“Relax,” Raphael said. Maria’s body sagged on command. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy at seeing her so fucking undone. “Lie back.” Her body was lifeless as her arms and legs sank into the soft mattress. Raphael wasn’t prepared for the effect seeing her so still and spent would have on his already destroyed and fucked-up mind. Every muscle in his body was still as he became transfixed on her heavy eyelids and her flushed pink mouth. He looked down and blinked at the hair in his hands. He had to see it through. Maria had to stay. She was his one. Raphael ignored how his heartbeat sped up seemingly in agreement. He ignored the new tightness that had taken root in his chest with the forbidden touch of her hand on his face.
“Sleep,” he rasped, realizing Maria awaited his order. Maria’s soft lips tilted up with a whisper of a smile. He felt his heart miss a thud at the sight, at the slight ghost of a dimple that caved in the side of her cheek. In seconds her eyes were shut and she fell into a deep slumber.
She was sleeping in his bed. No one ever slept in his bed but him. He should have demanded she go back to her room. He opened his mouth to do so, but no words came.
Kill her. Kill her now.
Raphael fought through the urge to strike, to crawl to Maria’s body and wrap her hair around her neck. To pull it tighter and tighter until her lips parted and she fought for her next breath that would never come.
Raphael saw it before him. He saw it so clearly it was as if it were real. “No,” he growled when Maria moved her leg, hurtling him back to the here and now. “No.” He dropped her hair to the bed. Forcing himself to back away, Raphael stepped onto the plush carpet. His breathing was rough, and it took all his will to leave her in one piece on the bed. Hands fisted, he rushed into the bathroom and yanked down his pants. His back hit the wall as he closed his eyes and tried to calm down. But it didn’t help. He didn’t feel. Didn’t ever want to feel.
Turning, he took his cock in his tight fist. His teeth gritted together and his neck corded, head thrown back as he squeezed. As he gripped his flesh so hard it brought him to his knees. The agony was furious, sending bolts of lightning pain through his body until he bit his tongue so hard he drew blood. But it was heaven, pure utopia as the torture and torment devoured his skin, his muscles, his bones and his blood, a veritable inferno of agonized rapture. Raphael moved his hand up and down his cock, rubbing the engorged flesh. He bit back a roar of release as he came, the pain of his seed spilling from his dick’s silicone prison enough to make him blanch, blood draining from his face. Raphael collapsed forward, his palms slapping flat on the tiled floor. His pants were around his ankles, and his cock throbbed so painfully that he had to clench his jaw just to keep hold of consciousness.
But then he smiled. He smiled widely, a quiet rough laugh escaping his lips. He laughed at the excruciating pain. It was decadent. It was perfection . . . it was all that he was worth. Raphael jerked, the last of his release dripping down his tense thighs.
When he’d gathered his composure, he staggered up off the floor. Kicking his soiled silk pants across the room, Raphael walked slowly to the mirror, hissing in pain with every step he made. The agony in his groin was a million needles stabbing into his skin. Meeting his reflection, Raphael saw his darkened golden eyes and messy dark hair. He rubbed his finger around his lips. He could smell Maria on his body. Taste her. She was everywhere. On his skin, in his mind . . . in his midnight, venomous soul.
He’d kissed the side of her mouth. He never kissed. It repulsed him. “What the fuck are you thinking?” he spat to his reflection, lip curling. “Pull it together. You’ve waited your whole life for her. For this moment.”
Raphael pushed the touch of her hand on his face from his mind, and gave himself over to his sinister, cold heart. His blood cooled, and the same numbness he lived with every day took its hold.
Treading silently on the carpet, he followed a path to the bed. He stopped beside the high mattress of his four-poster bed and watched Maria as she slept. Her sullied white dress was in a state of disarray, breasts and cunt freed and open to his hungry gaze.
Raphael climbed onto the bed and gently crawled to where she lay. Stopping at her side, he leaned over and splayed his hands above her body. As if yearning for his touch, her spirit attracted to his midnight soul, Maria shifted toward him and bared her neck. Raphael, consumed with his fantasy, tipped his head to the ceiling. He wasn’t sure if his little rose had been sent from heaven or hell. To either repay him for what God had let happen all those years ago, or punish him in the most fucked-up way.