Chapter 13: Caged by the Wolf

Arabella, crouched in the corner of a souvenir shop, her face shielded by a spread-open newspaper. She peeked over the top, watching Rafael bulldoze his way through clusters of tourists. His booming voice carried across the terminal.

"Arabella! Arabella!" He sounded like a man possessed, calling out her name with the desperate insistence of a child searching for his lost kite.

Her stomach churned with both fear and irritation. Was he incapable of subtlety? Every passing second was a game of chance, her heart hammering with the knowledge that he could spot her at any moment. She glanced at her watch—20 minutes until boarding.

With a deep breath, Arabella threw down the newspaper and made a break for the gate, weaving through the crowd like a needle through fabric. Her pulse raced as she spotted Levi ahead, waving frantically. Relief flooded her—until she noticed the look on his face.

Why did Levi look like he was about to burst into tears? Was he signaling her to turn around? Or was he telling her to hurry up?

And then, out of nowhere, Rafael appeared like a predator springing from the shadows, blocking her path.

"Baby, I knew you'd come back," he said smugly, as if her attempt at escape had been nothing more than a flirtatious game. Before she could spin on her heel and run, his hand shot out, capturing her wrist like a steel cuff.

"Let me go!" Arabella shouted, her voice rising above the din of the airport.

"Nope. You owe me two nights a week."

With that, he lifted her as though she weighed nothing and slung her over his shoulder. Her hair spilled down his back, and she flailed against him, kicking and pounding her fists in furious protest.

"Put me down, you sicko! Put me down!"

Rafael turned his charming smile to the stunned crowd, some of whom were laughing and pulling out their phones to record the spectacle. "Don't worry, everyone. She's my wife. She's just a little jealous."

"Jealous?!" Arabella screeched, twisting in his grip. "I'm going to kill you!"

Rafael chuckled, unbothered by her threats. He strode confidently toward the exit, her protests only feeding his amusement.

"Baby," he said, his voice dropping to a teasing drawl, "we have a deal. Don't worry, our first night will be special. I promise."

"Over my dead body!" she spat, struggling harder.

"Your body won't be dead with me over you. Trust me. You ever see a fish on dry land?" He chuckled at his own joke, his tone maddeningly light. "Imagine your body flipping like that."

Arabella let out a frustrated scream, pounding his back with renewed vigor. "You're insane!"

"And you're mine," he said, his grin widening.

The doors slid open as Rafael stepped into the brisk morning air, heading for his car. Arabella's screams echoed behind him, but he didn't care. The game was over, and she was his prize.

The car door swung open with a sharp creak, and Rafael dumped Arabella unceremoniously into the passenger seat. Before she could scramble out, he leaned over, retrieving a pair of handcuffs from behind the seat, and secured her wrist to the car's handle with a resounding click.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, twisting against the unyielding metal. Her struggles only fueled his maddening smirk as he slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut.

"No can't do, baby," Rafael said coolly, starting the engine with a roar.

Arabella's curses filled the confined space, and she yanked furiously at the handcuff, rattling it against the handle. Rafael exhaled through his nose, his patience thinning, and reached for the radio dial. With a swift twist, the volume exploded to its maximum, drowning out her voice. The car vibrated with thundering bass, and Arabella, defeated, sank back into her seat, glaring daggers at him while trying to catch her breath.

He drove for hours, the city melting into rolling countryside and then into coastal roads flanked by the endless blue of the ocean. Arabella's fury eventually gave way to exhaustion, her head drooping as sleep overtook her. Rafael stole a glance at her slackened features, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Finally," he muttered under his breath, turning down the radio.

When they arrived at his secluded beach house in Nantasket, the sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the sleek modern villa perched on the shore. Rafael parked the car and sat for a moment, watching her sleep. Her hair framed her face, softening her usual fire. A pang of something he refused to name stirred in his chest, but he quickly brushed it aside.

With deliberate care, he uncuffed her wrist, noting the faint red mark the metal had left on her skin. He gathered her into his arms, carrying her limp form inside the house. The weight of her against his chest was oddly grounding, her steady breaths brushing against his neck.

The villa was designed like a fortress—every door and window equipped with secure locks. Rafael laid Arabella gently on the king-sized bed in the master bedroom, pausing to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake.

"Sleep while you can, little fox," he murmured. "Tomorrow, the wolf catches up."

He made his rounds, locking every possible exit with the precision of a man who knew exactly how far his prey would go to escape. Satisfied, he returned to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe to watch her for a moment.

There was no way out this time. No crowded airports, no meddling friends. She was here, with him, and there was nowhere to run. A slow smile curved his lips.

Arabella Blake might be fire incarnate, but even fire could be tamed—if the wolf was persistent enough.

Arabella blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the unfamiliar room. The walls were painted a soothing cream, the bed beneath her plush and luxurious, but the faint scent of the ocean outside reminded her she wasn't anywhere near home. The events of the previous night slammed into her memory like a tidal wave. Her heart raced as she glanced at her wrist, remembering the cold bite of the handcuff.

"Looking for this?"

Her head whipped toward the doorway. Rafael stood there, casual and composed, a smirk playing on his lips. Dangling from his fingers were the very handcuffs that had bound her, their metallic clink making her stomach churn.

"Sorry," he said, tossing them to the floor with an infuriating chuckle. "I don't like using them in bed."

Arabella's jaw dropped. She scrambled to sit upright, the sheet clutched tightly to her chest.

"Can we talk this over?" she stammered, her voice rising in desperation. "I mean, come on—I have no experience! None! I'm no good at this."

Rafael crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his smirk deepening. "Not a big deal. I'm here for the jackpot, baby."

He moved toward her, and she backed away inch by inch, her spine pressing into the headboard.

"How about this?" she tried again, her voice wobbling. "I'll—I'll find you another girl. Someone more beautiful, more...experienced. Okay?"

His laugh was low, dangerous, as he perched on the edge of the bed. "Baby, I only want you. You signed the contract. And if you don't honor it..." He paused, his smile turning wicked. "I'll take it to the press. They'd have a full day of celebrations if it comes out, wouldn't they?"

"PERVERT!" she shouted, her voice shaking. "That would be scandalous! My reputation—my life—would be ruined!"

"Then relax," he murmured, leaning closer, his voice a silky trap. "And be mine."

Arabella wanted to scream, but her words came out a whisper. "You...you're unbelievable. Fine! But—but you have to use protection. I don't want to get pregnant."

"No problem." His grin widened. "I brought a box of strawberry-flavored condoms. Just for you."

She gawked at him, horrified. "You're disgusting! Sicko! And the lights—they stay off. I don't want to see...your banana."

"But baby," he teased, his voice dripping with mock sweetness, "I want to see all of you. The lights stay on."

"No!" she shot back, her cheeks flaming. "Off! It's embarrassing. Don't be an inconsiderate partner!"

Rafael burst out laughing, his head tilting back with amusement. "Baby, I can't believe you read the global PERVERT survey."

"I didn't read it!" she snapped. "Levi told me!"

"Well," Rafael said, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "you're not going to be part of that 70% if that's what you're worried about. I'll make sure of it."

"That's not what I meant!" she hissed, blushing furiously.

Rafael moved closer, his weight dipping the mattress as he reached for her. Arabella froze, her knees drawn to her chin. His hand touched her leg, gently easing it down. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as he shifted closer, his warmth radiating like a predator closing in on its prey.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, her voice trembling. "You're scaring me, jerk."

"I can't help it," he said, his voice a low growl. His gaze roved over her, hungry and unrelenting. "You're so beautiful. And you smell so good...like strawberries."

He leaned down, his face brushing against her neck as he inhaled deeply, his eyes sliding closed as though savoring her scent. Arabella stiffened, her pulse pounding like a drum.

He was a madman. A lunatic. And here she was, trapped in his den, at the mercy of the wolf.

Arabella turned her face to the side, pressing her cheek into the cool pillow, her eyes tightly shut as if it could block out the sheer absurdity of her situation. Her heart thudded against her ribs like a drumbeat of warning. She didn't dare peek, not even when she felt the first tentative tug on her blouse, the small buttons slipping free with a meticulous slowness that felt deliberate—teasing.

Her hands twitched at her sides. If only there were a fork or anything sharp nearby, she thought desperately. But the room was barren of weapons, and her body betrayed her, lying there motionless. She flinched as Rafael's hands brushed against her, strong yet maddeningly gentle, lifting her torso just enough to unhook the clasp of her bra. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, as if that could shield her from the reality of his gaze.

Cool air ghosted across her skin as the last barrier was stripped away. Her breath caught, panic rising in her throat like a tidal wave. Holy God, she thought, mortified. I'm completely naked.

Images filled her mind—Rafael's face, predatory, his expression smug and victorious like a wolf surveying its captured prey. The humiliating thought spurred her into action. Her hands shot up to cover her chest, a futile attempt to regain a shred of modesty, even as her cheeks burned hotter than fire.

"Baby," Rafael's voice came low and taunting, pulling her out of her chaotic thoughts. "The damage is done. I've seen your apples already."

Her cheeks flamed at the ridiculous metaphor.

"Open your eyes," he coaxed, his voice dark velvet and impossible to ignore. "Aren't you curious how my body works on yours?"

"Shut up!" she snapped, her voice wobbling. "I'm not looking at you. Just...just get it over with!"

"So demanding," he drawled, a teasing lilt in his tone that made her want to scream. "I didn't know your fire burned faster than mine."

"No!" she shot back, flustered and furious. "I didn't mean—ugh! It doesn't matter. You're going to tease me regardless, aren't you? Just—just hurry up!"

He chuckled, a deep, maddening sound that sent shivers racing down her spine. "Alright, but hold on. I'm putting on the condom. Strawberry-flavored, of course, unless..." He let the words hang in the air, his voice dropping an octave. "Unless you want it raw."

"Shut up!" she hissed, trembling with a mix of rage and mortification.

"Okay," he purred. "I'm ready."

Arabella felt the bed shift as he moved, his weight settling partially over her, warm and insistent. Her breath came in shallow bursts as his lips found her skin, pressing kisses to her chest. Her hands flew up instinctively to cover herself again, only for him to catch them in his own and push them back down.

"Don't," he whispered, his voice a mix of command and seduction. "If you cover up again, baby, I'll bite it off."

She froze, his words both terrifying and absurd, and for a moment, she wasn't sure whether to cry or laugh.

"Rafael..." she finally whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm scared."

"Open your eyes," he murmured again, softer this time, as if it were a plea.

"Will that stop my fear?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Yes," he promised, his voice steady.

She hesitated, her lashes fluttering. She wasn't sure what scared her more—the man hovering over her or the power he seemed to have over her. But slowly, shakily, she opened her eyes.

And found herself staring into his.

They were impossibly dark, filled with something she couldn't name but felt down to her very core. A storm of emotion—possessiveness, desire, something almost...vulnerable. It wasn't what she expected, and for a moment, it stunned her into stillness.

"There you go," he murmured, his voice softer than before. "See? Not so scary, is it?"

Arabella swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Scary? He was terrifying. But not in the way she'd imagined.

The low flicker of the lamp cast shadows across his bare chest, the definition of his muscles stark and sculpted like the carved relief of a master sculptor's creation. His chest moved with the steady rhythm of his breath, each rise and fall drawing her attention and quickening her pulse.

Heat rose to her cheeks, her heart thudding in her chest. He was raw masculinity, his features so rugged yet refined that she felt as though she were gazing upon something forbidden. Her gaze traveled downward—slowly, hesitantly—until she froze. Her breath hitched audibly, and her hand flew to cover her mouth, stifling a gasp.

Levi her best friend had been wrong with all his assumptions, she thought frantically, her mind spinning. Surely this was too much. It would break her. No, it would split her in two!

"Rafael!" she managed to cry out, her voice a mix of panic and something unspoken. She tried to shift backward, to put space between them, but his large hands were firm on either side of her, caging her in. He shifted, his hips pressing down, and his weight pinned her effortlessly to the mattress.

"Shh, Arabella," he murmured, his voice low, a velvet thread of reassurance woven with a hint of amusement. His lips quirked into a half-smile as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her flushed face. "Relax. Trust me."

Before she could argue, his lips claimed hers. It was not the tentative kiss of a man testing boundaries but a deep, consuming kiss that stole her thoughts and left her utterly breathless. His mouth was hot and commanding, coaxing hers to respond, and when she did, it felt like giving in to something both dangerous and exhilarating.

Arabella felt the sheer weight of him as he pressed her into the soft bedding, his presence overwhelming. The warmth of his skin against hers sent jolts of awareness racing through her. His lips moved from hers, trailing a searing path down her jaw, to the sensitive curve of her neck. She gasped...

Imagine the rest readers :)...