Chapter 39: Drunken Secrets

Warning: Explicit Content Ahead Rafael Vexley leaned forward, squinting dramatically at the rim of his wine glass like it held the secrets of the universe. His head swayed with the motion, his dark hair falling over one eye. "Pssst," he whispered loudly, his voice soaked in mischief and several too many drinks. "Elianaaaa." Eliana blinked at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide with exaggerated curiosity. "What?" she whispered back, like they were plotting world domination, even though they were the only two people in the kitchen. "Why are we whispering?" Rafael leaned in further, nearly toppling off his wheelchair. "I have a seeecret," he slurred, grinning like a boy caught sneaking cookies. Eliana’s mouth dropped open. "Nooo," she gasped, clutching her chest as if he hadn’t just said those exact words moments ago. "Tell me now. Immediately. Or I’ll die." "I can’t just say it," he said with a drunken shake of his head, like it was a matter of national security. "You have to earn it." "Oh, please," she giggled, pushing his shoulder lightly. "I literally peeled your pizza off the floor earlier. I earned it!" "You dropped it!" "You dropped you," she fired back, and they both exploded into laughter, the kind that made their bellies ache and eyes water. But suddenly, in the middle of their giggle fest, Eliana’s face twisted. "Uh-oh..." she said, her voice wobbling. Rafael squinted at her, still chuckling. "What? What’s that face? Why’re you making the—oh no." "I think I’m gonna throw up," Eliana whispered, blinking hard as the room began to spin. Rafael flinched like she’d pulled a knife. "Don’t you dare!" he barked, pointing a shaky finger at her. "Not in my kitchen. This is sacred territory!" Her eyes widened. "I’m serious," she groaned, clutching her stomach like it had betrayed her. "My insides are—uhh—doing gymnastics. The wine... the cheese... the mushrooms that looked weird..." "Oh, no no no no—" Rafael pushed his glass away and spun his wheelchair toward her, nearly knocking over a stool in the process. "Not here. Not on the Carrara marble. Not on my child." Eliana hiccuped, eyes glossy. "Your what?" "My kitchen," he said solemnly, placing a hand on the counter like he was swearing an oath. "She’s all I have." Eliana let out a helpless laugh. "Your priorities are insane ." "You’re insane!" he said, inching closer. "You’re the one threatening to hurl all over my very expensive appliances!" "I can’t move," she whined, flopping sideways like a tired noodle. "My legs forgot how to leg." Rafael sighed deeply, muttering, "Of course," and with great drama and minimal grace, maneuvered closer. He reached out, grabbed her by the waist, and dragged her—giggling and gasping—onto his lap. "Rafi!" she squealed. "This is a rescue mission," he declared. "From what?" "Your stomach. And my anxiety." He hit the joystick. The wheelchair zoomed forward, jerking slightly, and Eliana screamed—then immediately burst into giggles, her arms flung around his neck like he was a rollercoaster seatbelt. "You drive like a lunatic!" she shrieked. "I am a lunatic!" he yelled back, swerving around a corner. "A lunatic who cares deeply about his floors!" She was laughing so hard, she could barely breathe. "This is not how I imagined being swept off my feet!" "You didn’t specify how! That’s on you!" "Your lap is bony!" "Your face is bony!" "You flirt so weird," she gasped, pressing her forehead against his shoulder as the hallway whirled by. "I’m nailing this," he muttered proudly, barely able to keep his head straight. "Heroic, drunk, and in control. Mostly." As they sped toward the bedroom, one of the hallway paintings tilted from the force of their turn. Eliana pointed at it with wide eyes and snorted. "You made the art drunk too." "Good," Rafael said. "Now it matches the theme." With a soft whoosh, the sleek oak door of his bedroom slid open as Rafael tapped the button on his wheelchair, like magic responding to his command. "Ooooh," Eliana said, slurring the word as she blinked at the dim golden lighting. "Fancy." "Of course," Rafael said, his chin up like a dignified king. "You think this face comes with a basic room?" She giggled again—then immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh no." "Bathroom. Now!" Rafael hollered like a soldier in battle. The wheelchair rolled them straight to the en-suite bathroom, Rafael muttering curses the whole way. "If you puke on my Italian tile, I’ll never forgive you." "It’s Italian?" she asked, voice muffled by her hand. "Heated floors. Voice-activated lights. The toilet sings opera." "Whaaaaat?" she moaned. "Your toilet sings?" "Only when it’s in the mood." "Mine just...flushes." Her face scrunched again. "Oh no. It’s happening—" Rafael slammed the brakes. "Okay, okay, time to eject! Move it, Eliana!" "I can’t," she moaned. "My legs are dead. I’m gonna die here, in your lap, surrounded by technology and betrayal." "I will throw you in if I have to!" "I dare you." "You don’t think I will?" "Coward," she whispered. With exaggerated groaning, Rafael helped her slide off his lap. She landed on the floor with a dramatic thud and lay there for a moment like a fallen soldier. "I live here now," she said. "No, you vomit in there," he said, pointing toward the glowing bathroom like it was the gates of heaven. "This is your mission. Don’t fail me." She crawled—literally crawled with one hand—toward the doorway, giggling between groans. "If your toilet sings to me, I’m marrying it." "Wait in line," Rafael said, resting his head against the doorframe and laughing into his arm. Eliana reached the toilet just in time, clutching it like a long-lost lover. From behind her, Rafael called out, "Tell it I say hi." A pause. "Oh my God," she whispered from inside. "It’s warm." "I told you!" "That’s so weirdly comforting!" They both burst into helpless laughter again, echoing off the bathroom walls like they were children at a sleepover. After a few seconds, Rafael heard the sound of retching and winced. "Poor thing," he muttered, before suddenly feeling his own stomach lurch. "Oh shit." He stood up from the wheelchair—something Eliana would’ve noticed if she wasn’t so drunk—and stumbled into the bathroom after her. "Rafi?" Eliana’s voice was muffled as she leaned over the toilet. "What are you doing here?" "Same as you," he said, gripping the sink for support before he leaned over it, his own stomach emptying into the basin. They laughed between heaves, their drunkenness making the situation feel absurdly funny. When they were finally done, Rafael wobbled to the cabinet and pulled out two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. He handed one to Eliana, and they stood side by side, brushing their teeth in silence for a moment before catching each other’s eyes in the mirror and bursting into giggles again. Once their mouths were minty fresh, Rafael led Eliana back into the bedroom. She didn’t even notice that Rafael Vexley walked on his two feet to the bed—her head was too fuzzy to process anything beyond the fact that she was exhausted. He sat on the edge of the mattress and patted the space beside him. "Come here," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with something that made her pulse quicken. Eliana didn’t hesitate. She climbed onto the bed and lay down next to him, her body sinking into the soft sheets. Rafael pulled her into his arms, and she nestled against his chest, her breath warm against his skin. For a moment, they just lay there, the alcohol buzzing through their veins. But then Rafael’s hand began to wander. His fingers traced slow circles on her hip, sending shivers down her spine. Eliana tilted her head up to look at him, her lips parted in surprise. "Rafi..." "I told you I had a secret," he whispered, his voice husky. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "I’m not blind. And I’m definitely not crippled." She blinked, trying to process his words through the fog of alcohol. "Wait... what?" Before she could say more, his lips were on hers, silencing any protest. The kiss was deep and hungry, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her moan softly into his mouth. His hands slipped under her sweater, exploring every inch of her skin as he pulled her closer. Eliana’s mind was spinning, but she didn’t care. All she could think about was how good it felt to have his body pressed against hers, his hands roaming over her like he couldn’t get enough. She tore her lips from his and gasped, "Rafi..." He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he moved down her body, kissing a trail along her neck and collarbone. His fingers slid beneath the hem of her sweater, tugging it up and over her head in one smooth motion. Her bra came off just as easily, discarded somewhere beside them. Then his mouth found her again, this time at her chest. He took her nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and sucking gently, like he knew exactly what would drive her wild. She gasped and arched into him, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and all she could do was feel—every kiss, every breath, every heartbeat crashing into hers like waves that refused to stop. "Rafi..." she moaned, her fingers tugging at his hair. He looked up at her with a wicked smirk, eyes glinting with heat, before slowly moving lower. His hands trailed down her sides, teasing her skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants and panties. With one smooth pull, he slid them down her legs, taking his time, like he was unwrapping a very delicate present. She was completely naked beneath him, she felt the air kiss her skin—and his gaze, hot and heavy, drinking her in. His stormy gray eyes roamed over her with dark, unspoken hunger, like she was the only thing he’d ever wanted. Then, without a word—without even giving her a second to brace herself—he dipped his head and buried his face between her thighs, hungry, unrelenting, and completely lost in her. Eliana let out a sharp gasp as his tongue swiped through her folds, teasing her clit with expert precision. Her hips jerked involuntarily, but he held her down, his hands gripping her thighs as he continued to lick and devour her wet and dropping pussy. Every lick sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her toes curl and her back arch. "Fuck," she whimpered, her voice trembling. "Rafi, please..." He didn’t stop. Instead, he slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right as he continued to work her clit with his tongue and fuck her with his fingers. Eliana was lost in the sensations, her moans growing louder and more desperate until she finally came apart, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. When she finally caught her breath, she looked down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Your turn," she whispered. Rafael grinned and whispered, "I can’t wait that long, " and then he crawled back up her body, capturing her lips in another searing kiss as he positioned himself between her thighs. She could feel the length of his cock pressing against her entrance, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer. With one thrust, he was inside her, filling her completely. Her entrance was so warm and his cock filled her up just right. They both groaned at the sensation, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. Rafael’s pace was steady but intense, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside her that made her see stars. "You feel so fucking good," he growled against her neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Eliana couldn’t respond; all she could do was cling to him as pleasure consumed her. Her nails dug into his back, leaving red marks that only spurred him on. Their bodies were slick with sweat, the sounds of their moans and the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. It didn’t take long for them both to reach the edge. Rafael’s thrusts became erratic as he felt his release building, and Eliana cried out as another orgasm ripped through her body. He followed moments later, burying himself deep inside her as he came with a loud groan. They collapsed together in a tangled heap of limbs, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Rafael pressed a kiss to her forehead, his arms tightening around her. "So..." she whispered, still dazed from the alcohol and intensity of it all. "Not blind or crippled, huh?" He chuckled lowly, his hand trailing down her side in a way that made her shiver. "Nope."