Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

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.

He took another deep breath as if he was drinking in her perfume. In the next instant, he leapt onto the bed, planted each of his knees to the outside of her hips and hovered over her. “My angel, you’ll have every single inch of me in whichever way you please.”

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 like 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.”