When our passion finally ebbed, we lay tangled in each other’s arms, our bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. I had never felt so alive, so completely consumed by someone.
Raphael had prepared the best for me—every touch, every kiss, was a testament to how much he desired me.
“You look messy,” he chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.
His expression had softened, but there was still that gleam of pride and possession in his eyes. “Go clean yourself up and fix your makeup before you go downstairs. We don’t want anyone to suspect anything, do we?”
“Of course.” I nodded, forcing a smile. But something tightened in my chest at his words.
Was he ashamed of me? Or was he only worried about his reputation?
Raphael leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Good girl. You did so well. Thank you for this precious graduation gift, my love.”
I watched him put his clothes back on, his movements graceful and unbothered.
And as he left the room with that same easy confidence, the door closing softly behind him, I felt something unsettling swirl within me.
Maybe it was just the afterglow. Or maybe it was something else entirely.