Butterflies & Vicious Lies (Fractured Rhymes Book 1)
Butterflies & Vicious Lies: Chapter 35

THE UNRELENTING VIBRATIONS are washing away my every basic thought and with them go all the memorized choreography I’ve stored over the years. He had me turn the music back on, and I can barely hear it. If Rafferty would give me a second to think and recoup, I’m sure I’d be able to remember one of the many dances I know, but the bastard hasn’t let up since he started this whole thing.

My only choice is to let my body take the reins and let it lead me across the room in various leaps and turns. I’m on my toes with my other leg extended far behind me and my arms raised at my sides when he ups the intensity. Instantly, both feet are flat on the ground and my knees are squeezed tight.

“Oh my god,” I hiss through my teeth, head bowed to my heaving chest. I was fairly close before he told me to start dancing, and if I stand still for just a moment longer, I’ll fall over the edge.

“I know that’s not all you’ve got,” Rafferty chastises from the chair he’s casually straddling. His bulky arms are crossed over the back of the chair and his icy eyes haven’t left me once. With each move, I feel them raking over my body with approval. “You can last longer than that.”

He thinks by taunting me that he’ll be able to bring out the competitiveness in me, and he’s annoyingly right. I want to come—need to—but I also don’t want to give in too fast.

Shaking my head, I try to clear some of the pleasure-induced fog and refocus as the song changes to the next one on my playlist. The low, steady beat of “Edge Of The Dark” by Emmit Fenn speaks to me, summoning the performer in me. The lyrics are also perfect for our current situation.

Taking a steadying breath, I rise back onto my toes in my pointe shoes and restart my dance with a little bit more concentration. I twirl over to him as elegantly as I can manage. He probably didn’t expect I’d use him as a prop, but he was wrong.

Standing behind him, his eyes lock with mine in the mirror when I hold my hands on his shoulders and bring my leg straight up over my head. The shape of the vibrator and the snugness of my outfit keep it in place, but my inner muscles are like a vise around it too.

The corners of Raff’s lips pull up when I bring my leg down and hook it around his chest. I yank his body back with it and hold him there while I rake my fingers through his wavy hair. A breath hisses out between his lips when I pull on the strands. Dropping my leg, I turn his head toward me and bend down like I’m going to kiss him. His chin tilts up to meet me, but before my lips can ghost his, I turn away from him.

He fights dirty and changes the setting. The low constant vibration turns into a rapid pulsing that has me stumbling out of position. Hands, which had been arched above my head, fall to my sides as my steps falter.

“Teasing me is never wise, baby,” he warns darkly, like he’s a wicked mastermind. Though, in many ways, I guess that’s exactly what he is.

Eyes almost rolling back in my head, I try to stop my knees from giving out. My muscles are shaking, making it a very real possibility that I’m going to collapse to the Marley floor. Sucking in air, I look over my shoulder at him.

“I don’t know, it feels like teasing you might give me exactly what I want.”

“Oh yeah? And what is it you want?” His dark brow quirks. “Tell me with your words, and I might feel inclined to give it to you.”

The answer is easy, or, at the very least, it should be. I want you to make me come. I know that’s what he’s expecting me to say, and I know that’s what I should say but tell me why that’s not what I say.

My breath stutters and my skin begins to prickle as warmth grows in my core before I allow the words to fall from my mouth. “I want you to tell me that this is real and you’re not going to push me away tomorrow when you suddenly remember you hate me.”

I knew I was craving reassurance from him, but I didn’t realize how much until he hesitates to respond to me. He sits there with a blank face and his spine rigid. I’m this close to wishing the floor would swallow me whole and help me escape the embarrassment I just waltzed into when I see the shift.

It’s a small change, and I highly doubt it would be noticeable to anyone but me. I grew up searching his stony expressions for changes like this because I always wanted to know what was going on in his head. It wasn’t until he let me behind his walls that I became fluent in his silent language. I found it’s the small changes in his body language and expressions that scream the loudest.

They’re also often the most important ones that he needs to be heard, but they are almost always missed by the people closest to him.

My heart lodges in my throat when the ice melts in his eyes and he stands from the low plastic chair. The combination of my building pleasure and turbulent emotions as he walks to me wreaks havoc on my body. It’s like I’m being pulled in two different directions from the inside.

He tilts my head up by my chin with two fingers. The way Rafferty is looking at me almost makes me forget how to breathe. It’s the one thing I’ve known how to do since birth, but he can make me forget the basic function with a single stare.

“It’s real,” he murmurs so softly it almost gets lost in the music. “Fuck, Posie, it’s always been real. That’s why it feels good even when it fucking hurts.”

I willingly gave him up to protect Paxton and it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I never thought I would get him back, and for years I struggled to come to terms with the loss. It was like a death that needed to be mourned. This very moment is one I would dream of at night to soothe the shredded pieces left of my heart. It felt like such a wild impossibility that I would wake up sad that I’d let myself imagine it. It was akin to torture. Now that I’ve been faced with the real thing, I’m struggling to believe it’s actually happening until Rafferty’s lips crash into mine.

It’s a toe-curling kiss, but I can hear the silent promise in it. This is his way of promising me he meant everything he said. That we are real.

I hold on to him like I’m still afraid to let go and kiss him back fervently. His hand moves from my chin to cup my cheek. The tender way his thumb swipes over my cheekbone has me fighting a smile. I love his harsh abrasiveness, but these small moments pull at my heart just the same.

While his tongue slides against mine, he ups the vibration between my legs to a level that steals my ability to function. His arms wrap around me when my knees give out, holding me as I convulse, and he swallows every one of the sounds that escape my throat.

I’ve just barely come down from the flash of white-hot pleasure when I’m grappling at the button and zipper of his jeans. “Take off your pants,” I say breathlessly against his lips. “I need you right fucking now.”

As if we’re in a race against time, we tear at our clothes, and when we’re done, they’re scattered around us on the floor. Rafferty’s just barely positioned himself on his back on the ground when I’m straddling him.

Reaching between my thighs, he pulls the purple vibrator from me, making me gasp. He doesn’t bother turning the thing off and it buzzes against the floor when he tosses it aside.

His hands hold my hips as I position the tip of his dick at my opening.

“Look in the mirror,” he orders gruffly. “Watch yourself as you ride my cock and see for yourself how fucking beautiful you are while you do it.”

The only answer I can give him is a jerky nod.

We collectively groan as I sink onto him. He stretches me in that borderline painful but delectable way that has me seeing stars. It’s an intoxicating feeling being filled by him. It makes me question how I went so long without it.

Fully seated on his dick, I open my eyes and look into the glass like he’d ordered. I replace him already staring at me through it, his cold eyes are on fire and they make my skin warm.

We hold each other’s stares and never look away as I ride him. His fingers are holding me in a way that will no doubt add to the bruises that have been scattered across my skin since I started staying at his house. I don’t look at them as battle wounds but badges of honor. “Rafferty Wilde fucked me so hard he left bruises” is definitely something I think is worth bragging about.

Needing more control, he wraps an arm around me, and before I know it, my world is spinning. I barely feel it when my spine collides with the hard floor because the only sensation I can focus on is him driving relentlessly into me. Head turning, I watch the perfectly sculpted and corded muscles of his body tighten and move under his skin. When I say it’s a downright beautiful sight, I mean it.

Reaching over his shoulders, I dig my nails into his back. It’s only fair I get to leave my own marks on him. The sound of him growling in my ear goes straight to my core and makes my pussy flutter. So, I do it again.

“That’s it. Make me fucking bleed, Butterfly.” His teeth nip at my neck before his tongue wipes away the burn. “I’ll wear your marks with pride.”

He hooks my leg over his hip. The new angle has my back arching off the floor and my mouth gaping in a silent gasp. He takes advantage of the new position. Dipping his head, he takes one of my nipples into his mouth. While he licks and bites, I scrape my nails up the back of his neck and into his hairline. There will be no hiding those marks with a shirt tomorrow. Everyone will be able to see them, and I’m excited about it.

Lifting his head, he takes hold of my jaw in a punishing grasp. “Do you like marking your territory, baby?”

My lips are parted as my breathing turns into labored pants, and his hold on my face forces me to keep my mouth open. I’m close again and he knows it.

“Yes,” I choke.

“Me too.” He spits in my mouth, and I groan.

I should replace the action degrading and maybe a little gross, but I love it. It wasn’t until he spit his drink into my mouth at the poker game that I realized I enjoyed it. He has a way of forcing me to discover my hidden kinks, and I’m curious what else we’ll uncover together. As of right now, I’m just convinced I’ll like anything he does to my body.

His thumb wipes the saliva that landed on my bottom lip off before he crushes his mouth to mine. Our tongues tangle and our teeth clash in a messy kiss until we’re both so close to the edge, we’re panting and sharing oxygen.

I succumb to the euphoria first, and this time he doesn’t try to quiet the sounds that erupt from my throat. He lets them join the melody of the music coming out of the speakers. I’m so blinded by the sensations taking over my body, I can barely hear the song that’s playing. It’s a distant sound, like I’m submerged underwater.

Rafferty follows suit. He grunts, missing his next thrust and messing up the rhythm he’d set for himself. Hand back on my hip, his cock drives deeply into me and that’s where he stays as he comes. His cum coating my walls in hot surges, making us both moan.

The second his body allows his muscles to relax, his forehead falls against my chest. He keeps most of his body weight off me by keeping his elbow under him so he doesn’t crush me against the unforgiving floor. A smile grows on my face when I feel him press a kiss under my collarbone.

Peace and contentment settle over me, and for the first time, I don’t question it. I allow myself to freely sink into it.

This is real.