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surging through her,
Raphael pushed her away. Picking her up, he
laid her gently on the bed and
removed the rest of his clothes, throwing them
down with her own.
She was confused. Was it that bad. "Was it
something I did."
His sensual smile lit up the room, making her
heart skip several beats.
"I want you but not like this, Elizabeth. I want us
to take the magical trip
together," he said as he slid under the covers
next to her.
She'd never felt more wanted her in life. Here
Raphael was, wanting
her as she was, not as some Barbie doll.
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.
The Unforgiven: RAPHAEL Tracy L. Ranson
50
Without warning, fear surged 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.
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. Suddenly, the kiss became
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.
Without warning, Raphael broke the kiss. He
stared down directly into
her blue contact tinted eyes. "No pain," he
whispered as he lowered his head
against her neck. "No pain."
She felt the force of him enter her and felt the
bliss flowing from him.
Urgently, she arched her hips, begging for more
of him, deepening his
thrusts.
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 quickly 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 beside her flesh, flowing
through his veins like the finest
wine. He didn't take much this time, like the
previous time. It was just
enough to mark her.
She felt Raphael tremble and collapse on her,
sweaty but 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 but 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." He didn't hurt her
physically but now 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
The Unforgiven: RAPHAEL Tracy L. Ranson
51
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."
The Unforgiven: RAPHAEL Tracy L. Ranson
52
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.
Panic flooded her. What if this was his way of
saying she was a
sucker.
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 but 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,
re-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 corner 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
The Unforgiven: RAPHAEL Tracy L. Ranson
53
ceiling. What did Raphael want. Was he going to
show her some more of
his vampire-like tricks.
She pressed the 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. 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 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]