Raphael looked down at her, his expression one of bemused patience. “You are most welcome, Mirabelle."
Duncan stepped forward almost immediately, reaching down to help Mirabelle to her feet. She stumbled slightly, giddy, drunk almost, from the potent blood. “Come, little one,” he said. “We've planned a small celebration in your honor."
She gave him the delighted smile of a child. “A party? For me?"
"For you,” Duncan agreed. He took her arm and guided her out of the room. Jabril's witness was gone, apparently escorted away at some point by Juro's twin who was also absent. Cyn could only hope the escort would take him all the way to the airport and a plane back to Texas.
Juro stood waiting outside the open door, his usually solemn face creasing in fond amusement when Mirabelle greeted him like a long lost friend. Alexandra started to follow, but paused, turning back to look at Cyn.
"Cynthia?"
Cyn was watching Raphael as he stemmed the flow of blood, bending his arm and putting pressure above the wound. His face was expressionless, as though this sort of thing happened all the time, as if the blood dripping from his fingers to soak into the elegant Persian rug was an inconvenience, nothing more. His black eyes came up suddenly to meet hers, and Cyn was struck by a need so strong it would have driven her to her knees had she not had a chair to hang onto.
"Go ahead, Alexandra,” she said breathlessly. “I'll catch up."
Alexandra's burgeoning protest was aborted when Raphael's gaze shifted to her. There was nothing of brotherly warmth in that look. Alexandra sighed unhappily and spun around, her fashionable heels thudding softly against the carpet as she marched out the door which closed silently behind her.
Raphael let out a small relieved breath and leaned back to sit on the edge of his desk.
"Are you all right?” Cyn asked, indicating his wounded arm with a nod of her head.
Raphael gave her a crooked smile. “I love when you worry about me, my Cyn. No one else does."
She gave a little huff of disbelief. “Duncan worries about you,” she disagreed. “He's worse than a mother hen."
"Yes, well,” Raphael said softly. “That's not quite the same thing, is it?"
Cyn studied him from across the room, and then shook her head in disgust. “Who am I kidding?” she muttered. She walked over to the desk, taking advantage of the natural sway given to her h*ps by the high heels. Raphael remained motionless, but his careful gaze followed every movement.
When she was close enough to touch, he said, “Don't you want to join Mirabelle's celebration?"
Cyn's mouth curved upward. “I'd rather celebrate with her master.” She reached out and took his injured arm in her hand, drawing it up to her mouth. Eyes never leaving his, she ran her tongue slowly up the full length of the wound, taking time to lick the soft skin of his wrist before closing her mouth over his pulse point with a gentle kiss.
A growl rumbled deep in Raphael's chest, and he reached out to pull her between his spread legs, his uninjured arm snaking around her back, fingers splayed over her butt to press her close. His lips danced along the bare skin of her neck and shoulders, following the line of her jaw before he took her mouth in a long, slow promise of a kiss. “This is a beautiful dress, my Cyn,” he whispered against her lips. “How quickly can we get you out of it?"
She laughed in delight, fingers twisting through his thick hair, reveling in the feel of his lips against her skin, every nerve hyper-alive as the blood she'd licked off his arm sped through her system. She leaned fully against him and his arms came around to hold her.
He stood suddenly, taking her with him. “Come,” he said.
She smiled against his soft lips. “Do you think it will be that easy, my lord?"
"Sweet Cyn,” Raphael purred. “I have no intention of making it easy at all."
Cyn shivered at the promise beneath his dark voice as he picked her up and carried her across the room. The hard edges of a bookcase brushed her back before he reached out and flicked an unseen switch. The shelves next to her began to move, swiveling around to reveal a hidden door.
"A secret room,” she teased. “How mysterious."
"An elevator,” he corrected and backed her inside, slamming her against the wall and covering her body with his as the small box began to move downward.
Chapter Forty-seven
Raphael's office was on the second floor, but Cyn couldn't have said how far down the elevator traveled. She had no thought for anything but the need to touch and be touched by Raphael. His mouth devoured hers hungrily, their lips locked in a searing kiss that she never wanted to end as their bodies molded to one another, nothing separating them but a thin layer of clothing. And still it wasn't enough. She needed to feel him, bare skin against bare skin, the glide of muscles, the chiming of nerves stimulated to an almost painful intensity.
She was aware they'd left the elevator only because there was a deep-pile carpet beneath her feet when she kicked off her shoes. Raphael's cool fingers glided down her back as he unzipped the green dress, sliding the sleeves off her shoulders until it skimmed down her body and pooled around her feet. He hummed with pleasure at the sight of the lace containing her br**sts before it too fell to the carpet, exposing full mounds heavy with desire, rosy ni**les hard and aching for his touch. Cyn cried out as his mouth tasted first one pearled nub, then the other, his teeth grazing along the tender flesh to send bolts of desire charging through her entire body until she could barely remain standing.
While Raphael's mouth brought glorious torment to her br**sts, his hands roamed down her back, dipping beneath the narrow band of her thong and snapping it effortlessly, one more bit of lace added to the pile at her feet. Cyn moaned with the need to have him now, hard and fast, pounding between her legs. She tore his shirt away, buttons flying in her urgency. His belt was no obstacle, his zipper merely the gateway to his smooth shaft within. She slipped her hand beneath the fabric of his trousers and found him hard and ready, her stroking fingers dipping lower to caress his heavy sac.
She laid a row of kisses down his chest, following the line of silky hair down across the smooth flat expanse of his belly. She sank to her knees, sliding her hands down his h*ps to push his pants away and free his erection. Raphael hissed in surprise as she took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head and teasing the thickness of his cock, taking him deeper until he struck the back of her throat as her fingers continued to stroke his balls. He gripped her hair, holding her in place and groaning with pleasure, before reaching down to pull her to her feet and throw her onto what seemed like an endless expanse of bed.