6.

SIX

Rafael

That fucking bastard. I want to kill him.

Just last night he fucked me practically into a coma. And tonight? I track him down here , at one of the poshest restaurants in the city, with a woman .

He’s going to pay for this.

I need to study him first, however, so I don’t let him see me. It’s not easy. I’m not a subtle person, and I’m wearing a purple and gold corset vest over a lavender shirt.

Fortunately, Dominic and his date are occupying one of the most prominent tables. I can observe them from the recessed space of the cocktail lounge.

Dominic looks fine as hell in his black three-piece suit. His dark crewcut hair is styled with effortless perfection, showing off the exquisite angles of his face. And god, those pouty lips. He has the sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen.

As for his date, her green silk dress is sensual but classy, and her blonde hair shines like pale gold under the chandelier’s flattering light.

So, yeah, they look great together. But there are some flaws in this picture.

She’s working way too hard to carry the weight of the conversation while Dominic looks broody and bored. He’s trying, sort of, occasionally making eye contact with her, throwing in bland comments here and there that she does does her best to transform into conversation.

I whisk my wine off the table and saunter from the lounge to the dining area. I can feel my g-string between my ass cheeks as I walk. I fucking love that.

It mollifies me, just a touch, that Dominic sees me almost at once. The boredom vanishes from his expression. He’s instantly intense. Furious, yes—but hungry too. His dark eyes absolutely eat me up as I make my way past the other stylish diners.

Dominic’s date follows his gaze. Her red lips part as she takes in the sight of me. She might not interest me, but I still appreciate that.

She turns back to Dominic and says something to him. His eyes flick to her briefly before returning to me. He doesn’t answer her.

Now she’s annoyed, and who can blame her? No one likes to be ignored. But I’m the center of attention right now—and not just Dominic’s. Between his glare and my flair, my arrival at his table attracts several peripheral glances.

“Good evening, Dominic,” I say smoothly. “And …?”

The blonde beauty waits for Dominic to introduce her. When it’s obvious that he’s not going to—because he’s fixated on me and has maybe even forgotten her name—she answers in a voice as sharp as shattered crystal, “Nicole.”

“Nicole,” I echo, flashing my most charming smile. “Let me help you out, darling. He’s not interested. And he’s doing a shit job of even pretending.”

I expect her to agree with me, maybe joke a little, then quietly depart. After all, the truth of what I’ve said is painfully obvious. But she surprises me with look of supreme disdain.

“And you are?” she sneers.

I don’t have a chance to answer before Dominic growls, “Rafael, fuck off.”

His eyes are burning with dark fury. His jaw is clenched so hard that a muscle is feathering in his cheek. His hand is fisted tight on the table by his wineglass.

Heat moves through my body at the sight of his anger, the promise of it.

“You don’t want her,” I tell him. He wants me —and it pisses me off to see him here pretending otherwise.

He came inside me twice last night. He fucked me with rage and desperate hunger. I might have been high, but I remember that. I’ve felt it echoing in my body all day.

Does he imagine that he could ever fuck her like that? With that kind of raw truth?

“Rafael,” he warns in a low voice. The only reason he’s staying quiet is that he doesn’t want a scene. I think he knows that if he pushes me, I’ll make one.

“Dominic?” his date inquires.

I bend down to rest my wineglass on the table and create some semblance of speaking privately. I’m not here to embarrass her. I just want her out of my way. And out of my chair.

“Nicole, whatever it is you want from him—status, money, a good fuck—you aren’t going to get. He’s already bored. Leave, before it becomes even more painfully obvious.”

She tries one last time, looking to Dominic to deny it. But even if his eyes are burning with rage, they’re burning only on me.

She tosses her napkin on the table and gets up. “You’re an asshole,” she says, maybe to Dominic, maybe to me. Fair enough in either case.

Neither of us watch her leave. I take her seat, settling back and hooking one leg over the other.

“Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?” Dominic whispers across the table. My cock, already half hard, stiffens.

“I have lots of ideas—and some very fun rooms for exploring them.”

His nostrils flare. I wonder if he’s getting hard too. He says darkly, “I also have some very fun rooms.”

Torture and disposal rooms, he means. I smile to let him know I understand. He scowls.

The food arrives on a silver tray. The waiter stalls when he sees me instead of Nicole.

“Sir?” he says, looking to Dominic.

“Serve.” Dominic practically grinds the word out.

Dominic’s steak is delivered, then the waiter sets a plate of scallops in front of me. I can work with that, but I’ll need a different wine.

“Chablis, please,” I say.

The waiter nods and vanishes with my red wine and Nicole’s abandoned glass.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dominic asks quietly.

“Saving you from boredom. You should’ve seen your face.”

“My face is the last thing you’re going to see.”

“Your fun room or mine?”

His eyes harden. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do believe you, Dominic.”

He studies me, expecting me to laugh. When he sees that I’m serious, he frowns.

The waiter returns with a glass of pale golden wine to me to approve, which I do. Like everything here, it’s irreproachable.

I cut into the tender scallops. Dominic doesn’t touch his steak. It annoys me.

“Why were you putting yourself through that?” I ask. “What was the point?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Were you going to fuck her? Can you?”

I thought he was still before, but my words turn him to absolute stone. I wait for him to get up and thrown his napkin on the table like Nicole did.

Instead, his eyes narrow and he asks, “Are you wearing makeup?”

“Yes. You bruised my face. But I wore purple, so you could still enjoy me in the color.”

I take a bite of the delicate, delicious scallops.

“Rafael.”

I look up at the heavy intonation of my name. Dominic’s weighted gaze locks me in place even before he says, “Don’t ever cover up what I do to you.”

We stare at each other across the table for a long moment. Then he frees me from his gaze when he picks up his knife and fork and cuts into his steak. A shudder goes through my body, rocking me so hard that I bump into the table. My cock twitches in the lacy front of my g-string. My hole clenches on nothing. God, I need him there.

I watch him eat with impeccable manners, fascinated by the veneer of civility over his raw, violent masculinity. His knife goes through his steak like butter, but his jaw still works visibly on the tender meat. My eyes watch his throat as he swallows.

He picks up his wine. Eyes flicking to me over the rim of it, he says in a dark, commanding voice, “Eat, Rafael.”

I obey him. I think I would obey anything he said in that voice.

“Are you always that careless?” he asks as we eat.

“No.”

Dominic cuts into the rose shape of his potatoes. I think of the tattooed roses on my body and wonder if he would cut into them too.

Dominic’s eyes narrow. “But you were just going to leave that mess?”

I take that as a rhetorical question because the answer is obviously yes. I wasn’t thinking enough to make a good decision.

“Why did you clean up after me?” I ask.

“I couldn’t leave that mess, not after I’d been there too.”

“Ah.”

His eyes flick up to mine, making me self-conscious of my disappointment.

“You were careless too,” I point out.

Yes, I’m deflecting, but it’s true. He fucked me bare. I know I’m clean because I’m always careful—last night excepted, of course—and I get tested all the time to be sure. But he didn’t know that when he bred me.

Dominic is too smart to be that careless, which means he was succumbing to a primal need, one he couldn’t deny.

His nostrils flare. He doesn’t like that I’ve pointed it out.

“I’ll get tested.”

“I just got tested last week. I’m clean. Are you?”

A blush shows through his olive complexion. He looks away briefly before meeting my gaze to say, “Yes. I’m usually …”

“More careful,” I supply when he trails off.

He looks away again, clearly not wanting to discuss this further. I don’t know how often he’s had sex with men. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him to get away with. He would’ve needed to be extremely careful to hide it from his father, and that would have included staying clean.

“You don’t have to be careful with me,” I tell him. He can hit me, hurt me, come inside me. I want him to.

God, do I want it.

His nostrils flare again, but I don’t know what that means this time, and it annoys me that he won’t reply so I ask, “Were you trying to prove something tonight? With her?”

He glares at me. “It’s none of your business what I was doing.”

“I made it my business.”

“What you did was make yourself the center of attention—because you’re an attention whore, Rafael. But I have other interests and other things to do. In fact, I have another date tonight.”

He stands up from the table and tosses his napkin down. “You can get the bill,” he says, and walks out.