gorgeous, but the best thing about him is how fucking submissive he is. How much he enjoys pleasing.

"Undress me."

He hums a sound of approval. "Yes, sir."

The buttons on my shirt are quickly undone. He's skilled, as he's done this many times before. He slides it off my shoulders and drapes it on the chair by the door. My undershirt is pulled off next. He undoes my pants but doesn't pull them down. I sit in the chair, and he takes my shoes off, then my socks. He stays knelt in front of me, waiting for me to stand, but I don't. I keep my gaze on him. He watches me carefully, waiting for my next move so he can determine his. I press two fingers to the underside of his chin and lift his head slightly.

"Why do you stay here, Rafael?"

Hesitance flashes in his emerald eyes. "I like our agreement," he answers softly.

"Why?"

"It fulfills me."

Rafael and I have an understanding. One that isn't just because of the contract—it's natural. We sense each other's moods. We know when and where things are appropriate. When I am in a mood like this, somewhat melancholy and needy, Rafael knows what level to be on—knows how to match me. He knows what I need from him, the same way I know how much to give him. It's why these sorts of relationships don't work for everyone. You have to be in tune with your partner, and that is something Rafael and I have perfected.

"Fulfills you?"

"Yes, sir."

"In what ways?" I drag my fingers to the back of his neck, using my thumb to brush along the skin beneath his ear.

"All ways, I suppose. Mentally, emotionally, physically."

"So I make you feel good?"

He smiles. "You do."

"What about everything else?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Relationships. Knowing you don't get everything that goes along with it and won't from me, but also can't get it from anyone else."

"I don't want any of that."

I'm aware of this, of course. We've talked about it. Our agreement won't work without absolute honesty and openness and trust. Rafael has never hidden his distaste for committed relationships.

"What if you did?"

"If I did? I suppose I'd talk to you about it."

"You feel comfortable talking to me?"

"I do."

I nod, drop my hands and lean back, about to tell him to take my dick out when he speaks again.

"May I ask you something?"

I nod. "You may."

"Does this have to do with Jordan?"

"If it does?" I raise a brow.

"Then I'd say you need to talk to her, not me. Her and I? We want different things in life. Our situations are not the same. You can guess all you like about what will make her enjoy being here, the way I do, but the only way you'll know for sure is by talking to her." He licks his lips and adds, "Don't use my answers to decide what to do with her."

I hum a sound of approval, giving him another nod to let him know I understand what he's saying.

"May I suck your dick now?" he asks coyly.

I smirk. "You may."

"Thank you," he mutters, freeing my dick that is already half hard. He gives it one stroke and sucks me into his hot mouth. My head falls back, and I close my eyes, enjoying the way Rafael takes his time. For us, it isn't just about the orgasms. It isn't about quick and getting off. It's the journey. It's the act. It's what we lose and gain while giving and taking from one another. Rafael takes his time, loving every second of pleasing me. He moans around my length, licking, sucking, and kissing. The way he worships my dick makes me want to worship him in return. The trip to the end is the very best part.

"On the bed," I groan. He releases me with a pop and stands, making a show of wiping his mouth before moves to the bed. "Naked," I call out as I stand and take my pants off.

He pulls his briefs down, showcasing the perfect round globes of his ass, before crawling onto the bed. The drawer beside it is where we keep the lube, so I grab it, pop it open, and pour a good amount in my hand before lathering it on my dick. I swipe my lubed up hand along Rafael's crease, slicking him up, and work a finger inside while stroking myself with my other hand.

Rafael groans, pressing his face into the mattress but keeping his ass in the air for me.

His dick bobs in front of him, throbbing each time I press down on his prostate. He's leaking pre-cum, little droplets collecting on the comforter beneath him.

"I love how you leak for me."

"I need to come," he says.

"And you will. As soon as you let me into this tight ass." I smack it to add to my point.

"Just fuck me," he says.

Rafael doesn't normally tell me what to do, but things are different when we're in his room. This is what I mean by knowing what to expect from one another. Rafael knows he has more room to speak when we are here. It's more laid back, and dare I say, organic? When we're in the playroom, it's much, much different. But if that's what I wanted from him tonight, that's where we'd be. I'm craving something different. I'm craving something more natural.

I work a second finger into Rafael's hole, and he groans deeply, grinding his ass against my hand.

"Who's the eager one now?" I question as I add a third finger.

"I missed your cock," he says with a husky chuckle.

"Good. You can show me how much."

I hook both hands around his thighs and pull him to me. With a hand flat on his lower back, I press the head of my dick at his hole and sink into him. I do it all in one slow move, not giving him any time to catch his breath or get used to my size. He likes it when I take what I want, and I like when he allows me to do so. Rafael is the very best toy I've ever had.

He tenses around me once I'm all the way in, and then I do what I came here for. I fuck him until I'm sweating, panting, and not worrying about all the bullshit going around. I lose myself in him, in the pleasure, in the way he allows me to use his body, the way he urges me on by moaning and calling out my name and telling me to fuck him harder, to make it hurt, to make sure he feels it tomorrow.

Oh, I will, baby. I will.

"I need to come, Vincenzo. Please let me come," he whines after I've been edging him for quite some time. Stroking his dick a few times and letting go to listen to him cry in frustration.

When I've reached the point where there is no going back, I lift him against my chest, resting a hand at the base of his throat and grasping his dick with my other. I stroke him quick and hard as I grind into him.

"Oh—my—Vincenzo," he growls, his body shaking as his dick pulses with his release. His ass chokes my cock as I fill him with my cum, the orgasm such a sweet relief.

I press a kiss to his shoulder, slowly slide out of him, and glance down to see my work—my cum dripping from his hole. Something about it is so satisfying.

"Let's shower," I say through panting breaths.

Rafael gets off the bed, standing on shaky feet. I hear him pulling the soiled blankets off his bed before he joins me in the bathroom.

Rafael and I don't cuddle, but we do spend time together afterward. Especially during the rougher sessions, which tonight wasn't, but still.

"I'm not sure she'll let me talk to her," I admit once we're in the shower.

He has one of the biggest ones in the house, fit with two shower heads on either side, giving us plenty of room to do what we need to do.

"She will."

"How do you know?"

"We've chatted a few times. She's angry and upset, but I think it's because she doesn't understand. I don't know why she's here, but if I was in her position…" He gives a little shake of his head. "I think knowing what's going on will make her feel better."

"Ruining her relationship with her father won't do me any favors. She'll make it my fault and never forgive me."

"Then let him do it."

I open my eyes and find him staring at me. I run my hands through my hair one more time to get the rest of the soap out.

That is a great fucking idea.