Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(45)

Maria cried out as the feathers passed over her clitoris. “Feel it,” Raphael said and circled the feathers over and over where she could barely stand its touch. Maria’s hands dug into the bedsheets, clawing at the soft material. She could barely focus. Her back arched against her will. In all her years she had never felt anything like it. It was all encompassing, overwhelming, yet provoked the most intense craving all at the same time.

Raphael wasn’t faring much better, it seemed. Cheeks flushed and breathing shallow, he never ceased in his maddening rhythm on her clit as he crawled over her. His scent wrapped around her, only heightening the moment, and his warmth engulfed any coldness that remained in the small space between them.

Maria’s gaze never moved from Raphael the entire time, locked into his stare. Pressure built in her spine, and it took everything she had not to move, not to rock her hips against the feathers torturing her and pulling her body apart. She couldn’t take the unfamiliar sensation, yet needed more—so much more. Silently pleading with her blue eyes, she begged Raphael for more. Embracing the feel and abandoning her worries and cares, Maria gave herself to this man. This man who was lowering his mouth to her breast.

Maria cried out, the agonized moan echoing around the room as Raphael’s lips wrapped around her nipple and sucked. Her legs began to shake as the feathers moved back and forth, around and around, Raphael’s hot tongue mimicking the action on her nipple. Raphael groaned, and the deep husky sound vibrated through her to her soul. She fought the insatiable need to thrust her hands into his messy hair. She fought the need to caress his olive skin, feel the muscles flex underneath her palm. Raphael’s eyes stayed locked on hers as she climbed higher and higher to whatever unknown peak the feathers and his tongue were elevating her to.

“Come.” Raphael’s growled command passed through her like an edict straight from God’s mouth to her heart. Maria’s body tensed, and she broke apart into a supernova of tiny little fragments—dispersed, shattered, and soaring into a blissful wonderment of peace. Her body jerked as a cry leaped from her throat, only to be caught by Raphael, who hovered above her, his thumb on her bottom lip, breathing in her cries with his quick inhale.

Maria didn’t want to come down. Not from pain or fear, but from the need to keep this feeling for longer, to bask in the glow a cluster of feathers and a hot tongue had brought her. But, unable to hold on to the new feeling for a minute longer, Maria began to float back into her body, weightless, renewed. Returning to the bed and the man who was stroking her hair, his body pressed to hers. As the pleasure dispersed, Maria felt changed. Like a sinner born again.

Her body trembled. She wasn’t sure if it was the aftermath of her first orgasm or the memory of how Raphael looked at her when he’d wrung her of her pleasure. Like she was the Madonna and he a lowly pilgrim in search of spiritual guidance. Guidance only she could give him.

As if he needed to touch her, Raphael turned her head with his firm hand on her cheek. Maria felt the quick reddening of her face at the seemingly sincere caress. Raphael smiled, and the effect was devastating to her opened heart. Because this smile seemed different to those given before. This one she saw reflected in his eyes as well as on his mouth.

He was pleased.

That strangely made her happy too.

He reached out his hand, and with a touch as timid as the feathers that had brought her her first glimpse of pleasure, he ran his finger over her cheek. “Just like a rose,” he murmured, then leaned over until his torso covered hers. Maria gasped when her exposed nipple brushed against Raphael’s naked chest. She didn’t know what he was about to do. But she didn’t expect the kiss he placed on the side of her mouth. A kiss that made her thankful she was lying down; she feared her legs would have buckled at the formidable effect it had on her forgiving heart.

“You are beautiful, little rose. I couldn’t have asked for anyone more.”

As Maria stared into his golden eyes, she believed she saw a flicker of good looking back. Just a spark of benevolence, a whispered promise of who this man could be with her grace.

It wasn’t much. But it was a start.





Chapter Nine


Her delicate neck. The blush to her fair skin. The glaze in her blue eyes.

Perfect. She was perfect. As Raphael looked down, he saw his dream brought to life. Imagined her eyes frozen open, no more blinks to be made. Her soft hair would brush his cheek as he lay on her chest. The aftermath would be so silent, not a single sound in the room—perfect bliss. The blush on her cheeks would remain even as the hours passed. She would remain in his arms and, in the aftermath, she would still be warm.

As Raphael drew back his head, he felt the brand of kissing Maria staining his lips. His cock throbbed in his pants, the silicone cage choking his erection until it ached. It was perfection. The strangulation, Maria’s warm body beside his. He glanced up to Maria’s hair. It was thick and full from her writhing around on the bed. But her rose was still perfectly in place.

Raphael placed his hand on her lower neck and traced down over her breast. The minute his fingertip touched her nipple, Maria gasped, and her eyes that were fixed on him suddenly glazed in need. For someone so virginal, so untouched, she craved his touch, was a slave to his fingers. Some strange, unknown feeling flashed in his chest as she watched him, eyes hooded and lips pink.

It made Raphael groan.