Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(44)

Maria’s eyes squeezed closed as her chest tightened at the crassly spoken carnal promise. The vow sank into her rushing blood and, like coal, heated her body from within. Raphael smiled as if he knew the effect he had on her. He moved until his face was merely an inch from hers. “I’m going to watch these cheeks bloom and flush with red like the little rose you are.”

Raphael waited. He waited until Maria’s breathing fell in sync with his. Then he was moving his hands down her body, fingers crawling reverently toward her feet. When he straddled her thighs again, he took the feathers in his hands. He licked his lips, then lowered the feathers to her feet. When the softness touched her skin, Maria gasped and involuntarily shifted her foot. Raphael stopped. Maria didn’t lift her eyes. Electricity surged through her body, as if her very being were made of live wires and static sparks. It brought all her dormant synapses that had long been repressed to life. “Don’t move,” Raphael ordered.

“Yes, my lord.”

A low groan came from Raphael’s mouth. Maria almost clenched her thighs together at the illicit feeling the sound delivered to her core. But she resisted, sucking in a deep breath. She wasn’t allowed to move. The feel of the feathers returned, only this time they were on her calf. Maria tried to resist her need to move, to react to the feel of the feathers tickling her skin. “My good little rose.” His flattery made something in her stomach flare and send a wave of happiness to her heart. Any conflicted thoughts were pushed away when her dress lifted at the sides. Maria’s eyes widened. Her breath caught. “Breathe,” Raphael reminded her. But the feathers were now caressing her lower thigh.

This is what he needs, she reminded herself. It is what you need to do save him.

Raphael shifted, the feathers disappeared, and suddenly his hand was at the strap of her dress. Delicately holding the material between his finger and thumb, Raphael pulled the strap down. Maria’s skin sang as more and more of her was bared, relishing the sudden kiss of cold air. When the dress fell away and her breast was freed, the safe word hung on the tip of her tongue. She knew this was her path. She knew what she had been chosen to do. But it was so much—the foreign sensations, the too-strong feelings, and Raphael . . . Raphael over her, his body large and domineering. The effect he had on her senses, her heart . . .

Yet when the cool breeze in the room circled her flesh and Raphael hissed as though the very sight of her naked breasts was too much to bear, a sense of purpose centered her where she lay, assuring her she was exactly where she needed to be.

It’s okay to let go.

Raphael needs you. He needs it to be this way. He needs to trust you, want you . . . he needs to see you. See the light in your soul.

So she let go. She surrendered herself to Raphael’s expert touch. Maria felt her nipple harden in the cool of the room and under the attention of his golden eyes. His hand moved to her thigh, and he moved her dress up until she felt fresh air kiss the apex of her thighs.

Even in the room’s cold chill, her body began to welcome the fire. Every part of her was heated, her senses on high alert. So when Raphael brought the feathers to her breast, the soft strands licking at her flesh, Maria moaned, the sound startling and foreign to her ears. But Raphael’s ministrations didn’t falter even under her moans and surprised gasps. The feathers danced over her nipple until Maria found it impossible to catch her breath. Raphael pushed and pushed, circling and circling until she was a coil wound to its limit. Her mouth became dry as her lips parted. Eyes closed, she simply felt.

Pressure built at the base of Maria’s spine. She craved something. Something she couldn’t describe, something just out of her reach. She began to climb, her senses and breathing under Raphael’s command, but then he moved the feather away, denying her the forbidden fruit she craved.

“Eyes on me,” Raphael ordered. But the tone of his voice had changed. It was still demanding and unyielding, warranting no refusal, but it now had a dangerous edge. As if he were balancing on a delicate precipice of losing control and smothering her will. Maria obeyed his command. His pupils were blown, and he wore a feral, savage expression. The severe look should have marred his beautiful face. If anything, the wickedness that gleamed in his face made his beauty almost preternatural. “Watch me.” She couldn’t look away if she tried. He licked his lips. His stubbled cheeks were flushed with red. Raphael lifted the feathers, never breaking from her gaze as he lowered them to her thighs. Maria sucked in a breath, only for it to become trapped in her throat when Raphael used his free hand to gently part her legs. The pulse in Maria’s neck that Raphael was so fascinated by began to thump as fast as a drum. Raphael’s breathing sped up too, his toned and tanned chest beginning to glisten with a light sheen of sweat. Maria didn’t need to see if he was excited. She could tell by his flushed face and lowered lashes that he was as far gone as she.

He’s letting go. He feels you, feels the goodness in your soul.

In that moment, Maria felt something she had never experienced in her life—assurance that everything she had been through was for a reason. For this moment right now. To save this man and bring him back into God’s embrace. She was a vessel, the willing servant who would make it so.

The cool air in the bedroom caressed her open legs, kissing up her inner thigh and to her center. Maria moaned when the feathers followed the path the breeze had made. Her body jerked, her eyes widening yet never moving from Raphael as he brought the feathers higher and higher until they brushed over her core.