I pant hard as I stare up at Rafael, my hands bound tightly to the cold, unyielding bedpost. The leather cuffs dig into my wrists, keeping my arms stretched above my head, the unforgiving metal frame holding me captive. My fingers curl and flex in futile attempts to test the bounds, the soft material of the restraints contrasting sharply with the rough, unrelenting iron that keeps me anchored in place. I feel every breath hitch in my throat as Rafael's gaze burns into me, the dim light casting shadows that dance across the room, accentuating the tension coiled between us. The bindings bite into my skin, a constant reminder of my vulnerability, yet the sensation is both terrifying and thrilling.

"How are we doing, pet?" Rafael's voice is a low, teasing growl, breaking through the haze of sensation that clouds my mind. His words send a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and trepidation coursing through my veins.

Suddenly, Rafael tugs on the cold metal chain connected to the clamps on my breasts, and a sharp jolt of pain mixed with unexpected pleasure surges through me. I gasp, my breath hitching as the clamps bite into my sensitive skin, each pull intensifying the tight, aching pressure. Instinctively, I arch against my restraints, my body seeking both relief and more of the exquisite torture.

My chest heaves, and I feel as if I'm on fire, consumed by the delicious blend of pain and pleasure. Rafael shows no mercy, his fingers stroking my core with deliberate, maddening precision. Each touch sends me closer to the edge, the sensations building and coiling within me like a tightly wound spring ready to snap.

"Almost there," I manage to respond, my voice strained and breathless. I close my legs, desperately seeking more friction, more pressure, more of everything Rafael is giving me. His fingers find the perfect spot, and I'm teetering on the brink, my body wound so tightly that I feel I might shatter at any moment.

And then, with one final stroke, I'm coming undone, my release crashing over me in intense, overwhelming waves. I cry out, my body shuddering and convulsing as the pleasure consumes me, each pulse of ecstasy more powerful than the last.

As I slowly come down from my high, I'm left trembling and panting, my skin slick with sweat and my mind hazy with the aftershocks of my climax. I love every minute of it, every delicious moment of pain and pleasure that Rafael inflicts upon me. I'm slowly getting addicted to his touch, to the way he pushes me to my limits and beyond, leaving me craving more, always more.

"Beautiful," Rafael breathes, his voice husky with desire as I watch him work the flyer of his pants. He's fully clothed, and I yearn to see him again as I did last night, his tattoos on full display, a tantalizing canvas of ink and muscle. But my thoughts are abruptly cut short as Rafael enters me with one full, powerful stroke.

My hands instinctively curl around the binds, my fingers gripping the soft material tightly as I bite my lip hard, stifling a moan. He fills me completely, stretching me in the most delicious way possible. Even though this is the second time, it still feels as intense and overwhelming as the first, but the pleasure is undeniable.

Rafael's voice cuts through my inner turmoil, his words laced with possessiveness and desire. "Fuck, you were made for me. This cunt was made especially for me, wasn't it?" he asks, his gaze boring into mine as he removes the clamp on my right breast.

I gasp, my toes curling as he replaces the cold metal with his hot mouth, his tongue swirling around my sensitive nipple. The contrast of sensations sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my core, and I arch my back, pressing myself further into his touch.

Rafael's skilled mouth and tongue work magic on my breast, teasing and tormenting me with each flick and suck. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, and I find myself writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

I can feel the coil of pleasure building within me, tightening with each thrust of Rafael's hips and each swipe of his tongue. I'm teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces.

"Ra..." I start, catching myself before quickly correcting, "Sir," the word slipping out as a moan, my body arching as another wave of pleasure courses through me.

Rafael pulls his mouth from my breast, leaving it aching and yearning for more of his touch. "Wasn't it, Frankie?" he asks, his voice a low, seductive growl that sends shivers down my spine.

I'm about to tell him, yes, to confirm that my cunt was indeed made for him, but something within me hesitates. Despite giving him my body, telling him that feels like I'm surrendering my soul, and I'm not ready for that level of vulnerability. It's a strange, inexplicable feeling, but I can't shake it. So, I remain silent, letting my moans fill the air as he continues to thrust into me with deep, powerful strokes.

"Ah, that defiance, Pequeña rebelde," Rafael teases, his words laced with amusement and a hint of challenge. He doesn't relent in his maddening rhythm; each thrust driving me closer to the edge of oblivion.

I meet his gaze, my eyes locked with his as they roll back from the intense pleasure coursing through my body.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear as he keeps driving into me, "Soon, I will have all of it out of your body." His words send a shiver through me, and before I can process it, I'm falling apart with an earth-shattering thrust, my orgasm crashing over me in waves of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. I cry out, my body convulsing and shuddering as the pleasure consumes me, leaving me breathless and trembling in its wake.

A few more thrusts later, Rafael joins me in climax, his own release washing over him with a guttural groan. "Fuck!" he breathes out, his forehead resting against mine, both of us catching our breath. A few strands of his hair fall forward, tickling my face, and I feel an unexpected urge to reach up and brush them away. My hands, thankfully bound, stop me from acting on it. Somehow, I know Rafael wouldn't appreciate such an intimate gesture, and I silently thank whatever force is keeping me restrained, preventing me from crossing that unspoken line.

Rafael pulls out of me and undoes the bounds on my hands. I feel a wave of exhaustion wash over my body. I pant heavily, my limbs feeling heavy as I bring my hands to my sides. My eyelids droop, and I struggle to keep them open, the urge to succumb to sleep growing stronger with each passing second.

A part of me wants to get up and leave before Rafael asks me to, but the allure of closing my eyes for just a moment proves too tempting to resist. I see Rafael's lips part as if he's about to say something, but my eyelids flutter shut before I can catch his words. The muffled sounds of his voice fade into the background, becoming an indistinct murmur as I drift closer to the edge of unconsciousness.

Suddenly, I feel a warm sensation between my legs, and I instinctively force my eyes open, curious and slightly alarmed. To my surprise, I see Rafael holding a towel, gently cleaning my core with a tenderness I had only experienced from him before on the plane earlier today. Once again, the unexpected display of care catches me off guard, and I find myself watching him through half-lidded eyes, a mix of confusion and appreciation swirling within me.

I hold my breath once he's done, waiting for Rafael to ask me to leave, to dismiss me now that he's finished with me. But the words never come. Instead, he surprises me once more by pulling the covers over my body, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. A deep sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes, allowing sleep to claim me.

***

The first light of dawn filters through the room, and I slowly drift into consciousness, my senses gradually awakening to the world around me. But it's not the gentle caress of sunlight that rouses me from my slumber; instead, it's the sensation of Rafael's hard length slowly thrusting into me, his movements deliberate and purposeful.

A confusing mix of arousal and apprehension courses through my body as I become fully aware of what's happening. I'm torn between the undeniable pleasure building within me and the realization that Rafael has taken me without regard for my peaceful sleep. It's a jarring contrast, yet I can't deny the way my body responds to his touch, the way my inner walls clench around him with each deep stroke.

A moan escapes my lips, unbidden and filled with wanton desire. I find myself pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with growing urgency as the coil of pleasure tightens in my core. The sheets beneath me twist and wrinkle as I grip them tightly, anchoring myself to the moment, to the overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume me.

Rafael's pace quickens, his breathing growing ragged as he chases his own release. The room fills with the sounds of our coupling, the slap of skin against skin mingling with our shared moans and gasps. It's a heady, intoxicating symphony that drives me closer to the edge with each passing second.

Then, with a final, deep thrust, I shatter, my orgasm crashing over me in waves of pure, unadulterated bliss. I cry out, my body trembling and convulsing as I cum hard against Rafael's sheets, the evidence of my pleasure soaking into the fabric beneath me.

And that's my life for the following days. By day, I spend time with Daniel, enjoying his company as we laugh, play, and exchange languages—me teaching him English while he teaches me Spanish. It's a welcome distraction, a brief escape from the reality of my situation. But when night falls, everything changes. Rafael takes me to his bed, fucking me into oblivion until I'm left trembling and breathless, my body wracked with pleasure so intense it borders on pain. And just when I think I can finally rest, he wakes me with his touch, his hard length sliding into me as I'm still lost in the haze of sleep.

There's a twisted sort of tenderness in the way he cleans me after each intense session, his hands gentle as they wipe away the evidence of our coupling. He allows me to stay in his bed, but I suspect it's more for his convenience than any real concern for my comfort. After all, it's easier to fuck me in the morning if I'm already there, pliant and available.

Yet, even the most intense orgasms can't make me forget who's really in control. Despite the pleasure, I can't help but worry about my sister. I want to ask Rafael if my body is truly enough to keep Melina off his radar, but I don't know how to bring it up. We never talk; we just fuck. And by the time he's finished with me, I'm too drained to stay awake, let alone have a conversation. Even in the mornings, there's no opportunity for conversation. Rafael is always quick to disappear into the bathroom, getting ready for work as soon as he's finished with me.

I'm desperate to know where things stand, to understand what's really going on in his mind. If I knew, maybe I could figure out what to do next, especially if he decides to go after Melina again. The thought of her being dragged back into this nightmare is unbearable. But how do I even start that conversation with him? How do I get him to tell me what he really plans to do?