A Beautiful Mistake: A Mafia Romance

CHAPTER 11

FRANKIE

I stand in my bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes trace over the new bruises blooming on my hands and legs, but that's not what's bothering me right now. No, it's the fact that Rafael left me hanging. I was so close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, and he ripped it away from me after giving me my first taste of oral pleasure. No man had ever gone down on me before, and I had heard how amazing it was supposed to be. Rafael lived up to all the hype and more - it was beyond anything I could have imagined. But then he left me aching and unsatisfied, and now, for the first time in my life, I'm contemplating taking matters into my own hands.

God, too many firsts were happening with Rafael. I know he warned me, but the burning need between my legs is driving me to distraction. I can't simply bathe and go back to sleep - I doubt I could walk ten feet without rubbing my thighs together in desperation. Besides, how will he know if I indulge just this once? I'll just pretend I'm still hot and needy for him when I see him next.

“f**k!” I moan, the sound escaping my lips as I slip a finger into myself. The sensation is electric—partly from the lingering wetness Rafael’s touch left behind and partly from the ache that still throbs between my legs. I can’t tell if it’s his touch or the pain he inflicted that’s fueling my desperation. It’s probably a heady mix of both. My patience has run thin; I’m consumed by need. I quickly add a second finger, thrusting in and out with a frantic rhythm, the pace driven by my overwhelming desire. My thoughts are a tangle of images of Rafael—his touch, his taste, the way he made me feel—imagining that it’s his hands working me over, bringing me to the brink. I yearn for nothing more than for him to be here with me, making this moment all the more intense and fulfilling.

Just as the pressure in my belly reaches a fever pitch, the bathroom door swings open with a jarring crash. My body freezes, my hand pauses mid-thrust, and my eyes widen in shock as I look up to see who has intruded on my private moment.

“My, oh my,” Rafael’s voice rings out, both amused and surprised, as he stands in the doorway. He’s holding something in his hand, his posture casual yet commanding. I immediately try to retract my hand, my movements awkward and hasty as I clench my thighs together in a futile attempt to hide my vulnerability.

Rafael’s gaze locks onto me, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and desire. The sudden intrusion, the embarrassment, and the heat of the moment collide, leaving me breathless and exposed.

"It's not what you think," I stammer, face burning with embarrassment. "I was just, um, checking to make sure everything was clean down there."

"With two fingers?" he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights back a smile. I nod vigorously, and he bursts into laughter. The sound is both humiliating and oddly comforting.

"I swear," I continue to lie, even though I know it's futile at this point.

"Here," Rafael says, holding out whatever he's carrying. I rush to grab it from him, nearly slipping on the tile floor in my haste. His strong arms catch me, steadying me against his solid chest. I try to ignore how much I enjoy the feeling of his body heat enveloping me.

"Be careful," he murmurs, his breath tickling my ear as he sets me back on my feet. I nod, unable to meet his eyes.

"What's this for?" I ask, examining the small bottle in my hand. It appears to be some kind of cream or ointment.

I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard. "It's for the bruises. And, uh, for your...backside."

"Oh. Thank you," I reply softly, touched by his thoughtfulness despite my embarrassment.

"Also, get ready," Rafael says, unwrapping his arms from around me. "We leave in an hour."

"Alright," I nod, watching as he turns to leave. As the door clicks shut behind him, I'm left wondering where on earth we could be going and how I'm going to face him after what just happened. With a sigh, I set the cream on the counter and step into the shower, resigning myself to a very cold rinse.

***

I stand up carefully, giving Julio a small smile as I make my way to the bathroom. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps as I navigate the luxurious interior of Rafael's private jet. It's not my first time on board - James had used this very aircraft when he kidnapped Melina and me previously. The irony isn't lost on me that I'm once again a passenger, though under different circumstances.

As I walk, my mind wanders to James. I haven't seen him since this latest abduction, and I can't help but wonder where he is. Part of me hopes he's suffering wherever he ended up. The bastard caused my sister and me so much pain, all for his own selfish gain.

The gentle hum of the engines fills the cabin as I reach the lavatory. We've been in the air for a couple of hours now, though I've lost track of the exact time. Thanks to my eavesdropping on Rafael and Julio's conversation earlier, I at least know we're headed to Mexico.

Rafael hasn't said or done anything about catching me disobeying his orders earlier. The anticipation of his eventual reaction has me on edge - I know it's only a matter of time before he addresses my disobedience.

I finish using the bathroom and glance at my reflection in the mirror. The bruise on my neck from yesterday has nearly healed, thanks to the cream Rafael gave me. My fingers drift to my lips, absently touching them as a troubling thought crosses my mind. Would Rafael only ever use my mouth to find his release and nothing more?

It’s not that I desire a kiss or anything of that sort, but I can’t help but wonder about the boundaries of our arrangement. Our agreement is clear in its nature, but I can’t shake the question of whether this means our interactions are strictly limited to physical satisfaction in specific ways. I brush the thought aside, focusing instead on the practical. I adjust the sleeves of my shirt to conceal the fading bruises on my arms, wanting to mask any lingering evidence of our more intense moments.

I spin around unlocking the bathroom door, but as I turn it, someone beats me to it, and the door swings open abruptly. Rafael steps inside, his presence commanding and intense. Before I can react, he closes the door behind him with a decisive thud, his gaze locking onto mine with an unsettling intensity.

In one fluid motion, he backs me against the wall, the cool, smooth surface of the tiles pressing against my front. My heart races as I process the sudden shift in the atmosphere. My body is pinned between him and the cold wall of the room, the abruptness of the movement leaving me momentarily disoriented.

“What’s going on?” I manage to whisper, my voice trembling slightly as I try to read the expression on his face. The uncertainty of his intentions makes the air thick with tension, and I can’t help but feel a mixture of fear and curiosity about what this unexpected confrontation might lead to.