Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(90)

“Perfect,” Maria whispered, and Raphael lifted her onto the bed. She lay on the bed of red roses, her blond hair a halo around her head. Raphael paused to capture the scene in his mind. He had never seen anyone look more beautiful than she did. She held out her arms. Raphael climbed onto the bed and slowly covered her body. He stared into Maria’s eyes, committing her to memory, just like this.

Then his lips were on hers. He kissed her. He kissed her and kissed her until her hips began to roll. Raphael groaned at the feel of his unsheathed cock rubbing between her legs. He broke from the kiss and moved his dick to her hole. The music played around them, Maria’s warmth wrapped around him, and, keeping his focus on her, he pushed inside her. Maria’s eyes grew leaden as Raphael groaned, taking her raw. When he filled her to the hilt, he paused. He stilled, eyes closed, relishing the feel of taking her without the cage. It felt . . . Raphael couldn’t explain. He was a sinner. He was going to hell. But he was sure this was how heaven would feel. Warmth and bliss and whole-body pleasure.

Raphael began to move. Opening his eyes, he memorized the feeling of Maria’s hands roaming along his scarred back. Her cheeks were flushed as he rocked inside her. Her blue eyes were bright, and her skin glowed with a sheen of sweat. She was perfection.

Shivers accosted his spine. Kissing her lips one last time, Raphael gathered her hair in his hands. Soft, silky strands caressed his palms. And then he began to twist. He twisted and twisted her hair until it was a rope of golden silk. Maria’s lips parted and she exhaled a slow breath. Then she lifted her head. Raphael’s hips jerked, and he pushed faster, his movements guided by the harmonized voices that filled the air.

He wrapped the hair around her slim, pretty throat. Once, it went around, his thrusts becoming deeper. Twice, it circled her neck, her pale skin flushing underneath. Gripping the hair tighter, he wrapped it around one more time, stalling for a mere second to see the picture beneath him. Maria, as captivating as Mary herself as she looked into his eyes, a smile on her face, cheeks pink and her hair around her neck.

Maria laid her hand on his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered and completely obliterated Raphael’s world. “I love you, my lord. I love you, Raphael. You are so, so worthy of love.”

Raphael groaned and pushed into her deeper. Her hand dropped to his holding her hair. And she guided him to pull. To pull her hair tighter and tighter. Raphael’s breathing grew labored as Maria’s hair closed around her throat. Her eyes widened as he pulled it as tight as his strength would allow. Her cheeks grew red as the air was starved from her lungs. Raphael thrust harder and harder, until Maria’s hands clasped around him and her back arched. He felt her pussy clenching around him, a silent moan on her parted lips. Maria’s eyes began to close as her hair deprived her of life. Raphael’s hands shook as he pushed and pushed into her, feeling the gathering pressure in his thighs and lower spine. Then, as Maria’s eyes fluttered closed, a final smile on her lips, Raphael came, roaring out his release as he smothered her throat with her hair. Raphael rocked into her until his heart began to calm. When his heavy eyes focused on her face, he stilled.

Maria’s eyes were closed, her hair pulled tight. He leaned down and kissed her lips. They were still warm. He rubbed his cheek against hers. He could feel the heat from the flush on her face. Raphael’s heart was a symphony in his chest as he looked at her and rasped, “I love you too, little rose. I’ll love you forever. You were designed only for me. The greatest gift I could ever receive.”

Keeping hold of the end of her hair, he laid his head on her chest, wrapping his arm around her waist. And there he lay, for the first time in his life completely content. He lay there until he caught his breath, playing with Maria’s hair in his hand. Moving from the bed, Raphael gathered her in his arms and walked her to the coffin. He laid her down on the bed of white roses, brushing her hair on the silk pillow with his hand until not a strand was out of place. He placed a small bouquet of white roses in her hands . . . and he smiled. He unraveled the thread from around his finger and laid it on her chest, over her heart.

He would have his little rose forever. She would never ever leave him.

Finally, someone to call his own.

As he stared down at her in the coffin, roses in her hands and hair, something inside him locked into place. A feeling so overwhelming he had to hold on to the coffin’s glass side to remain standing.

Maria . . . his Maria . . . She had shifted something in his dark soul, created something that was never there before. Eradicated some of the pain. Something cracked open in his chest, and he gasped at the new sensation flooding through his veins. He reached for her unmoving hand and, when he took a deep breath, for the first time in his life Raphael felt like he could breathe.

His little rose had brought him life.

Her life, for his.

*****

Gabriel lashed at his back so hard that his vision began to blacken. He thought of Maria with Raphael. Dying. An innocent soul who deserved to live.

So he lashed himself again, wondering when it would all end. The evil, the death his brothers so craved. What his life had become.

When his back was a bloodied mess, he put down the lash and ate Maria’s blood with a lump of bread. He would not let her sins be judged when she passed. He would take them on himself. She would enter heaven pure.

He had failed in saving her life, a fellow person of God, an ally of his faith. But he would not fail in saving her soul.