Days go by in a blur, and my life slowly settles into a new normal. I spend my days with Caroline, trying my best to help her come out of her shell and provide the information I need to help her find her way home. She's still holding back for reasons unknown to me, but at least she isn't as uptight as before. I have to give credit to Miguel for that. He's taken it upon himself to make her as comfortable as possible, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he's developed a bit of a crush on her. It's cute, but I'm not sure if it's the best idea.

After putting Danny to bed, I make my way to Rafael's office. We haven't revisited the conversation we had over lunch that day, and honestly, I'm not surprised after his tense reaction to my hug. I knock softly, and upon hearing his response, I step inside.

As always, Rafael is engrossed in his work, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a glass of whiskey beside him, the amber liquid catching the light from his desk lamp. He wears a sharp black suit that hugs his frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, giving him an air of authority and allure. I watch, transfixed, as he lifts the glass, his fingers adorned with a skull tattoo wrapping around the tumbler. He takes a sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. I find myself licking my lips, my eyes glued to his mouth as it glistens with moisture from the drink. God, this man is stunning. I see it every day, yet it feels like I'm discovering it anew each time.

I watch, transfixed, as he lifts the glass, his fingers adorned with a skull tattoo wrapping around the tumbler. He takes a sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. I find myself licking my lips, my eyes glued to his mouth as it glistens with moisture from the drink. God, this man is stunning. I see it every day, yet it feels like I'm discovering it anew each time.

My mind wanders, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, especially while we fuck and his face is so close to mine. I can't help but imagine the taste of his lips, the sensation of them pressing against my own. It's a foolish thought, I know, but the longing persists, and I can't seem to shake it.

"I know I make your wildest dreams come true, Francesca, but you don't have to be so obvious about it," Rafael draws, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Have a seat."

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I hurriedly move to the chair opposite his desk, settling down as I try to mask my embarrassment.

"How's your friendship with Carla going? Are you two getting closer?" he asks, leaning back in his chair.

"We were, but for the past few days, I haven't been able to get a reply from her," I admit, concern creeping into my voice.

"Hmm... Do you think something's wrong?" he probes, his tone shifting slightly.

"Not really," I reply honestly, but a knot of worry forms in my stomach.

"What do you mean?" he presses, his curiosity piqued.

I take a deep breath before explaining. "The day we met, I noticed she was wearing quite a lot of makeup for just a day out with the kids. It shouldn't have been concerning, but then I grabbed her wrist once, and she winced. The last time we spoke, I heard shouting in the background when her husband came home, and she abruptly hung up on me. I haven't heard from her since."

Rafael leans forward, his brow furrowed. "Do you think he's abusing her?"

"I can't be sure, but it can't be ruled out," I reply, the worry tightening in my chest.

"If that's the case, I want you to go over to her place tomorrow," he says, his tone suddenly serious.

"Alright, no problem. I will,"

***

Later that evening, I find myself at the dinner table, my eyes inexorably drawn to Rafael sitting across from me. He's engrossed in conversation with Julio, discussing some business matters, but I'm lost in a completely different world. My gaze traces the contours of his shirt, mesmerized by how the crisp fabric clings to his broad chest. Every time he leans forward, the material pulls taut, accentuating the muscular frame beneath. His hands move with casual grace as they grip his fork, completely oblivious to the havoc he's wreaking on my senses.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, absently pushing the food around on my plate. The heat between my legs is relentless, an all-consuming ache that refuses to be ignored. My mind keeps replaying that fleeting moment from earlier - when Rafael brushed past me in the narrow hallway. That split second of contact was enough to ignite a fire within me, and now I'm trapped here, feigning interest in dinner conversation while every fiber of my being screams for his touch.

"Are you okay?" Miguel's voice cuts through my fevered thoughts as he takes the seat beside me. I startle slightly, hoping my flushed face isn't betraying the tumultuous desires coursing through me.

"Huh? Yeah, fine," I manage to mutter, praying that my voice doesn't quiver and give me away. I'm barely holding myself together, teetering on the edge of composure.

Rafael's piercing gaze flicks towards me for a brief moment, and it's as if he can see right through me. The corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly, just enough to send a fresh wave of longing through my body. But he says nothing, turning his attention back to the conversation at hand. I bite my lip hard, desperately trying to focus on anything else - the metallic clink of silverware, the steady hum of voices around the table - anything but the magnetic pull that threatens to unravel me right here in front of everyone.

As I sit there, my body thrumming with need, a realization dawns on me. I'd figured out earlier why I felt so wildly out of control today - I was ovulating. The knowledge does little to quell the desire; if anything, it intensifies it. And the fact that Rafael and I hadn't fucked in days certainly isn't helping matters. Every stolen glance, every accidental brush of fabric against my hypersensitive skin, only serves to stoke the flames of my arousal higher. I take a deep breath, willing myself to make it through this dinner without combusting on the spot.

The rest of dinner drags on, an exquisite torture as my mind fills with increasingly vivid, dirty thoughts. I'm so lost in my own heated imagination that I barely notice when everyone else leaves until suddenly, it's just the two of us. Rafael remains seated at the table, a sly smirk playing on his lips. A part of me wonders if he's been deliberately withholding sex these past days, a calculated punishment for my bold move at the restaurant.

"Come here," he commands, his voice carrying an edge that sends a shiver racing down my spine. My body thrums with anticipation as I slowly push my chair back and walk towards him on unsteady legs.

"Sit," he instructs, gesturing to the spot on the table directly in front of him. His plate is gone, and as I move to perch on the edge, I can't shake a sense of déjà vu, even though this feels worlds apart from our last encounter here.

I part my legs, letting my dress ride up, giving him an unobstructed view of my already glistening pussy. My heart pounds, a mix of nervousness and overwhelming desire.

"Are you that horny for me to fuck you, Francesca?" Rafael asks, leaning back in his chair. His eyes don't drop to where I desperately want them, and frustration mingles with my arousal. Is he going to fuck me or not?

"Who says I'm horny?" I retort though I'm so close to throwing caution to the wind and pleasuring myself right in front of him if he doesn't act soon. But I'd never admit that aloud – let my body do the talking.

"Really? Because I'd bet a hundred bucks you're dripping just from watching me eat," he challenges, his voice low and knowing.

"Why don't you make it a thousand?" I counter, using it as an excuse to force his hand. I edge forward, spreading my legs wider. "Go ahead. You can check." His eyebrow raises in surprise, and I can't help but smile. *Jackpot.*

A voice drifts from nearby, abruptly reminding me where we are. My eyes widen as I realize I'm about to let him take me right here in the dining room. What if someone walks in on us? The thought, instead of cooling my ardor, only heightens my anticipation.

I'm yanked from my thoughts by a sudden intrusion in my core. A gasp escapes me, my back arching instinctively as pleasure shoots through my body. Rafael's fingers, I realize, have found their mark, and any remaining hesitation evaporates in an instant.

"You owe me a thousand bucks, little rebel," Rafael says, a smirk dancing on his lips as he brings two fingers slick with my juices to his mouth.

"Just fuck me already," I retort, impatience flooding my voice as I'm done with the teasing.

He chuckles, and in the blink of an eye, I realize my dress is gone, the cool night breeze brushing against my naked skin. i had intentionally gone without underwear today, hoping for this very moment.

Rafael's gaze is intense, his eyes devouring every inch of me, igniting a fire that sends warmth pooling between my legs. My breath hitches as he leans behind me, revealing a bowl of chocolate fondue, its glossy surface glimmering under the dim light. What does he plan to do with that?

I don't have to wonder for long. Rafael takes his time, slowly dripping the warm chocolate onto my neck. I feel it trickle down, the heat mingling with the warmth radiating from my body. My mouth parts in surprise, anticipation coiling tight in my stomach as his hot lips descend onto my skin.

His tongue flicks out, savoring every drop of chocolate, lingering on my neck as if he's enjoying a fine meal. A shiver races down my spine, and my core clenches involuntarily, heat pooling deeper within me. I can feel my nipples tighten with desire, each touch igniting a fire that spreads through me.

He pours more chocolate fondue onto my chest, and I arch my back as his mouth envelops one of my breasts, sucking and pulling on the aching bud.

"Rafael," I moan, my eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure wash over me. God! I love having his mouth on me, and each kiss only intensifies my need as he lowers himself, trailing kisses down to my belly.

His head hovers at my center, and I hold my breath, excitement humming through my veins. I've craved his mouth, his fingers, his tongue—all of him—inside me all day.

"Fuck!" I gasp as he takes me fully into his mouth, his tongue plunging into my core with a teasing rhythm, filling me up and pulling away again.

"Ride my face, little rebel," he says, his words muffled against my core, but I catch every syllable. I don't need to be told twice. I grab a fistful of his hair and start to rock my hips, riding his face hard and fast.

Rafael lets me take control, urging me on as I push myself against him, my breaths turning into desperate gasps. The pleasure builds, crashing over me like a tidal wave as I come, panting as if I've just sprinted a mile, but instead of exhaustion, I'm overwhelmed by the intensity of my orgasm.

Rafael pulls away from between my legs, standing to his feet, my juices glistening on his chin and lips. He reaches back to the table, picking up a cherry. I expect him to pop it in his mouth, but instead, he slides it into my core, rubbing it against my sensitive walls. My eyes widen in shock, a soft moan escaping my lips at his unexpected action. But he doesn't leave it there for long. To my astonishment, he pulls the fruit back out and takes a bite, swallowing it down with a casualness that makes my heart race.

"Perfect, just like I thought it would be," he says, his gaze locked on mine as if he hasn't just eaten a cherry he thrust into my pussy. I know it might seem like I'm overreacting—after all, he just made me come hard across his face—but this feels different.

Rafael wraps his hands around my neck, pulling me closer, and I gasp as I feel him inside me. I must have been too lost in thought to notice he had pulled his dick out of his pants.

My eyes roll back as the pressure he exerts on my neck intensifies the pleasure he brings.

"Fuck," I moan, feeling him thrust deep into me. My body scrapes against the table with every powerful movement, but the sharp sting only heightens the pleasure coursing through me. The thrill of knowing that anyone could walk in on us right now makes it all the more erotic.

"That's my girl. Cum for me once again," Rafael says, and I gasp as he pours the warm chocolate fondue over my face, the thick liquid cascading down my skin. He leans in, licking it off with a delicious intensity that makes my head spin. His mouth moves in rhythm with his thrusts, his tongue dancing over my eyes, nose, and lips, each moan spilling from my parted mouth. He descends lower, licking the chocolate off my breasts, swirling his lips around my aching nipples, driving me wild.

"Rafael!" I gasp, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me. I've never felt so turned on in my life, and the speed and force of his movements push me closer to the edge. I can feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter within me.

"Clench my fucking cock like it's yours," he groans, thrusting deep inside me. The pressure he exerts on my neck intensifies the sensation, and as I clench around him, coming hard, the world around me blurs. He doesn't stop, driving into me relentlessly until he fills me completely with his cum.

I pant, dropping my forehead against his chest as I struggle to catch my breath. The words slip from my lips. "I don't suppose you still want that thousand bucks?" I murmur against his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter.

"I don't suppose you still want that thousand bucks," I say against his chest, feeling the deep rumble of his laughter vibrate through me. A smile spreads across my face, delighting in the sound of his joy. When I finally lift my gaze to meet his, my heart swells; his beautiful features light up with glee, making him even more handsome in this moment.

He should laugh more often, but I doubt he will. Men like him rarely allow themselves such luxuries, and it frustrates me. A man as striking as Rafael deserves to express his emotions freely, and I'm determined to help him embrace that side of himself.