“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.
Not wanting to lose the flush to her cheeks, he brought his hand lower and lower, over the thin fabric of Maria’s dress, over her stomach and down to her bare pussy. Raphael’s dick twitched. His pretty little rose had shaved. Like the perfect submissive she was apparently born to be, Maria’s legs fell further open without her even being asked. Raphael stilled and flicked his gaze up to meet hers. He had yet to tell her to look away. He didn’t like his conquests to keep his gaze for too long. He should order her eyes to drop, and he was about to open his mouth to issue the command, yet he stayed quiet. The words simply wouldn’t come.
Maria was staring at him, lips parted and pink nipple hard. His little rose looked so pure. Pure and good as she watched him—a light in her eyes as she regarded his dark soul. An angel in bed with the devil. Raphael licked his lips at the thought. Never in all these years had he been with someone like her.
Untouched.
Unsullied.
Purely his for the taking.
Raphael couldn’t help but become awash with pride knowing she would never have anyone else but him. She would never be leaving his rooms. She would forever carry his scent on her skin. Be branded with his touch and kiss. Be his to own forevermore.
All of his kills were overused pussy, and unsavory to his tastes. But a kill was a kill, a fuck was a fuck . . . until her.
Until little Maria.
Maria clenched her thighs, causing Raphael to look down. Her pussy was wet, glistening with come brought about by his hand. Stroking his steady hands up her milky thighs, Raphael parted Maria’s legs so he could see her better. Maria softly moaned, hands fisting the sheets as the cool air lapped at her silky cunt lips. Raphael watched her cheeks flood with redness. Her pussy was as pink as the rose in her hair, and her clit was swollen and thick. Her hole clenched, and Raphael thrust his cock against the mattress as he imagined plunging inside. The cage choked his dick until he hissed at the heavenly constrictive pain. His eyes rolled back as his balls pulled tight, the cage restricting his blood, his tip throbbing. He breathed through the pleasure, inhaled a long breath as he fought the need to come. Raphael’s hands fisted, and the muscles in his neck grew taut. When he looked up, Maria was watching him.
Her hair. Her long blond hair was a halo on her pillow. An angel. His very own angel to keep.
Stop. He had to stop. He wouldn’t waste this kill with impatience. He wouldn’t waste the beauty in his bed, the gift the devil had brought to his door. He would savor her taste, consume her cries of ecstasy. He would relish each touch of her body beneath his dangerous hands. And he would collect her pleasure, day after day, week after week, until she was his and his alone. Until her smiles were unbarred and her love for him was uncensored, obsessive . . . until he was the very air she breathed.