Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(51)

Chapter Ten


Three weeks later . . .



Uriel stood and drew back his hood. Raphael rocked on his feet. He didn’t want to be in the Tomb right then. He wanted to be back in his room. What was Maria doing at that moment? Was she obeying his order to wait for him on his bed, kneeling and eyes downcast?

“Raphe.”

Raphael lifted his eyes at the sound of his name. Sela stood before him, regarding him curiously. “You close?” Sela removed his hood and hung it in the closet. Raphael, by rote, did the same. A strange pull in his gut was making him feel off kilter. Maria . . . she was acting strangely today. Her blue eyes were dull, her skin paler than usual. She obeyed his commands, but there were no smiles on her face, no gasps when he sucked her clit. When she came, she barely cried out. Pains shot through Raphael’s chest as he remembered her eyes drifting to the side of the room, instead of being on him. Over the past few weeks, the way she looked at him had changed. She smiled. She smiled, and every time she did, his blood would heat and his lungs would squeeze. He rubbed his sternum. He still hated it. Still didn’t understand it. But he’d gone past the point of no return. When he thought of not brushing her hair, of not licking her tits and clit, that awful ache pulled in his stomach.

Was she hurt? He tried to remember if he had hurt her. His head throbbed. He didn’t know, didn’t think he had. He had watched her, trying make her smile. He made her come, yet the dullness in her eyes remained.

“Raphe!” Sela repeated. “Christ, brother, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I need to get back to my room.” Raphael brushed past Bara, Uriel, Diel, and Sela. Michael stepped in front of him as he reached the bottom of the staircase. His best friend’s ice-blue stare was locked on him, assessing. Michael hadn’t come to his room once since Maria had been there. Gabriel had told him to stay away and give Raphael the time he needed to make good on his kill.

Michael’s head tilted as he regarded him blankly. “She dead yet? It’s been weeks.”

Raphael’s jaw clenched when the tightness in his chest increased. “No. Not yet.” Raphael hadn’t even fucked her yet. She hadn’t touched his cock. He didn’t know why the hell he was holding off.

No, that was a lie. He needed her to want him. Crave him as much as he craved her. She had to walk to him, then into the kill, willingly.

Maria was breaking. Slowly. But today . . . something was wrong today, and it was torturing Raphael’s mind. It pissed him off.

His blood felt like pure gasoline as it pumped through his heart. His bones felt like ton weights with every step. And there was anger. Anger and rage ignited every cell in his body as he thought of Maria’s lack of pleasure. She wasn’t giving herself over to him today. She came, but her eyes weren’t rolling back in her head and her cries weren’t loud and high-pitched.

He needed those screams more than air.

Without another word, Raphael moved around Michael and raced toward his room. When he opened the door, he stood stock-still at the sight that greeted him.

Maria wasn’t on the bed.

Raphael’s eyes roved over the room. The lamp in his closet was on. He walked to the open doors. Maria was on the floor in the corner. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, and her head rested against the wall. Raphael blinked, feet rooted where he stood. Maria looked up, and he saw that tears were streaming down her face. Raphael’s hands balled into fists. He glanced down at his tense fingers. He didn’t understand the fury that was taking hold. The haunted look in her eyes made him want to kill. The confusion that plagued his mind was bringing his anger to the edge. He needed to expel that anger. As Maria’s face crumpled and light sobs left her mouth, an unfamiliar sense of pain stabbed through his stomach. Raphael’s lungs froze; it wasn’t the type of pain he enjoyed. It didn’t make his dick twitch or his eyes roll back in pleasure.

It was an ache he couldn’t shift. He fucking hated it.

Raphael made a move to walk toward Maria, to order her to get up, dry her eyes, and get on his bed. But as he approached, as he reached down to take her in his arms, Maria met his eyes and whispered, “Red rose.” Raphael froze. “Red rose,” she repeated, her slim body sagging with a sadness Raphael couldn’t identify with, didn’t even understand.

Emotions were a void in his life.

Maria had spoken the safe words. Why had she done that? Why the fuck had she done that? His jaw clenched, and she held herself even tighter. “I need tonight. I need to not do anything with you tonight.”

Raphael had no idea what to do. What to say. His hands clenched into fists again. He needed her underneath him. He needed her screaming his name. He had had her every day, tasting her pussy and drinking down her screams. “Please,” she begged, tears falling down her cheeks.

Raphael backed away from the door. He tried to tell himself to stay calm, that he had given her those words for a reason. He didn’t want her unwillingly. It would only sour his seductive game. But as he reached the center of his room, a familiar red mist clouded his vision. She had rejected him. His little rose had spoken the safe words.

She had stopped him.

She was meant to love him.

But right now her face was sad, tears were falling down her cheeks. And he had no idea why. He couldn’t read people like this. Didn’t understand them. Why did people cry anyway?