The Taste Of Revenge (War of Sins Book 1)

Rafaelo

'Noelle still isn't here,' Cisco mutters as he glances at his watch, tapping his foot impatiently.

Yuyu is by his side as she snakes her arm around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder.

'Don't fret, she'll be here soon,' she tells him gently.

'I can go check on her,' I immediately volunteer.

'I'm not sure...' Cisco starts but is interrupted by his wife who urges me to go on.

'Please do,' she nods at me before turning to her husband and chiding him for being too strict with Noelle. 'They are to be married after all,' I hear her murmur as I head to Noelle's room.

After everyone had been made aware of our upcoming nuptials, Cisco had suggested we went to dinner to celebrate the engagement. Everyone had been in agreement—everyone but Noelle, that is. And seeing how vehement she'd been about it, I can only assume she's trying to pull something off to remove herself from the situation.

Too bad for her that any problem she'll cause will only irritate her brother. Yuyu is seven months pregnant, and the tiniest inconvenience when it comes to her has him blow up.

Reaching the third floor, I don't even knock as I push open the door, ready to catch the little liar in flagrante delicto.

As I take a step inside the room, I am met by an unusual sight.

She's sitting at her vanity.

Still garbed in a silky white robe, she's gazing melancholically in the mirror. Her hair is swept to the side as she trails a finger down the column of her neck.

So lost she is in her own world that she doesn't realize she's no longer alone in the room.

Like feathers, her fingers glide softly over her soft skin, the gesture unusually sensual.

I stop, my feet firmly planted in the middle of the room as I can only stare at the vision before me.

Her tongue peeks out to wet her lips, lingering over her upper lip. Her eyes snap closed as a small sigh escapes her lips.

I swallow. Hard.

I can't help the way my eyes are drawn to the expanse of skin available for my perusal. And as I continue watching her, I note that my breathing is now emulating hers.

She inhales. I inhale.

She exhales. I exhale.

There's only silence besides our joint breaths, the sound of a heart hammering in a chest almost deafening—not mine, it could never be mine.

Her fingers move, tracing the corded muscles of her neck, down to her clavicle.

Without even realizing, my feet carry me forward until I'm behind her, the mirror reflecting every single gesture she makes.

The tips of her fingers rest on the swell of her breasts, emphasized even more by the low cut gown she's wearing.

My eyes dip to the tantalizing sight, following her fingers as they continue to move gracefully down her front.

I feel my own pulse building to a painful crescendo as I continue to lose myself in visions of velvet skin and soft caresses.

'Done shamelessly staring?' she asks impudently, her eyes wide open. She's gazing at me through the mirror, a brow raised as she waits for me to reply.

My mouth opens and closes in an unspoken answer, words failing me as I become aware of my own mindless state. So caught off guard I'd been by her words that I can only stare at her flabbergasted.