Chapter 33

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"I sometimes have the tendency
To look at you religiously, baby.

This is part of a chorus from the song; Nothing Even Matters, by Lauryn Hill and D'Angelo

*Unedited*

Disclaimer: all bit explicit.

Raphael

"Say it!" 

I demanded tears shimmered in her magnificent eyes, one of them traced unheeded down her cheek; I leaned in, wiping it off with my thumb. She stiffened, her body shaking; she looked weary and angry, but so was I.

I was angry at her for wanting to walk away from me, for the strange look she had in her eyes when she looked at me, at my life, but mostly, I was angry at father Josè for triggering a conversation I had tried so hard to avoid until it was necessary.

I wasn't ready to tell her. I was still working out the best way to handle it before it all blew up on my face.

We were so happy this morning. She had loved me. The thought of Sophie hating me and loving someone else drove me into a murderous rage.

She glared at me, daring me to touch her. I moved, flattening my body to hers.  

"Do you love me?" I asked her, pinning her to the wall, my body perfectly feeling hers, my bulge pointed directly to her center.

"Don't you dare make love to me right now," she said fiercely, trying to slap me. I held up her hand just before she slapped me.

"Answer the damn question, Sophie. Do you love me? "

"You have no right to ask me that"

"I have every damn right to ask you. Remember when you whispered it to me, I do; your slim legs were wrapped around me, your breath on my cheek, your arms around my neck, and the best part, I was still slithered inside you."

"Stop!" she exclaimed, raising her arms almost in surrender, her eyes turning molten, her body becoming pliant in my arms.

Come to me, sweetheart. I thought

"Get off me, Raphael," she shouted, hitting me with every part of her body she was able to move. 

 "Answer the damn question, Sophie. Do. You. Love. Me?"  

 We stared at each other, both of us stubbornly willing the other to surrender, the tension between us palpable, each breathing hard and fast. The battle of wills, but I was more willful than she could ever begin to imagine. 

Her eyes slanted down, trying to avoid mine, but I couldn't have that. I held both her hands in one of mine and lifted her chin with the other. 

Her eyes clouding, glistening with tears. It broke my heart to see her crying, but I needed her to admit she loved me; I needed to know she was still mine. Mine to kiss, hold, and mine to spoil. 

I have fantasized, dreamed, planned about taking Sophie around the world, showing her my favorite locations, dining her in the best restaurant in the world, teaching her how to ride horses; I couldn't lose her, not now. 

My eyes brazed, my hands firmly on her hips, our lips almost touching, taunting and teasing her, determined to have her capitulate even if I had to use her body against her. 

"Do you still love me, cara?" I asked softly, kissing her neck, whispering to her ears, reminding her of what we had been doing a few hours ago. By now, I had memorized her body,  what she liked, how she likes to be touched, what made her throw all her caution to the wind.

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