The Foiled Plan (War of Sins Book 2)

That night, for the first time, I block everything, my body almost on autopilot. He’s his usual attentive self, kissing every inch of skin as he seeks to wring pleasure from my body.

Yet I can’t.

I lay there, my mind a whirlpool of confusion, and I can’t feel anything. I let him make love to me, but instead of joy and excitement, I feel an overwhelming sense of bleakness.

He entices me with his mouth, teasing and nibbling, and I can’t react.

I simply can’t.

And for the first time ever, I fake an orgasm, wanting everything to be over—wanting him to get away from me. Even as he thrusts into me, what I would have otherwise welcomed more than anything, now feels like the worst type of stabbing pain.

He seeks my lips, brushing his against mine in a sweet kiss before leaning back to watch me.

I blink back tears as I realize I can’t even look at him. Instead, I ask him to switch positions—take me from behind so I won’t have to see him and his expression. So I won’t fool myself when it’s becoming increasingly clear that I’ve been blind to his affection the entire time.

He cares for me. I won’t deny that. But you care for a sister. You care for a friend…

You don’t care for your wife.

I lay on my belly, his grunts in my ears as I just wait for it all to end. One more thrust and he empties himself into me, collapsing over my body as he breathes harshly against my skin.

‘I’ll go clean up,’ I murmur, disentangling myself from him.

I spend more time in the bathroom, knowing it won’t take long for him to fall asleep. Only when I know he’s out do I join him in bed, staring at the ceiling and realizing fairytales aren’t real. Muffling the sound of my cries, I tell myself that I can take anything he gives me. That I can love him for the both of us.

But I fear it’s just another lie….

The following morning, I’m up before him, taking Lovely for a walk and trying to clear my head. I won’t be able to solve anything if I keep everything bottled inside. More than anything, I know the issue will continue to bother me if I don’t address it with him.

I need to know why.

My mind made up, I go back to the house just in time to find him building a dog house for Lovely.

As if he couldn’t imprint himself even more in my heart…

‘Raf?’ Holding Lovely in my arms, I head to his side.

‘There is our little baby,’ he says as he gets up, coming closer to lay a kiss on top of Lovely’s head. ‘You’re a good fur mamma, pretty girl,’ he winks at me, and immediately I feel my cheeks heat up.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, trying to look away from him.

He’s wearing a tank top that displays his muscular arms, sweat clinging to him and glistening in the sun—all making him look like a golden Adonis.

Scooping Lovely from my arms, he places him at the entrance of the mini-house.

‘What do you think?’ He asks, amused.

Lovely limps inside, immediately curling down on the cushion Raf had set for him. He gives a cute woof before snuggling closer.

‘He likes it,’ I add, a genuine smile on my lips

‘You like it, don’t you?’ he pats him on the head playfully.

‘Raf…’ I take a deep breath. ‘Can I see you in the bedroom in five minutes?’

He frowns at my words but eventually nods.

My fists clenched, I head back to the house first, going straight for the room and opening the drawer. Sure enough, the necklace is still inside.

Taking it out, I palm it, an odd sensation enveloping me as I touch it. The stone is yellow-brownish, the sun hitting it and making it sparkle. Though I am mesmerized by the sight, I refuse to look at it more than I need to. After all, it’s a reminder that he’s not mine—at least not fully.

‘Pretty girl?’ His voice echoes in the room as he steps inside.

His eyes widen as he spots the necklace in my hand.

‘What…’

‘Why do you have this, Raf?’ I do my best to control my voice, but it still comes out shaky.

He wastes no time in striding over to me, grabbing it from my hands.

‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ he says, though he won’t look me in the eye.

‘You said you got rid of it.’

‘I said I stopped wearing it, not that I got rid of it.’

‘But… Why? Why would you still keep it?’

‘Why would I throw it away?’ He counters.

‘You said…’ I take a deep breath. ‘You said she was in the past. But how can I believe she’s truly in the past if you have her necklace hanging around.’

‘This was originally my necklace,’ he explains. ‘My mother gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday,’ he continues, and I frown at the explanation.

‘But…’

‘You don’t have to worry about it, I promise you.’ He drops to his knees in front of me, one hand cupping my cheek as he turns me to face him. ‘It’s just a memory.’

‘I don’t want you thinking about her,’ I whisper, biting my lip.

‘She’s dead, Noelle. You’re here, with me. You are my wife.’

I blink.

His voice is full of conviction, yet why do I feel like I can’t trust his words?

‘That’s the issue, Raf. She is dead. You never got any closure and I worry that in time you’ll keep yearning for her.’

He shakes his head vehemently.

‘No. I told you, pretty girl. She’s my past and you are my future. There’s nothing else to it.’

His tone suggests that he wants me to drop the issue. Yet how can I when I feel like he’s not telling me everything? When I can see that no matter how many assurances he gives me, a part of his heart might be forever out of reach to me—forever hers.

How can I sit still, even knowing that?

‘Why did you lie to me, then? Why did you say it was your watch when it wasn’t?’

My eyes on his, I note the sudden tension in his features.

‘I didn’t want you to worry,’ he replies in a low voice.

‘You lied,’ I repeat, my voice breaking.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says quietly. ‘I really didn’t want you to think too much of it. It wasn’t with ill intent.’

‘I want to believe you. But I don’t want to be second best to a ghost, Raf,’ I whisper.

‘You’re not. God, you’re not,’ he groans, bringing my face closer to his for a kiss. ‘You’re not,’ he repeats against my lips.

I don’t reply, merely nodding and forcing a smile on my face.

He takes me in his arms, murmuring sweet words in my ears as he slowly undresses me.

He makes love to me like he does love me.

But he never says the words.

I gasp for air, my eyes snapping wide open as I take in my surroundings.

I’m home. I’m safe. I’m not…

For a while now, it’s always been the same dream.

I’m standing over a bloody corpse, a knife in my hand as I look smugly at my surroundings. I know it’s me, yet it doesn’t feel like it.

My entire body is covered in sweat as I drag the sheet off my body. But as awareness creeps in, I realize I’m alone.

Alone in our room.

‘Raf?’ I call out, thinking he’s in the bathroom. ‘Raf, it’s not funny,’ I add just in case he’s trying to play a trick on me.

Since the confrontation earlier in the day, things have been slightly strained between us, but I can see him trying to make it better. Until we’d gone to bed, he hadn’t left my side, doing everything in his power to make me comfortable.

If only he understood that he could do it with three words.

If he just told me he loved me, he’d put my doubts to sleep once and for all.

Grabbing my robe, I shrug it on and tie it around my middle. Knocking on the bathroom door, I open it to realize it’s empty.

Where is he?

Thinking he might have gotten hungry, I go downstairs, checking the kitchen and the ground floor. But it’s in vain. There’s absolutely no sign of him anywhere.

‘Raf?’ I call out again, this time my voice echoing in the house.

The nightly breeze brushes against my skin, making me shiver as I pull my robe tighter around me. He has to be somewhere around.

A little worried, I start looking in every room on the first floor. Yet it’s soon clear he’s not in any. What about… The second and third floors?

But what would he be doing there when they haven’t been cleaned, the rooms dusty and stale from unuse?

I become a little uneasy as I make my way up the stairs, first checking the second floor.

Nothing.

Yet it’s as I go up to the third floor that I start hearing little sounds—something akin to harsh moans.

Let by those sounds, I put one foot in front of another as I head towards the source—a room at the end of the corridor that looks to be locked from the inside.

Placing my ear to the door, though, I listen to signs of life.

‘No!’

I recognize Raf’s voice as he yells.

My eyes widen, my mind coming up with the worst scenario. Without even thinking, I dash downstairs to the pantry where there is a spare chain of keys for the entire house. I quickly grab them, running back to the third floor and trying one after another until I get the right one.

Luckily, he hadn’t left the key on the inside, so I’m able to push the door open.

But as I do, it’s to be struck by the surroundings. The room is tiny, yet clean, as if it had been prepared in advance. There’s a double bed in the middle, the sheets crisp and clean. But what shocks me the most is the sight of Raf.

He’s on the bed, one wrist chained to the bed as he writhes in pain, his hand pulling at the shackle in an attempt to free himself. A thin sheet barely covers his naked body.

‘Raf,’ I close the door shut behind me as I hurry to his side, assessing him from head to toe.

My first thought is that someone had done this to him, but it’s soon clear that he’s done it himself.

‘Raf?’ I bring my hand to his forehead to find it slick with perspiration. He’s moving around wildly in bed.

Yet as I call him out again, this time louder, his eyes snap open.

His irises are a stormy blue, his pupils out of proportions. And as he looks at me, it is as if he can barely recognize me.

‘Raf, what the hell is happening,’ I mutter to myself, immediately spotting the key to the handcuffs hidden under the nightstand.

Grabbing it, I quickly undo his cuff, throwing it aside.

‘Are you ok? What happened?’ I ask, gently massaging his wrist.

He’s not answering, merely tilting his head to the side to study me.

‘Raf,’ I take a seat on the bed next to him as I palm his cheek.

He looks…high. There’s no other explanation.

‘Let’s get you back to our bedroom and I’ll make you some tea,’ I offer, not knowing what I can do in this case.

Still, to think of Raf on drugs… It’s almost preposterous to consider such a notion. He’s lived with us for months, and never once did he give the inclination that he was on drugs.

Except…

My eyes widen when I recall the first time we’d met in my piano room—a time that he hadn’t even remembered.

His eyes had been the same as now, his pupils huge and lacking recognition.

‘Let’s go,’ I urge him gently, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the bed. ‘You’ll feel better in our own bed.’

The words are barely out of my mouth when he pulls me to him, the action rougher than what I’m used to from him.

I fall on top of him, my breasts against his hard chest.

Still, he doesn’t say anything as he regards me curiously, his other hand coming up to trace my features.

‘It’s me, Raf,’ I tell him.

His nostrils flare as he looks at me, his brows pinched in a frown.

Before I can say another word, both his hands grab at my robe, tearing at it and pulling it away.

‘Raf,’ I breathe in, surprised at his sudden aggression.

Yet I don’t get a moment of reprieve as my nightgown soon follows until I’m standing naked against him—just like he is.

Bringing his nose to the crook of my neck, he inhales deeply.

‘Mine,’ he whispers.

One hand snakes around my waist, and in no time I find myself on my back, the breath knocked out of me.

Spreading my legs, he settles himself between them, the head of his hard cock bumping against my core.

‘Raf, what are you doing?’

His eyes closed, he hovers over my face, almost as if he’s breathing me in—savoring me in a primitive way. Moving lower, he makes his way down my body, his tongue making contact with my skin as he trails it between the valley of my breasts and all the way down my stomach until he reaches my pussy.

There’s no gentleness as he dives between my legs, lapping at me like he can’t get enough. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick me thoroughly before pushing the tip against my opening.

Though surprised at the turn of events, I can’t help the way he brings my body to life, my eyes rolling back in my head as he makes me climax with just a few strokes of his tongue.

But he doesn’t stop.

Again and again, he drinks me in until I’m screaming his name.

‘I can’t…’ I whimper, my body too spent.

Bringing my hands to his hair, I tug him up, trying to get him to put me out of my misery.

‘Please, Raf…’

Rising up, he still has a blank expression on his face as he comes back to me, his lips on my neck as his fingers dig roughly into the flesh just above my hip bone.

His cock is at my entrance, the head barely inside as he half-thrusts into me before retreating. I arch my back, my arms around his neck as I open up for him, urging him to take me—slake his need on my body.

He surges within me in one go, the power of his thrust making me reel.

My mouth opens on a silent moan, my head thrown back as my nails lodge into the skin just below his shoulder blades. And as he pulls all the way out before sliding in again, I can’t help the sounds I’m making—the way I’m mewling and crying out, shouting his name loud enough to be heard in the entire house.

He’s rough—rougher than he’s ever been. But it’s appealing in a way I’d never thought possible, each stroke of his cock hitting a spot deep within me and making me gasp both in pain and in pleasure.

‘My Raf,’ I bring him to me for a kiss, my mouth opening for the thrust of his tongue as it aligns with the thrust of his cock. ‘Yes, fuck me,’ I whisper against his lips. ‘Fuck me, destroy me, do whatever you want to me but love me,’ I cry out my plea, my lashes damp with tears of exertion and too much emotion. ‘Please love me,’ I whisper on a ragged breath.

‘Mine,’ he rumbles, the only thing he’s said so far. ‘You’re mine,’ he nibbles at my lips, his eyes cold yet warm.

Without warning, he turns me around, dragging my ass towards him as he plows into me—faster, harder, deeper. His fingers find their way in my hair, digging painfully in my scalp as he yanks my head back, his teeth scraping at my earlobe.

My body starts shuddering, my pussy gripping him tightly as my channel tries to squeeze him dry. I barely contain a moan as my muscles tense, my orgasm rolling through me.

His mouth trails down my neck before he clamps his teeth down on my shoulder, biting into my flesh. The gesture is animalistic, the initial pain giving way to a surprising pleasure as he licks at the wound. I’m pretty sure he’s drawn blood, but at this point I revel at every sensation—be it pain or pleasure.

‘More,’ I whimper, and I suddenly find myself face down on the bed, his hand moving from my hair to my nape as he holds me tightly, his fingers digging into my skin and almost cutting my air supply. He pushes me harder into the mattress just as he increases the speed of his thrusts, the force doubling.

Muffled sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, as well as my ragged breath and his own harsh one echo through the room.

He surges into me so violently, I can barely make a sound as he pins me down even harder.

The corners of my eyes fill with tears, the pressure inside of me building to such a painful crescendo, it erupts into a multitude of flashes that dance before my eyes. For a moment I can’t make sense of him, or me, or how we are two separate entities.

There’s just feeling.

This joining that’s wild and feral and so exquisitely addictive it’s making every single atom in my body hum in pleasure.

He’s inside of me—so deep inside I wish he’d never leave. But more than anything, I feel him in my heart.

His hold on my throat starts to weaken as he slows his thrusts. His cock pulses inside of me, the swollen head bumping against my G-spot and eliciting a moan from me as I wrap my fingers in the sheets, trying to ground myself.

My walls close in on him, sucking him in and squeezing him dry as he climaxes. His warm release floods my insides, the feel unlike any other.

‘Fuck,’ he curses as he collapses on top of me, his arms coming around as he secures me under him, not giving me any chance to escape. ‘I love you,’ he whispers in my hair.

My eyes go wide at his words.

Turning my head to the side, sweat clings to my skin and hair as I take a big gulp of air.

‘I love you too, Raf,’ I tell him with as much emotion as I can muster. ‘I love you more than anything,’ I confess.

‘Luz,’ he murmurs, and I frown. ‘Mi luz,’ he continues, peppering kisses all over my back.

My heart stops in my chest.

Light. My light.

‘Te amo. Te quiero tanto, mi luz.’

I blink, unable to move. My entire body is frozen as my brain processes what he just said.

I love you. I love you so much, my light.