Raphael (Deadly Virtues 1)
It felt like awakening after a long slumber.
Raphael fought to breathe, a low groan slipping from his red lips. He licked at those lips, his tongue wetting his mouth. Maria had no idea what brought him such pleasure. But when her eyes dropped she saw him pulling the string so tightly that his finger was turning blue. She hadn’t meant to look, but underneath that finger was an obvious bulge in his pants. The thin material hid nothing; there was no modesty to be found under the black silk. Maria sucked in a shaky breath when she noticed the prominent outline of his erection. Her eyes widened.
Maria averted her gaze, dropping it to her clasped hands on her lap. When she finally looked up, Raphael’s eyes were on her, focused and wide with excitement. He edged closer and placed his hands on either side of her chair. Maria felt his hardness brush against her knee. She swallowed, too inexperienced to know what to do, how to act appropriately.
“From now on, you refer to me as Lord.”
Maria’s eyes snapped to Raphael in shock. “In this room, little rose. I am your Lord. I am your God and I am your savior. I am your teacher and guide.” He lifted his hand and ran his finger down a long strand of her hair. His finger, wrapped and choked by the string, ghosted past her neck, her shoulder, and along the curve of her breast. It wasn’t intentional, but she gasped aloud, her eyes fluttering shut. When her eyes opened again, it was to Raphael watching her as if she were the most fascinating creature on the planet. “You won’t speak unless I tell you to.” His instructions were heavy, but his voice was delicate and soft, a feather lying upon a bed of nails. “You’ll keep your eyes to the floor when you’re around me.” Raphael’s finger came underneath her chin and guided her head upright. “Unless I want you to watch me. And make no mistake, there will be many times I will.” Maria stayed silent. His commands were burrowing their way deep into her heart. His stringent tone made her feel as though her body were floating in the Dead Sea. It carried with it a heady sense of freedom she struggled to comprehend. Why did she like it so much? “Do you understand, little rose?”
“Yes,” Maria whispered and averted her eyes once more. Her heart kicked into a sprint when her gaze fell upon his hardness, his sizable length pushing against the fabric of his pants. She inhaled a shaky breath. Her sexual inexperience was never more obvious than in that moment.
“Yes what?” Raphael’s voice was harder than before, an aggressive edge to his deep tone. Maria felt a trail of fire race down her spine to the tops of her thighs.
“Yes, my lord,” she quickly amended.
Raphael froze, then brought his mouth to Maria’s ear. “My lord . . . that’s not what I told you to say, little rose, was it?” Maria panicked at her mistake, but before she could beg for forgiveness, Raphael let out a stuttered breath. “But I like that better. My lord. Your ruler, your savior. Your world.” Raphael traced the tip of his bound finger along Maria’s bottom lip. Her pulse fluttered in response. “Say it again.”
“My lord,” she whispered, Raphael’s deep inhale catching at her words.
“Good girl,” he said. “Doesn’t that sound perfect coming from your pretty little lips?”
“Yes, my lord,” she repeated. Raphael’s skin glistened with sweat, his muscles twitching with every obedient word she spoke.
“You won’t do anything without my permission, little Maria. And I won’t ask you anything twice. You’ll listen at all times. If I must repeat myself, there’ll be consequences. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Raphael smiled a blinding smile, pleased. He loosened the string from around his finger, the cords in his neck disappearing along with his strained voice. “If we do anything you don’t want, you’ll simply say ‘red rose.’ And I will stop. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Raphael stood and circled her on the chair. Maria wondered what he was doing, until she felt a brush combing through her hair. “Each day after you’ve eaten breakfast, you will shower. You will wash your hair, wear one of the dresses provided. Then you will sit on this chair and wait for me. Understood?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I will take care of you, little rose. I will brush out your hair, dry it, and dress it prettily with a rose.”
Maria hid her bewilderment at why he would want to do such a thing. Why he would bother to care. But she kept silent. She hadn’t been given permission to speak.
Raphael brushed her hair until all of the knots and tangles had been freed. Maria stilled when he began to hum, a soft melodic tune that sank into the very marrow of her bones. As the brush smoothed out her tresses, Maria’s stomach fell. She recognized the song he hummed quietly to himself. It sounded so natural coming from his lips she wasn’t sure he was even conscious he was doing it.