Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(19)

Raphael edged closer. “I won’t tell you again. Sleeves off. That’s your last chance.” Maria rushed to pull down the arm of her dress, revealing her black bra. Raphael was close to her. So close she could see the light stubble on his cheeks and jaw, and the scar that ran through his left eyebrow. He wore a cross in his left ear. She swallowed, yet grew intrigued when she saw that cross was upturned. “I don’t like to be disobeyed, and you are testing my tolerance,” he said in warning. He reached out and, in direct contrast to his harsh tone, gently rolled down the right bra strap. He leaned in and his mouth met Maria’s ear. “I expect whatever I say to be done. Immediately. Do you understand, or do you need to be taught? Do you need my expert instruction? I promise, I’ll only have to show you once.” But Maria’s voice had been stolen by the carnal act of baring herself to this stunning sinner. “I said,” Raphael continued, moving his full lips to her left ear. He took hold of the left bra strap and began to pull it down too. The material scraped against the skin on her upper arm, making her suck in a sharp inhale. Raphael smirked, clearly seeing her reaction. “Do. You. Understand?” Raphael yanked the strap down so hard Maria’s breasts were suddenly bared, the dress falling to her waist. But just as a shocked moan escaped her mouth, her hands reaching to her chest to maintain her modesty, a clatter echoed around the room. Maria didn’t even have to time to think about what had fallen. She simply watched in horror as Raphael bent down and retrieved the fallen item from the floor. Raphael stood, the rosary in his hand, the red beads threading through his fingers. As if the religious artifact were a naked flame, Raphael flinched, and his olive skin quickly paled as if the rosary were offensive.

Then, he brought the rosary closer to his face, eyes scanning the crucifix in detail. Maria saw when something within him changed. His body tensed, and the cords in his neck stood out prominently with how tightly he was gritting his teeth. His face reddened with what looked like unadulterated rage.

Maria quickly pulled up the straps of her bra, then the sleeves of her dress. As she moved to right her collar, Raphael’s head snapped up. But Maria didn’t see the beautiful smile or hungry expression she had previously been on the receiving end of. Raphael’s face vowed to inflict pain on her.

Before she had time to move from the door and try to put some space between her and him, Raphael thrust out his arm and wrapped his hand around Maria’s neck. The back of her head slammed against the wood, her shoulder blades taking the brunt of the impact as she was thrust backward. Breath spilled from her mouth as she was lifted off the floor and to the very tip of her toes. Maria tried to claw at Raphael’s strong arms, but his touch was too strong. Golden eyes filled with rage as he glared at her terrified face. “Who are you?” he snarled, voice savage. His full lips tightened as his teeth were bared. “How did you know where to find me? Did they send you?” Maria began kicking her legs, trying to break from his hold. Raphael paid her protests no mind. Instead he dangled the crucifix in her face. “I know these rosaries. The ‘B’ on His chest. I know who it belongs to. The filth who wear it.” Raphael tucked the beads into his pocket, and Maria’s eyes widened, fear becoming the only sensation her heart could feel. Fear and confusion. Raphael pushed her long hair aside and wrapped a second hand around her neck, adjusting the grip to completely stop her breathing. Maria pleaded with her eyes for Raphael to spare her, but her vision began to darken as he watched her gasp and fight to survive. And then she saw it, the hungry smile gracing his beautiful face. Smiling as she began to lose consciousness. Maria never stopped clawing at his arms, his hands. She would fight to the last second.

But as her body weakened and the darkness in her eyes deepened, Maria kept her gaze fixed on the beautiful man before her. The man who would send her soul to reside in heaven among the angels and saints.

This man they called Raphael.

Her beautiful killer.





Chapter Four


Her pulse weakened under his thumbs, once as fast as a butterfly’s wings, now as slow as a dying deer trudging helplessly through molasses. Raphael was caught in a red haze. The crucifix was burning a hole in his pocket. The Brethren. She was somehow connected to the Brethren. Raphael had recognized that “B” embossed on Christ’s chest the minute he held it in his hands. That “B” had been imprinted on his ruined soul. He could never forget it. It had scarred his youth.

This woman, his fantasy made flesh, his biggest temptation, was with the motherfucking Brethren. She flailed under his hands as she fought for life. But his every instinct called for him to end her, to send her to hell where she belonged, along with the other rapists disguised as priests. But as Raphael’s gaze fell to her long hair, hair that hung to below her ass, his hands began to slacken.

Long hair.

Long, thick hair.

Hair that he could wrap around her neck . . . pull tighter and tighter, until . . .

Raphael snarled, the tormented sound immediately swallowed by the padded walls around him.

The woman was perfect, the one he’d been waiting all his life for. Thick, long hair. Strong enough to withstand the pulls, the tugs . . . strong enough to kill her . . . bid her an eternal goodnight. And her neck, a neck his hands fit perfectly around. Fragile perfect bones, just the right length and width. He stared at his fingers on her pale skin, the softness like butter under his palm.