Gingerly, he maneuvered himself between her legs, his lips on her neck again, kissing and teasing the flesh, his hands caressing hers. She felt his hardness press against the delicate folds of her privates, begging for entry.
Without warning, fear pummeled through her. Was this going to hurt terribly? She tried to push him away, terror building to new heights. "I'm not ready for this, Raphael," she begged, despite the fact that her body burned for his touch.
“You are more ready than you think.”
With those words, Raphael entered her with a gentle stroke. She gasped as pain erupted between her legs. He stared deep into her eyes as he pulled out and thrust deeper this time. She held onto him as a warm wetness slid down her thighs. Her breath caught in her chest.
“Just breathe.” He lowered his head. Raphael slid his lips from her neck to hers, insistent and urgent. He was gentle at first, giving her light, feathery kisses around the edges, building up a crescendo. Hunger drove the kiss to become harder and more passionate, the fear slipping from her body like water from a bucket. Their tongues intertwined for a moment, his hands cupping the shelf of her jaw, pressing her close.
He was passionate in his strokes, bringing her to new heights, almost as if he gave her an antidote to the pain. She was only dimly aware of the sharp sting on her neck and dismissed it as a love bite.
Her senses heightened even further, making her gasp harder, her fingers digging into his back.
Sensing her approaching climax, Raphael intensified his strokes, bringing about his own orgasm as well as hers. Her blood was the sweetest thing in his mouth besides her flesh, flowing through his veins like the finest wine. He didn't take much this time. It was just enough to deepen the mark on her.
Along with taking her virginity, Raphael took every care and worry she ever had into himself, making the entire sexual experience more than she could have ever hoped for. Raphael trembled and collapsed on her, sweaty and well satisfied. "Did I hurt you?" The concern was definitely in his voice, something she feared wouldn't be there once they were done.
"No, you didn't," she gasped as he rolled away from her yet kept her safely within the circle of his strong arms.
"I'll know if you're lying to me, Elizabeth," he warned as he kissed her forehead. "I would hate to find out I really did hurt you."
She rolled away, facing the window, tucking the sheets up to her chin. "No, you didn't, I promise." Though he didn't hurt her physically, she was torn mentally. She really didn't know Raphael that well and that cockamamie story about vampires really sucked her in. She stopped. What if it was real? Raphael had corroborated some of those nightmares she had had since she was a small child. She'd never told another living soul about them, including Dr. Kaplan. All her shrink would want to do was commit her.
"You don't know whether or not you want to believe me," he answered for her. "How about if you just give me time and I'll prove it to you?"
She turned to face him. "How did you know what I was thinking?"
He chuckled as he stroked the underside of her chin softly, the fire slowly stirring again. "And how many times do I have to remind you that I can read your mind?"
Chapter 5
Soft coos of the birds drifted through the open window as the cool morning breeze entered. Liz sighed heavily, stretching all the while. Had last night been a dream?
No, it couldn't have been. She wouldn't feel this wonderful if it had been.
She turned over on her right side, expecting to see Raphael lying next to her. Maybe he'd be up for round four.
Her jaw dropped.
The place beside her was empty.
Instead of Raphael, there was an envelope with her name neatly written on the front.
Trembling fingers brought it over to her and she slipped on her horrid glasses. At least she'd managed to take out her contacts last night.
My dearest love,
Please forgive me for not being there when you awoke. There was urgent business to attend to. I have not forgotten about you, nor the wonderful gift you have given me. If you would do me the honor, please come to my house on
1211 Mount Vernon Avenue
in the Waterford District. I have a surprise for you. I will count the moments until I see your beautiful face again.
With all my heart and love,
Raphael
Liz rolled back against the fluffy pillows, reading the note again, her heart lifting. So he wasn't kissing her off since he'd taken her innocence. He actually wanted to be with her!
Tears of joy sneaked out of the corners of her eyes, staining the pillow beneath her. Perhaps she and Raphael could build something together.
She stifled the urge to giggle. After all, she was a grown woman and not prone to such childish things.
Liz blinked hard and stared up at the popcorn-like stucco on her ceiling. What did Raphael want? Was he going to show her some more of his vampire-like tricks?
She pressed his note to her chest. She still wasn't sure what to think about him. He claimed to be a vampire yet could move around in the sunlight? According to all the legends, sunlight would have vaporized him instantly, yet he was still walking. That part didn't make sense.
Liz pushed up from the bed a bit reluctantly, shoving the covers back. It was time to get the day started.
Padding to the bathroom, she stopped at the sink, studying her face. Did she really look like the original Elizabeth Swanson?
Using her memory of the photo of the portrait, unfortunately, she'd left her book at school, otherwise she'd have it in front of her pronto, she compared their features again. The nose was almost the same as well as the cheekbones. She turned her face to the left.
Very interesting. The bone structure was almost the same. Turning her face to the left, she could see it was almost as identical as well.
Two spots of deep red glared at her from her neck. She peered closer. They weren't spots, they were puncture wounds! She paled, holding the sink for support, rocking slightly. Did that mean he really was a vampire and had fed from her?
She gripped the sides of the porcelain sink so hard that her knuckles turned white. "No!" she screamed, her voice echoing from around the room. Why was he choosing to feed from her? Were there no other hapless victims?
No, he was not going to use her like this. She was no man's toy, even if she was a little quiet and timid at times. She knew how to fight back.
* * * *
Liz parked her car at the sidewalk and killed the engine. Rage coursed through her veins, mingled with shame. How could she have let herself fall for his ploy?
She got out of the car and stood on weak legs before
1211 Mount Vernon Avenue
, looking at the house. It was an immense Georgian-style home with dark gables and shutters. Two porches encircled the front, both upstairs and down. Well-manicured flowers kept to their beds, sprinkling the air with their flowery scent. As she walked a little farther up the front paving stones, she noticed the huge marble fountain in the middle of a circular driveway, depicting adorable cherubs at play. Trepidation coiled inside her belly like a snake waiting to strike. How was she going to feel once she had the truth out of him?
Warily, she approached the door. What was she going to say to him? She pushed the doorbell.
No one answered. I guess he's not home, she thought glumly to herself. I got myself so wound up in all of this that I didn't think about the consequences of my actions.
Just as she turned to walk away, she heard the snick of the lock. The door slowly opened to reveal a young woman. Her skin was the color of rich mocha, highlighting her jet-black hair. Black leather encased her entire body, including studded wrist bands. "Can I help you?"
"Is Professor Chamberlain in?"
The woman, probably only in her late twenties, early thirties, leaned casually against the door frame. "Who's asking?"
"I … am," she managed to stammer out.
"Come on in," the woman said brusquely and opened the door all t
he way.
Liz stepped into the most sumptuous home she'd ever seen. Antiques were everywhere as well as precious art objects. "This is a beautiful home," she commented as they passed through the foyer to the living room.
"We seem to like it," the woman said as she flopped her leather-clad behind on an expensive couch. Casually, she put her feet up on the antique table and lit up a cigarette, blowing lazy smoke rings. "Whatcha want Raph for? What's he done this time?"
She was shocked. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."
The woman lowered her feet and took a deep drag on her cigarette, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. "What I mean is, did he knock you up or something? Cause if'n he did, we got the bread to make it go away."
She stared at this rude woman, trying to get some idea of how she fit into Raphael's life. What did he see in her?
Before she could ask, two twin boys, approximately ten years old, ran in from the other room, screaming like banshees. Their dark hair and eyes were unmistakable. "Hey!" the mysterious woman shouted. "I done told ya to get back in your room!" she ordered. "Your daddy'll paddle both your asses once he gets home."
"Aw, Mom, we just wanna play for a bit."
The moment those words assailed her ears, her blood froze. Why didn't Raphael tell her that he was married and had children? Tears stung her eyes as she sat there, absorbing the entire scene. He'd used her, just as every man had used her throughout her life.
Her hostess clapped eyes on her. "I'm guessin' Raph didn't tell ya he had a wife," she said with a grin, taking another deep drag from her cigarette. "Ya see, we're Raph's dirty little secret. As long as he keeps me in bread and dope, he never has to see me or them damn kids of his. That way he can go out and cavort with who he wants to," the woman said in a smarmy tone as she looked Liz up and down. "Why he would mess around with a piece of ass as fat as you, I'll never know. Oh, just so's ya know, you ain't the first Raph's been with."
"Please, this is all a mistake. I’m sorry I came here and bothered you."
"He didn't pull that vampire crap on you, did he?"
Liz looked up, her eyes widening. How did she know about their conversation?
The stranger's lips spread into a wide, knowing smile as she exhaled a long ream of smoke. "That's how he gets ’em all, toots. Lures them inta thinkin' he's a bona fide vampire. An when he bites ya, he has a small staple puller in his hand that makes the marks."
Liz rose to her feet, clutching her purse to her chest. "I think I'd better go," she said as she pushed toward the door. The tears were coming hot and steady, scorching her cheeks. She couldn't even see because they were so thick.
"Before ya go toots, ya outta know that Raph's crazy and delusional. He's been in the nut ward more than he's been out. By the way, in case you're wondering, I'm Mrs. Lillith Chamberlain. You can call me Lily. Maybe if'n me and the rug rats stick around this shit-hole of a town, we might become friends."
She didn't hear any more after that. She had to put as much distance between herself and Raphael as she could. How could he play her for such a fool?
Sliding behind the wheel of her car, she sat there for a few moments, trying to gather the strength to move it forward. How could he take her heart, get her to believe him before crushing it under his feet like chunks of dirt?
Liz turned the key and gunned the engine. She had to get out of here. Fast.
* * * *
Raphael slipped the key into the lock of his new home, whistling as he did so. This was his gift to Elizabeth. A fine new home to start their life over again, possibly somewhere beyond Zakara’s reach.
He froze in his spot as the whistle died in his throat. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, his senses tingling. Dear God in heaven, Zakara was here!
"You bet your sweet ass I'm here," she purred as she emerged from the empty dining room, her long nails scraping the wall. "Strangely, your little woman isn't," she mocked, putting a finger to her chin. "I wonder why."
He looked at her black leather-clad form, disgust filling him. How could he have sought comfort in her arms once? "What have you done?" he growled savagely, his hands gripping her upper arms and shaking her hard. Rage filled him, an emotion he hadn't felt this deeply in a long time.
"I keep what I own," she said fiercely as she stepped out of his hard grip, backing up toward the wall. "You see, with the help of your 'children'," she gestured to the small children making an appearance. "I convinced her that she was nothing more than a fast, nameless lay and that you had a wife and kids."
He watched as the children changed, growing and lengthening until they became twin adult men dressed in the same black leather as Zakara. "You see, my accomplices have no problem in getting me what I desire," she purred contentedly as she placed her hands over their leather-clad crotches, squeezing hard. He looked at the men's faces, searching for any sign of pain. There wasn't any. "They're loyal to me unto death."
"I'll kill you for this."
"You won't, Raphael, because I let her live this time. If you come with me, she will live a perfectly boring life and die a mortal death again. Except this time, old age will claim her instead of me. If you love her as you say you do, you'll let her live."
His fists clenched at his sides, the anger boiling over. "I do love her and the only way she'll live is if I kill you."
Zakara's mouth opened to reveal a row of deadly sharp teeth, her tongue running over the tips of her fangs. "You don't want to kill me, Raphael. I promise that if you come with me, the past will be forgotten and you will take your rightful place at my side as the King of all Vampires," she offered, her long fingernails scraping the side of his face. "You see, I'm a forgiving woman. I've forgiven you for running away, for taking quite a bit of the coven with you. Hell, I've even forgiven you for tearing apart my father's grimoire and using the sun spell.” A darker mask descended over her features as her eyes glowed a deep, dark red. “I can only forgive so much. So you see, it would be in your best interest, as well as the interest of the fat toad, to come with me."
He was incredulous. "You, forgiving? Has your father's dominion frozen over yet?"
"Your smartass remarks will get you nowhere, Raphael." She looked at her claw-like nails and sighed deeply. "This conversation is beginning to bore me. Come, gather your things and let us be on our way."
“I'm not coming back to you, Zakara," he snapped. "Nothing you can do will make that happen again."
"Are you certain?" she purred in his ear, her grotesque tongue scraping against his flesh.
"Never more certain in my life."
"Tsk, tsk," she said, pulling away from him. "You shouldn't have said that, Raphael. You've presented me with a challenge that I must accept."
"That challenge was laid down centuries ago, Zakara. It's taken this long for you to accept it?" He knew the mocking tone of his voice irritated her, especially when he implied that she was slow to take action. "Honestly, I thought you were much smarter than that."
"Ugh!" she cried, scratching his face and leaving long trails of welts. He removed them with his power. "I see you've learned some of my tricks," she said with a satisfied grin.
"I've learned nothing from you, Zakara, and I never will. Get out of here before I really turn angry."
"You have not seen the last of me," she hissed as thick wisps of smoke filled the room, swirling around in a giant column. As fast as it had appeared, it disintegrated, taking Zakara and her devilish minions with her.
Raphael took a deep breath and brushed stray strands black hair out of his eyes. Why hadn't he seen this coming?
He leaned heavily against the wall, banging his fist against the old plaster lightly. The careful work he had done to gain Elizabeth's trust was shattered, much like a fragile wall. He had to start all over again.
Raphael stood up, his rage taking over. Zakara had to be stopped and soon, or else all would be lost again.
He stormed out of the house and jumped into the Jag, gunning the engine. The
re were only two people on earth who could help him and, thankfully, they were only miles away.
* * * *
"Class dismissed," she said glumly as the six o'clock class drew to a close. Chairs rattled as the students got up and put their books in bags and left the room.
Once the room was clear, Liz slumped in her chair behind her desk, her hands lying against the cold metal top. The class tonight had been horrible and her heart wasn't in it. It still lay shattered on the floor of Raphael's house where his 'gift' was. How could he do something like that to her?
"Thank goodness, you're here," he said from the doorway.
"Well, I was just leaving, Professor Chamberlain," she said as she picked up her bag and purse. "Please go amuse yourself at someone else's expense."
He blocked her exit with a thick arm. "You're not leaving here until I talk to you."
She felt the sting of shame strike her, causing her eyes to fill with tears. "I don't want to ever see you again, Raphael, not after what you've done to me."
"I need to explain," he protested as he pushed her back into the room and closed the door, locking it securely behind him.
She heard the snick of the tumbler fall into place and felt panic rise in her. "What are you doing?"
"Making sure that you hear me out and don't run off into the night."
Liz backed up, her heart beating in that terrible rhythm that only fear provoked. "No, Raphael, your wife gave me the entire charming story," she cried. "There's nothing left to tell."
He closed the distance between them, forcing her to retreat, her fitted skirt restricting her movement. "That's where you're wrong, Elizabeth. There is plenty left to tell."
She turned away and gripped the sides of the desk with both hands. "Just go away, Raphael, and we'll forget this ever happened."
His hands were immediately on her hips and she felt him press against her ass and part her cheeks slightly, his hard-on evident. "Can you forget that incredible night with my swollen cock inside of you? I know I haven't forgotten because that was the most precious gift that anyone has ever given me."
Before she could answer, his expert hands came around and cupped her breasts with gentle pressure. Her nipples burned beneath her cotton blouse as the blood rushed in and turned them into taut peaks. “Please ,Raphael, don’t do this to me."
Ranson, Tracy L. - Prince of Night [Bloodborn 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 8