Venice Vampyr
Page 3
He motioned to the window. “I climbed in. And don’t worry, nobody saw me. I understand how you value discretion.”
Isabella pressed her dressing gown to her front to cover up as much as she could. Her heart beat in her throat. Only a rake would enter a woman’s bedchamber without invitation. “I would value it even more if you disappeared just as discretely.” She paused for effect. “This instant.”
Raphael took a step closer. “I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can,” she insisted. “Surely, if you managed to climb in, you’ll manage to climb back out.”
He smiled his insanely crooked smile and flashed his brilliantly blue eyes at her. She’d never seen a man with such hypnotic eyes. “What I meant to say is I won’t. Because you, Signora, lied to me.”
She shot up from her seat. “Lied?” What was he accusing her of? And besides, what did it matter? He was trespassing on her property.
“You risked your own life to save mine. Why did you lead me to believe that your servant rescued me?”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that.”
Before she knew what he was about to do, he crossed the distance between them and clasped her shoulders with his hands. “Don’t you understand what kind of danger you put yourself in? You could have drowned with me, woman! How could you be so careless with your own life? Do you know how heavy I am? Did you even think?”
With every word he appeared to get angrier. She couldn’t understand why. After all, they were both safe. “But we’re both alive.”
“By whatever stroke of luck! You could have given your life for me, a stranger. You don’t even know whether I was worth saving.” His eyes grew darker by the second, his voice harsher with every word.
“I couldn’t let you drown. Every life is worth saving.”
***
Why this raven haired beauty could infuriate him like this, Raphael had no idea. Yet, she did. The moment he’d heard the gondolier say that she’d been the one who’d jumped into the frigid waters to save him, he’d felt as if an ice cold hand had squeezed his heart. For the first time in his life, true fear had traveled through his body. Fear for another person. Fear of what could have happened to her.
And when the gondolier had told him how long Isabella had stayed under water and how hard it had been to pull them up, all he could think of was paddling her stubborn ass to teach her a lesson so she would never again put herself in the path of danger as she had.
“Damn it, woman, if I were your husband I would make sure you never jumped into another icy canal and risked your life.” Yes, if Raphael were her husband, there’d be a hell lot of things he’d do, starting with—
“And how would you try to achieve that, you arrogant, ungrateful man!” Isabella spat and pushed off his hands.
Arrogant? Maybe. But ungrateful—no, Raphael wasn’t ungrateful for having been given a second chance. But he was incensed about her apparent lack of concern for her own safety. As for keeping her from jumping into canals to rescue drowning strangers? He had just the right remedy for that.
With one swoop, he pulled her into his embrace and ripped the dressing gown from her grip, dropping it to the floor. “When I’m done with you, you won’t have any energy left to swim in dirty canals and save undeserving strangers.”
His mouth captured her plump lips. She’d parted them, clearly to voice her protest, a fact he now used to his advantage. Greedily, Raphael swept his tongue between her lips and dove into her. The delicious caverns of her mouth greeted him with the intoxicating flavor of an aroused woman.
He’d noticed that he didn’t leave her cold, and it pleased him tremendously. He wasn’t taking a shrinking violet to bed. No, the hot-blooded woman in his arms knew full well what would happen now—or at least her body did. And her body didn’t protest anymore. On the contrary, her arms came around his neck, a hand slipping into his hair as she held him closer.
Raphael felt her generous breasts crushed against his chest with only her thin chemise and his own clothes impeding a closer contact. She was soft in all the right places and warm, so deliciously warm. He felt her heat seep into his body. Hunger attacked him, hunger for Isabella’s body— and her blood. He tamped it down, not wanting to scare her. If he wanted more than just one night, he’d have to hide his blood lust from her. And he wanted more than just this one night.
The moment she stroked her tongue against his, a bolt akin to a lightning strike hit him. A deep rumble started in his chest, his body wanting to give voice to what she did to him. When she stroked against him a second time, he freed his mouth from hers and let out the moan that had threatened to choke him.
“Angel,” he whispered against her lips, his voice hoarse and breathless, his pulse racing.
“Nobody can ever find out,” she said with a shaking voice.
He nodded eagerly. “I promise you.” He’d keep their affair a secret. Nothing would compromise her standing in society. He’d make sure of it. The longer he could keep their affair hidden from prying Venetian eyes, the longer he would have her, devour her, consume her.
Raphael lifted her into his arms and carried her to the four poster bed, where he laid her onto the crisp linen. She looked up at him with wide eyes, eyes that were full with the knowledge of what was going to happen.
“You’re beautiful. I’m going to worship you with every fiber of my body.”
Then he shrugged off his coat and dropped it to the floor.
Chapter Six
He undressed in plain view. Isabella realized that he wanted her to watch as he peeled item after item from his body and exposed his naked skin to her.
Was she making a huge mistake by allowing him to seduce her? When he’d intruded into her chamber, she had at first been shocked. But her shock had soon turned to desire. And a possibility had started to emerge. If it was true that nobody had seen him, then maybe she could risk this just once. He would leave the same way he’d entered, and nobody in her household would be the wiser in the morning.
For one night she could indulge in passion and pleasure. It would sustain her for many years to come: a pleasant memory, a few hours of bliss. And knowing what lay underneath Raphael’s clothes, she knew it would be bliss. His body was made for sin.
She held her breath when he snapped the first button of his breeches open. Her decision was made when each button was released, revealing more of his flesh. First, dark curly hair came into sight, then his cock sprang free from its confines. Hard and big, it curved slightly upwards.
God, he was so much bigger than when he’d been unconscious. Much bigger than her late husband. In fact, it appeared his impressive shaft seemed to have more than doubled in size, or was she hallucinating? She licked her lips in anticipation. This was more than she’d expected, and she’d be a fool to turn down such a gift.
All she could think of was feeling his powerful instrument in her, of impaling herself on it. The mere thought made her perspire.
“Patience, my angel,” he whispered with a knowing smile on his face. “This is all for you, and only for you.”
Isabella met his gaze and shuddered. There was so much raw desire and lust in his eyes, she should be scared by its intensity, yet all it did was stoke the flames in her body higher. Instinctively, her own hand trailed to the juncture of her thighs, to that hidden place that throbbed with uncontrollable need. The place where wetness had already spread.
When Raphael inhaled visibly, she knew he realized it too. His nostrils flared, and his eyes grew darker. His voice was a growl. “You slay me.”
His words didn’t mean anything, made no sense, but she drank them in and relished the knowledge that he’d soon unleash his desire upon her. Like a barely-tamed beast, he stood before her, fully naked now, his chest rising and falling with every breath. His eyes traveled over her, then rested on the place where her hand lay over her quivering mound.
“I want you,” she whispered, not caring if she sounded forward.
Then he took a hold of her chemise and, without any effort, ripped it open from the neckline to its hem. Isabella could only gasp at his boldness. Gasp and shiver with delight.
***
The moment Raphael tore the thin chemise in two and exposed her breasts to his hungry eyes, he felt his cock jerk. She truly was beauty personified. Never in his long life had he seen a woman with such perfect breasts made of creamy skin and topped with the hardest nipples possible. He blew a hot breath against one nipple, eliciting a strangled moan from Isabella.
She was so responsive. When he’d undressed in front of her—moving deliberately slowly to give her a chance to feast her eyes upon him—he’d enjoyed seeing her become aroused. Her nipples had tightened under her thin chemise, and the aroma that had drifted into his nostrils had almost made him spill, so strong was the scent.
So delicious that it made his fangs itch despite the fact that he’d fed plenty before his unexpected nocturnal swim. He’d have to restrain himself so as not to bite her and drink her blood. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. All he wanted for tonight was to sate his carnal urges and make this angel come apart in his arms until she collapsed, unable to move another limb. Maybe then she would understand that she couldn’t risk her life anymore by jumping into canals.
The thought of what she’d done still made him shudder. If she were his woman, he’d never allow it. He’d never let her out of his sight for fear something bad could happen to her. He’d protect her day and night.
Raphael stopped his thoughts. Why was he being so possessive about her? She wasn’t his–in fact, she would never be his. It would only be a short affair, during which he’d be lucky enough to call a woman like Isabella his own, a woman who looked at him now, her eyes full of desire. He wouldn’t disappoint her. She would experience ultimate pleasure in his arms tonight, even if it cost him his last breath.
He dropped his head to her breasts and let his tongue lick over one nipple, then the other one. She arched toward him. With an appreciative grunt, he sank his lips onto one breast and sucked the hard little nubbin into the depths of his mouth. His hands weren’t idle either. They palmed her gorgeous globes and gently squeezed the firm flesh. Despite her generous proportions, she fit his palms perfectly. Just as he’d thought.
The nipple in his mouth tasted more delicious with every lap of his tongue over it. God, he couldn’t get enough of her warm flesh, nor of the woman beneath it. As he switched to the other breast to lavish the same attention on it, he quickly glanced at Isabella’s face. Her flushed face was framed by her long dark hair, strands of which clung to her glistening skin. Her eyes were half closed, her long dark lashes resting against her skin. She’d captured her lower lip between her teeth.
Raphael smiled. “My angel, there’ll be no holding back tonight. Whatever you feel, I want to hear it.”
Isabella’s eyes flew open, pinning him with a surprised stare. “But it’s not decent.” Her voice was breathless.
“There’s nothing decent about what we’re going to do tonight. So, let go and show me who you are.” He wanted to see the passionate woman beneath the proper exterior, the courageous woman who’d recklessly risked her own life to save his.
Again, he sucked her nipple into his mouth and tugged on it.
“Oh!” she yelped.
“That’s it, angel,” he praised and moved lower, nibbling his way further south. When he reached the top of her drawers, he pulled on the strings and loosened the garment. Without effort, he freed her from it, laying bare the treasure beneath.
And what a treasure it was. Her dark curls glistened with her honey. Without coaxing, she spread her thighs, and he accepted the invitation and settled between her legs. He planted small kisses on the dark thatch of hair, then placed his hands on her thighs and urged her to part them further. She twisted under his grip. His mouth moved lower and hovered over her moist cleft.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Isabella said.
He looked up and met her gaze. “Do you not like it?”
“I don’t know.”
Surprise hit him. “Your husband never—?” He let the question hang in the room.
She shook her head. “He taught me what to do to him. But he never ... it’s not clean.”
What kind of husband had he been? Taking his own pleasure, but not giving her the same in return? Raphael inhaled sharply, taking in her enticing scent. “It’s more than clean. Your scent drives me crazy, and you’d be depriving us both if you won’t let me taste you.”
Her eyes widened. “You want this?”
“More than anything.” Then he simply sank his mouth back over her warm pussy and snaked out his tongue to take his first taste. As her honey spread over his tongue and ran down his throat, his gut constricted at the lightning bolt that charged through him. He growled and licked again.
Isabella was a feast the likes of which he’d never partaken. He would even forego blood if she allowed him to gorge himself on her honey. He felt like a pirate, plundering her sweet cave of its treasures. The intimacy of his action wasn’t lost on him. He was her first, the first man who tasted her this intimately, who drank from her. A rush of heat went through him at the thought.
With leisurely ease, he lapped against her moist folds, tracing his tongue along her slit. When he moved higher, he recognized the instant change in her breathing. The moment he reached the engorged nub that rested just above the entrance to her channel, she twisted under his hold. He could feel her frantic heartbeat, hear her panting breaths. Then he licked over her little button. His name exploded from her lips as her hips bucked against him.
“That’s it, angel,” he praised and sucked the bundle of flesh into his mouth and tugged.
Now her moans and pants became more pronounced. Lick after lick he dealt her, nibbling, sucking, kissing, and devouring her sweet pussy. And with every touch she became more sensitive, reacting more urgently to his caresses. Under his hands and his lips, he felt her come alive, like a flower that suddenly started blooming.
With his fingers, he spread her wider, alternately fucking his tongue into her channel, then sweeping it over her center of pleasure. When he felt her tense up, he doubled his efforts until he sensed her shudder. He held onto her as her body shook from her climax and drank in the cream she released, not wanting to leave the paradise her body represented.
“Raphael,” she whispered, her voice colored with disbelief and wonder.
Reluctantly, he lifted his head from her core and slid up her body, aligning his hips with hers. His erect cock was poised at her moist channel, which still quivered from the aftershocks of her orgasm. He couldn’t resist and plunged in without a word or a sign of what he would do.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, yes.”
He nodded, the cords on his neck tightening from the effort it cost him to ward off his imminent release. She was too tight. Nobody had visited her warm and wet cave in a long time. He tried to hold back, but of their own volition, his hips drew back and plunged back in. The sound of flesh on flesh only fed his hunger for her.
“Angel, I need to fuck you hard.”
On the next stroke, she slammed her pelvis against him, intensifying his actions. Then his body’s rhythm took over, his cock thrusting into her as if there were no tomorrow. All he could think of was possessing her, marking her, branding her.
Raphael looked at her face, wondering if he was hurting her with his frantic rhythm, and the sight that greeted him filled his heart with pride. Her lips were parted, her eyes dark with lust and desire. “Oh, yes, Isabella, yes!”
“Fuck me!” she whispered. Her words did him in. Never had he heard a lady utter such words, but when they came over her lips, he couldn
’t help but rejoice. His balls burned and tightened at the knowledge that she gained as much pleasure from their coupling as he did.
Dropping his hand to her pussy, he pressed his thumb onto her pearl. The widening of her eyes told him he was reigniting her sensitive flesh. “Yes, once more. Let me feel you milk my cock.”
Her interior muscles clenched a second later, and his control shattered. With hot and eager spurts, he filled her tight pussy with his seed, pumping into her again and again, before he allowed himself to collapse on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows.
Chapter Seven
Isabella rested her head in the crook of his neck and breathed in his spicy scent. Her entire body felt boneless. If somebody asked her to get up right now, she was sure she’d be incapable of moving even one limb.
Raphael turned his face to her and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. It surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to have a tender side.
“And now I’d like to know what in hell you were thinking when you jumped into the canal to save me,” he said in a calm voice.
She jolted and tried to pull away from him, but his strong arms kept her imprisoned.
Isabella sighed. She didn’t want to be reminded of what could have happened, how he’d almost slipped through her arms and drowned. She would have never experienced the kind of pleasure he’d given her in the last hour.
“Please,” he added softly.
She pulled herself up and looked at him. “I couldn’t let you drown.”
“But you didn’t even know me,” he protested.
“It didn’t matter.”
“Why, Isabella? You must have had a reason.”
She swallowed back a tear that threatened to push to the surface. “My husband drowned in the canal.”
Shock registered in his eyes. Then he pulled her close to him and cupped the back of her head, pressing her against the crook of his neck. “Oh, my angel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories.”