10. Chapter 10

ATLAS

Another restful night in Raphael’s arms is perpetuating the idea of a forever I want to fall into. My anxiety was still at an all-time high, Raphael laughing as I recited several facts until he told me to sleep or he’d sit me in the guest room. That shut me up real quick as I snuggled into his chest and closed my eyes. Spending time with him without sex has shown me a completely different side of him. He’s generous and sweet and there’s a certain smile that spreads across his face when he’s truly relaxed.

I slide out of bed and run to the adjoined bathroom to wash up before finding my way downstairs in search of food. Raphael is a deep sleeper—I’ve come to find out—but I’m not leaving this time.

“Fuck!” I shout before slapping my hands across my mouth. There’s a woman just inside the kitchen who turns around, raising a brow at my exclamation. She doesn’t look anything like Raphael so I’m sure that she’s not his mother but I don’t want to make that assumption just yet.

“I’m sorry. He’s never brought anyone here before. I usually come in the mornings after he’s already left but he mentioned that I could stop through earlier today. I’m sorry to have startled you.” She sends me a sweet smile before gathering a few items and slipping past me toward the door. The scent of lemon and rose settle in the kitchen and I’m not sure how I missed it on my way down here.

I’m still standing in that spot several seconds later when the front door opens and closes. Of course, he has a maid. Then again, so would I with a place this big and a job that important. I’d be tired as I came home every night, unable to expend the energy needed to keep this place clean. Setting aside my insecurity, I head toward the fridge in search of food—my original mission. Several prepared meals in glass containers stare back at me and I realize that maybe all the money in the world really can’t replace everything.

Raphael has been saying that the money doesn’t matter but he wasn’t trying to cheapen me. He was trying to tell me that money can’t replace love. This may feel like a home to me because it’s more than I’ve ever had but seeing the fridge devoid of home-cooked meals or a personal touch to the layout shows me that my childhood home had more heart than this one does.

Feeling the need to change that, I pull out several ingredients to prepare a breakfast Raphael can be proud of. I want to give him the taste of home that I still remember and hopefully, it can put a smile on his face. His fridge has all of the fixings to make a perfect spread and since my shift starts a little later today, I don’t have to worry about rushing to work.

I dance my way across the tiled floor, humming to myself as I whip up an omelet, bacon, and waffles—that were already prepared because I’m not that good.

“What are you doing?”

I startle and look up to see Raphael leaning against the archway, shirtless, groggy, and yet somehow still agitated that I’m in his kitchen. “Um… cooking? Breakfast. Yes, I’m making breakfast.” I wave the spatula to show off my creation, grimacing at the mess I’ve made. My mother always said I’d be a force to reckon with and not in a good way.

His brows raise as he steps forward, his arms dropping down to his sides to show off a side of him that I rarely get to see. In the heated moments that Ive shared with Raphael, we’re rarely fully naked which means I’ve never seen this glorious silver fox without a shirt. My mouth waters at the sight because like me he’s not sporting a six-pack, muscled arms, and an overpowered aura. Everyone calls him Daddy Pierce but they have no idea the deliciousness beneath his clothing.

I can’t help but reach across the counter and touch, mumbling incoherently as my fingers splay over his soft stomach. A little trail of silver hair starts just below his belly and disappears into his pants. He’s gorgeous.

“I am?”

My body stills as my gaze rises back to his. “What?”

“You said ‘he’s gorgeous’ and unless you’re speaking about someone else, thank you for the compliment. Would you like to tell me why you’re cooking breakfast? That’s what the meals are for, little one.” Raphael grabs my hand and raises it to his lips, kissing my knuckles before pointing to the fridge. “You could have just pulled something out.”

“That’s so boring. I wanted to cook for my boyfriend.” I pull back my hand and continue plating up what I’ve made, fully aware that I’ve introduced a new term into our relationship.

“Boyfriend? Is that a step we’re taking?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” I want to stomp my foot and throw a temper tantrum but that won’t solve anything.

Raphael catches onto my internal discourse as he rounds the counter. He stands with his chest pressed against my side before pulling me into his chest and kissing my forehead. “Because you never offer to show me off. We spend most of our moments in places that are pretty empty except for yesterday.”

“I’m your employee, though. It’s weird.” I try not to think about yesterday because there are several instances both yesterday and the day before that people will start to catch on that I’m not just Raphael’s coffee maker. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying.” Raphael huffs a playful sigh as his lips press against my temple again, his hands moving to sift beneath my shirt and play with the skin there. I lean into his touch, groaning when he manages to slip a hand down my pants and grab my cock.

Those long arms are going to be the death of me.

I shriek and flip a waffle a little too hard, the breakfast item flying across the kitchen and splatting against the wall. “Raphael!” I hiss. I should slap him away but he’s already in front of me, backing me up and hoisting me up onto the counter. I grip his arms as he steps between my thighs, a devilish smile on his lips. “No! Your maid just cleaned.”

“And I’ll clean right after,” he purrs, making it hard to fight him on that. His hands flatten against the counter on either side of my legs as he steps a little closer, his lips hovering over mine. “Tell me to stop, little one.”

“Um-”

Raphael sifts closer, his cock resting against my inner thigh. I swear I can feel it throbbing and I clear my throat as Raphael’s lips meet mine. It’s a sweet kiss in contrast to what he’s asking and over too soon. “Little One, I need your words.”

“What are you going to do to me?” I ask, breathily, squirming on the counter when his hands move to the hem of my shirt. This is a big step, showing him all of me but I give in because I want it. So fucking bad. “Yes, I want this,” I whisper and then raise my hands as he helps me out of my shirt, his cold hands making me gasp when they touch my bare waist. His lips fall to my jaw and begin traveling down my neck before landing on my chest.

My hands hold onto his shoulders as he swallows one of my nipples, running his tongue around the erect nub before nipping at it and making my back arch forward in response. His attention moves to the other one, following the same pattern until I’m panting for more.

“Patience, little one,” he muses as he continues his descent. Raphael ends up on his knees, his hands sliding my pants and boxers down my legs until I’m woefully bare in front of him. I swallow nervously, hoping he doesn’t hate what he sees but there is only love and adoration in this man’s gaze. His hands glide up my thighs, pressing into the skin before widening them. My cock bounces with the movement and I whine as cold air caresses it. Raphael meets my gaze as he leans forward, his tongue darting out to lick my tip and I buck forward, unable to control myself.

None of my other partners would have ever dropped to their knees for me and yet, Raphael is here, showing me that nothing else matters than just the two of us.

“You asked me what I’m doing, little one. I want to own your pleasure. Your screams. Your love. Your heart. Your soul. We’ve been doing this dance for far too long and I want more. I am a greedy man, little one.” He sucks on the tip of my cock and I whine at the absolute pleasure that shoots through me. Raphael changes our position so that my thighs are now thrown over his shoulders, his hands slipping beneath my legs to grab my ass and drag me forward. “Give me this orgasm, little one.”

I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven as Raphael swallows me whole, my head falling back against the cabinets. A groan tears from my throat as my hands dig into his hair, yanking him forward. My thighs squeeze his head and despite the embarrassment that heats my cheeks, I thrust up into his mouth, wanting more of that warmth around my cock.

Raphael digs his fingers into my ass as he sucks me off, hollowing out his cheeks and picking a pace I can hardly follow. He’s too much and not enough, pleasure zinging through me again when one of his hands prods between my ass cheeks. Two fingers rim my hole and I jump forward, Raphael continuing his pace. I try to push him away, my eyes widening as I feel the familiar build-up of my orgasm.

“Raphael—ungh—I’m going to come.”

“Then give it to me,” he growls when he pulls back. His gaze meets mine, a fire in his eyes as he swallows me again, those fingers prodding my hole dipping in just the slightest bit. It’s enough to set me off as I cry out and spill down my lover’s throat. Raphael swallows my release, lapping me up like a man-starved until I’m whining for a reprieve. “You taste divine,” Raphael muses as he stands up, licking his lips. His hands move to either side of my thighs again and I suddenly don’t know what to look at. His chest? No. His hands? No, that just brings memories of the punishing grip on my thighs. His eyes?

Dammnit.

A smirk hangs on Raphael’s lips and I can’t help but pull him forward so I can kiss him, tasting myself on his lips and tongue. Raphael dominates the embrace as he presses me against the cabinets, taking what he wants and giving me what I need. We are content to hold each other, kissing and touching, hands roaming until I pull away out of breath. “I should-”

Raphael shakes his head as he kisses me again, this one short and sweet. “My pleasure comes with you falling apart, little one. No, I’m serious,” he says as he catches my hand before it reaches his pants. “You were never ready for more or maybe you were and I never asked. My release comes from your happiness. In everything. Watching you smile. Hearing you laugh. Feeling you wrap yourself around me these past couple of days? Your greedy little hole is only part of what I love about you, little one.”

My flushed skin does nothing to hide my embarrassment as he helps me off the counter. I scramble for my clothes and point to the food I made. “Eat. I need to go take a shower.” Raphael grins as if my need to wash up again is an accomplishment. I rush up the stairs, spending maybe a few minutes too long enjoying the warm water. I don’t have time to wash my hair so I avoid getting my curls wet. Ten minutes later, I’m struggling into my clothes and rushing back down the stairs.

I don’t expect to see Raphael standing at the counter, indulging in the breakfast that I made. Although he seemed thankful earlier, I wasn’t sure if I had overstepped. A hearty moan filters through his lips and I stumble forward, alerting him of my presence.

“You–you like it?”

“Little One, if I had known you could cook, I would have stolen you away earlier. Maybe I should set up a little kitchen in my office and just keep you there.” He cuts off a small piece of waffle, dripping in syrup, and raises it to his lips. “It’s delicious.”

I don’t know what to do with that information. It’s just breakfast. However, I got a pretty good snapshot of how Raphael lives outside of work with all those prepared meals. “Thank you.”

Raphael’s brows furrow as his head cocks to the side, watching me fidget with my hands. I make my way to my plate, scarfing it down to avoid the awkward situation. Even so, I don’t notice Raphael at my side until he’s twisting me to face him. “I think that maybe I don’t say enough how much you mean to me. Little One, the last time I had a homecooked meal was when I went home for dinner. It’s either restaurants or catered dinners to events or the company. I rarely have the energy nor the time to make food for myself, let alone do much when I come home. This-” He points to the dishes. “Means everything to me. It’s more than anyone else has done.”

I can’t help digging myself into a hole. “I just wanted to make you breakfast.”

“And it shows that you care. That you wanted to impress me. That you wanted me to love something that you made. I don’t just love it. I’m grateful for it. Moments like these are the ones I want to cherish,” he whispers as he lowers his head to mine, his lips inches from mine. “Especially the sugary sweet syrup coating your lips.”

And then he kisses me. His tongue runs along the seam of my mouth before he pulls away.

“You make me feel loved, little one,” Raphael whispers before he disappears from my side a second later to wash up as well. I turn to see his plate empty. He ate all of it. My mother always told me that if someone cleaned their plate, it wasn’t just an appreciation of the food but also respect for the cook.

I finish my food and stuff the dishes in the sink, in a daze at his words. He feels loved. By the time we’re walking out the door, showered, bellies full, my head is still in the clouds until Raphael points to his car. I shake my head, not wanting to burden him. “I can just take the bus. I have class first.”

“I won’t be your secret forever, Atlas.”

It hurts that that’s what he thinks he is. He’s not my secret but I need to explain my relationship before people make assumptions. And getting dropped off by Raphael in his fancy electric blue sports car is the opposite of that. Then again, people are going to talk anyway. “Um, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

I swallow carefully as I pull my bag to my chest and nod to his car. “You can drop me off. I’m trying, okay? I want this. I want you but it’s just hard sometimes to separate what people will think and whether it matters. It doesn’t. You make me feel loved too, Raphael,” I say, repeating his words back to him. I grant him a small smile that he takes in stride as he lowers his forehead to mine. The momentary touch is enough to warm me up from the inside before he leads me to the car and helps me inside.

The drive is comfortably quiet and Raphael offers me his hand only to keep it pressed to his lips the entire ride. I don’t want to leave this little piece of heaven as we pull up to the campus, and Raphael leans over to kiss my cheek. “Be good, little one. Do you need a ride to work after?”

I shake my head and hold up my free hand before he argues. “It’s not convenient for you to do that. The bus goes straight there after my class.” He accepts that answer, leaving me to climb out of his car and move onto campus. I hold my head up high, proud of the man and the relationship that I have. It isn’t until I make it to my first class that I see Tracey waving me over to a seat she’s saved.

“You didn’t tell me that you and Daddy Pierce were a thing! We were all messing with you and you were holding out on us,” She jabs me in the side as I slide into a seat beside her. “You’re barking up a dangerous tree, though. I heard he doesn’t keep people long and what happens at the event when he ignores you? He’ll probably be forced to showcase whoever his mother has picked out for him.”

My heart falls into my stomach at that prospect. I didn’t even know there was an event even if everyone in the building is always invited. I would find out eventually but knowing that Raphael organized it makes all this weird. I can’t stop thinking about it even after class ends and I’m on my way to the bus stop, dialing Raphael before I even know what I’m doing.

“Did you know there was a party?” I ask the moment he picks up.

Raphael chuckles. “Yes, little one. I organized it.”

“But you didn’t mention it.” I move to the far end of the bus stop just in case Tracey’s last class was the one we were just in. No need for her to know how close Raphael and I are just yet.

“You’ve never shown interest before. A lot of suits, champagne, and fancy foods while people talk about business. The only thing you would enjoy is the food. It’s more of an evening for networking.” Raphael almost sounds hopeful on the other line. I realize that I just called in the middle of the day with a stupid question and he still picked up.

“And if I wanted to go?” I start twisting my foot into the concrete sidewalk, grinning at the idea of dressing up.

“Then I’d have a suit ready for you.”

I hang up, feeling a little lighter than before. Going to this event is going to be a step neither one of us has taken—however, knowing that his mother might have a prospect for him weighs on my heart. I believe Raphael, though. He said he wanted me. That means he’ll also fight for me. I just need to trust him.