Their Queenpin (The Ridge MC #6)

Chapter 11Rafe

Chapter Eleven

Rafe

Adelina unbuttoned my pants before sinking to her knees. Before I knew it, she had my cock freed and was licking her lips as she ran her thumb over my slit. Her doe-like eyes flitted up to meet mine, and I was lost as soon as her tongue flicked out to lick my precum from her thumb.

I tipped my face up to the sun and let out a long groan before focusing on her again. “You’re going to kill me.”

Graff joined us. “Death by orgasm. Can’t think of a better way to go.”

“May I?” Adelina asked in her sweetest voice.

“Tesoro, you’re not going to have a choice before long.”

“Wait,” called Graff. “Stand up.”

She did, looking at him with confusion, but leaving her right hand circled around my length. It took all my willpower to hold still, to not fuck her hand as Graff circled around behind her. While holding her hip to keep her legs straight, he pushed her forward. She hinged at the waist, her face coming level with my aching dick.

“Go ahead,” Graff ordered.

Thoughts about what he was doing evaporated as her warm, wet mouth and tongue working the underside of my cock. Shit, I was acting like a boy in my late teens with this recovery. I’d come twice before, but my balls were tight with the need for another release.

Graff slipped his hands into the elastic at her waist and freed her from the shorts and swimsuit bottoms she still wore. He dipped his hand down behind her ass. “Damn, so fucking drenched.”

Adelina moaned around my cock, and I had to bite down to keep from becoming two-minute Tim and losing my load before we even got going. Instead, I slipped my fingers into her dark hair and gathered it away from to watch her face as she sucked me into her throat, hollowing her cheeks.

Then, she opened her throat and took me even deeper.

“Holy shit.” I panted. Where the hell had she learned to do this so fucking good?

Graff worked Adelina’s pussy with one hand while he slipped his trunks down and let his heavy cock pop free. He gathered her juices and stroked himself, and damn, he was thick, the head nearly purple.

Adelina pulled back, catching my cock with her hand when she turned her head and pleaded, “Graff, please. I need to be full.”

“You will be, bella, so soon. But you’re not finished there.” He nodded to me.

Her hand worked up and down my length, and I wrapped her small fingers in mine, quickening the strokes. She brought her lips back, licking them before parting and allowing me back inside.

“Fuck,” I said on a breath, then sucked in another gulp of air, willing myself to last.

Graff stroked the crown up and down her slit again and again until he seemed satisfied and then latched onto her hips and drove into her, hissing through his teeth.

“Damn, you’re so tight, pretty girl,” he said.

She froze for a second.

“You’ve gotta relax. Let me in,” Graff coaxed.

And then she did. Adelina moaned on my cock again, and I lost control. My hips started bucking, my forward thrusts driven by need and desire and more for this woman. I held her head as I fucked her face, craving that moment when I would find my release in her. Needing all of this. Us—all three of us—and whatever semblance of love we might find in this bonding.

Adelina’s body was going lax, quickening, and Graff held onto her hips as he thrust into her at the same rhythm I drove into her throat.

Adelina’s hands dropped to my thighs, bracing herself, and I held her head steady.

Graff’s eyes locked with mine. “She’s gonna come,” he said between breaths.

She let go of my thigh with one hand and reached back to toy with her own clit. I growled, wanting my hand there instead. By the guttural sound Graff released, I’m sure he wanted the pleasure as well. Neither of us wanted to let her go. Or would. All we managed was to ride out our ecstasy with this beautiful girl stretched out between us.

Adelina, too, sat on the verge of losing herself to the gratification we were driving from her body.

I growled and fucked her face harder, the last threads of my control snapping.

She mewled around my cock, and then her orgasm ripped through her body so hard it made her throat clench.

“That’s it,” said Graff. “So goddamn pretty when you come on my dick.”

He kept fucking her, a muscle jumping in his jaw as I watched his tight expression.

With a couple more strokes into her beautiful mouth, I let out a long, low growl as I fucking came, my cum washing straight into her belly.

My eyes drifted shut as I soared and then floated down from the high, my cock twitching and spurting into our gorgeous little princess. Graff waited for me to recover and then his body went rigid too. He roared his orgasm so loudly it echoed off the cliffs as my cock finished emptying itself into Adelina’s throat.

She panted through her nose, her eyes closed as she still trembled in our grip. I pulled out as soon as I gained enough control, holding Adelina under the arms while Graff’s release ran its course. Dropping to my knees, I gave her my shoulders to hold on to. She wrapped her arms around my neck, clawing at me to bring me closer.

“Kiss me, Rafe,” she begged.

I slanted my mouth over hers, tasting my saltiness on her tongue. The tang of it made me kiss her harder as though I would crawl inside her. I brought a hand up to cup her face, brushing away the wet tears on her cheeks. My kisses grew softer, sweeter, more sated.

Breaking our kiss, I asked, “Are you okay?”

“Better than.” Her eyes sparkled, and I needed to taste her again.

Graff lowered to his knees so that she was sitting on his lap, his cock still buried inside her. Meanwhile, I showered her with long, deep kisses until Adelina pulled back and rested her forehead against mine. After a few breaths, she whispered, “I think I’m a little in love with you, Rafe.”

I chuckled, unable to believe that possibility. “It’s”—I furrowed my brows, because that stabbed me right through the chest—“too soon.”

“It’s not. You’ve been with me all my life,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with me loving you. Nothing unnatural, and you fucking deserve all the love in the world.”

I wanted to tell her I loved her too, but I the knot in my throat wouldn’t allow words to pass.

“It’s okay,” she said, running her hand down my jawline. Then she planted a sweet kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I know.”

As though she knew how close to tears I was, she turned and smacked Graff playfully. “Help me up, would ya?”

A tear rolled down the side of my nose, and I swiped it away. She was giving Graff a tender moment too. I turned away to dress, now in more awe over the capacity this woman had to draw us all in and show us all how deeply her need and desire for us ran.

We cleaned up, and I drove us back to Vegas. We had to go back at some point, but I still didn’t push the pedal down very hard. In fact, cars passed us left and right.

The windows were cracked, allowing in a cool breeze. Graff had whipped out his sketchbook, and Adelina had her chin resting on his shoulder. She dragged her finger across the lines of one of his sketches.

The one showing on the page seemed abstract. I didn’t think he even knew what he was drawing half the time. It was like creativity took over, and he went with it. I never had such talent.

Then again, any art I may have attempted would’ve been beaten out of me by my father at a young age. The Mafia enjoyed beautiful things, but we were never supposed to be the ones to create.

Adelina drew her hair back. It smelled of the sex and the outside but still berries from her shampoo. She’d never been a perfume wearer like her mother, Neomi, or her sister, Caterina. Thank goodness, because I much preferred her clean and slightly fruity scent.

“Is this why you always have a sketchbook handy?” asked Adelina, turning the page.

“I have to practice, or I’ll get to be a shitty tattoo artist.” Graff laughed. “Rafe, when we doing your sleeve?”

I glanced in the rearview mirror as a car came up on us. It passed us quickly on the highway. “I’m still not sure what I want.”

“What did you want before?” asked Adelina, flipping back her unruly hair. It flew everywhere around her with the windows down.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You have to know,” she pushed. “You can’t want a generic sleeve.”

“I trust Graff. He should draw up something.” I shrugged, a bit shocked those words fell out of my mouth.

Trust wasn’t something I gave easily after my upbringing and time in the Middle East, but I did trust Graff. A lot. Maybe too much.

“You have to give me something to go on,” said Graff. “It’ll be part of you forever.”

I snorted. “How much did you consider each of the tattoos on you before you made them permanent?”

Graff let out a howl of laughter. “Fair point. But I’ll cover them up if I get tired of them.”

“You could do the same for me?” I suggested.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea for you, Rafe,” said Adelina, and I raised my eyebrows to her. “Graff’s tats are him wearing his art. Yours should be different. More you.”

Her voice wasn’t accusatory. However, it still scratched at me and made me wonder what other comparisons she drew in her brain. Did she like one of us better than the others?

Surely, she had to like Sas the most—he was her husband. But Graff was caring. Sweet. Happy. It’s possible he even covered himself in tattoos to cover up the fact that he was so happy and carefree.

The easiness in him certainly wasn’t the norm around the club.

After musing a moment, Adelina said, “None of you are alike.”

Her tone almost sounded absentminded as she leaned back into the bench seat and wiggled around like she was trying to get comfortable.

Graff nudged her. “Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.” He wore one of his kind smiles again.

“It’s not.” She laid her palm against his thigh and her other one on mine. “Not a bad thing at all.”

I cleared my throat as Vegas came into view, a disturbing reminder of what we were driving back into. “What are we going to say to your father about our little situation?”

“What situation?” she asked nonchalantly.

My mouth opened, ready to explain, but the words jammed in my throat again. What situation did I mean, exactly? The four of us or that he would have to accept the fact that his little brother had a thing for his daughter?

Adelina narrowed her gaze on me, anger flashing in her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Papà.”

I began again, “He will?—”

“Do nothing! We’re not going to tell him anything about us. He doesn’t have any goddamn right to know.” She slumped back in the seat, crossing her arms. “And why would he give a shit?”

“Your father will?—”

“Just fucking stop, Rafe!” She balled her hands into fists, and Graff took one of them in his large hands. They took deep breaths together, and finally, Adelina said in a calmer tone, “I will deal with my father. I’ve been dealing with him my whole life, so that’s nothing new.”

I swallowed. She hadn’t been the only one dealing with Massimo Parisi her whole life.

“I can help too,” I offered.

She gave a curt shake of her head. “You focus on getting the diamonds and coming back to me in one piece.” Her bottom lip trembled; she was too close to falling apart again.

Where was the unbreakable girl I once knew? At the time, she didn’t have anyone besides her sister to care about. She had been selfish and preferred to stay away from everyone, as though she would catch the plague from them. But, if she was seeing the same things I was, she had to hope. To see that family had broader meaning and depth than Massimo and Ivo imparted.

Yeah, hope was there, hovering in the darkness. Not only for what was growing between the two of us, but Graff and Sas too. Finding the MC as well—a family to replace La Famiglia once and for all.

I’d changed too, but I didn’t know yet if it was for the better.

I was a broken man. Shards that’d been glued together with school paste rather than something hard like epoxy. Sas had a hardened shell, but hard things broke too. I just didn’t know what kind of hell he’d seen. Then there was Graff, who wore his past openly, but there was more to him that I couldn’t place yet. Like he was constantly trying to create a new version of himself.

It was wrong for me to need Adelina to be strong, but it wasn’t only for me. Or Graff or Sas. She needed to do it for herself because with everything she faced—deployment, jail, death, whatever—I feared she might end up with only herself.