Raphael(50)

He reached out and snagged the belt on her robe, pulling her closer. “Why is that?"

"I shouldn't have left the other day without ... I don't know, leaving a note or something. It was ... a little overwhelming. You're a little overwhelming."

His eyes flashed with sudden anger. “And so you run to someone who does this to you?” He jerked his head toward her newly healed shoulder.

"I was attacked, Raphael, and I'm apologizing here, so don't be an a**hole."

Raphael smiled then, a slow, predatory baring of teeth. “Asshole? I don't think anyone has dared use that word to me in a few hundred years, at least not in my hearing."

"Which is probably why you're such a big one sometimes.” Cyn grinned up at him, then sobered. “Listen, I've got a lot of information for you—"

"Later,” he said. “I want you now."

"Yes,” she said simply.

A single tug of his fingers made quick work of the tie to her robe, pushing it aside as his hand slipped around her waist, gliding over her bare skin. He crushed her mouth in a hot, demanding kiss and her body responded instantly, the soft leather of his jacket caressing her br**sts as she wrapped her arms around his neck, as the zipper's teeth scraped over her nipple.

"Raphael,” she whispered hungrily and met his greed, pressing herself against his long, lean length, feeling his erection already hard and waiting for her. His soft growl rumbled against her mouth, rolling down her throat and trembling in her chest. She made a soft needy sound, and he swept her up, his mouth never leaving hers as he carried her to the bed.

* * * *

Raphael pushed aside the silky robe that had taunted him with glimpses of her full br**sts, her soft curves. His mouth traveled from her lips to her wounded shoulder, lingering on the delicate new skin, then moving down to nip gently at first one breast, then the other, until he had taken each of her sweet, firm pearls into his mouth, grazing them slightly with his teeth. It was enough to draw the faintest sip of blood, enough to bow her back with desire. While his mouth nibbled one breast, his fingers caressed the other, pinching the nipple into an aching tenderness, feasting on the bounty of his Cyn's luscious body.

Over and over, she cried out her pleasure, little moans that sent sparks of hunger coursing through his body, driving him nearly mad with the need to sink his teeth into her neck, his c*ck into her pulsing heat. She was tugging at his clothing, complaining softly as her hands sought to touch his skin, tearing away his jacket and yanking the sweater over his head. He stood to rip off his denims, and Cyn came with him, her slender fingers opening the buttons on his fly, slipping beneath the heavy fabric to find his stone-hard shaft. She took him in her mouth, shoving his jeans down below his hips, sucking him deeper as his full length was freed, her tongue playing along his sensitive head. He groaned, struggling to control the desire to plunge into her throat, to f**k her hot, wet mouth as he would the slick heat between her legs. He gripped her head in his big hands, fingers twisting in her hair, as she glided up and down, her wicked tongue licking him like a favorite candy.

When he could stand no more, he tightened his hold and pulled her away with a muttered oath, pushing her back onto the bed, then following and trapping her there, tasting her, teasing her with biting kisses until she cried out, tearing at his hair and forcing him down to the silky smooth V between her legs. Cupping her ass with both hands, he lifted her to him, spreading her legs, opening her wide to his exploring mouth. His tongue slid into her swollen folds, probing inside her, stiffening like a small cock, then stroking upward to her hard clit. She gasped in shock as his tongue circled that sensitive nub, rousing it to hardness then biting down to draw the sweetest blood of all, the taste lingering as Cyn screamed in orgasm, her body bucking against the grip of his hands, his mouth.

Shudders rippled her muscles beneath him as he lapped up the delicious nectar of her orgasm, eliciting renewed cries of pleasure from his Cyn. “Sweet, my Cyn,” he whispered, blowing softly on her sensitive clit. “So sweet."

"Please,” she whispered. “Oh God, Raphael, please."

Desire overwhelmed him. He lifted himself from between her legs and drove his c*ck deep inside her with a powerful thrust that lifted her from the bed. She groaned with pleasure, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, trapping him, holding him in the volcanic heat of her slick sheath. He lowered his head to claim her mouth once again, mingling the tastes of their bodies, tasting himself on her tongue, letting her taste her own sweetness on his. He plunged in and out, driven by a lust he'd never felt before, claiming her, marking her as his own so that no other vampire, no other man, would ever dare take her from him.

When he felt his cl**ax building, felt the tightening in his balls that told him he wouldn't be able to resist her temptation much longer, he let his mouth find the sweet vein in her neck, let his fangs run out to caress her sweat-warmed skin and sink into her. Hot blood slid down his throat as his cl**ax shot deep inside her. Cyn convulsed beneath him, joining him in a searing orgasm, muffling her screams against his shoulder as her nails clawed open his back.

He collapsed on top of her, his tongue lapping lazily at the trickle of blood from her neck, feeling her heart pound against his chest. Her legs fell open and he shifted slightly, taking the weight of his body off her slender frame. His semirigid c*ck slipped from within, and she murmured a small protest, one long leg coming up to wrap around his hips, holding him close, nestling him in the warm, wet valley between her legs. Raphael raised his head and chuckled softly. She opened her eyes at the sound and a fresh bolt of lust stabbed his groin at the fierce possessiveness in her green gaze. He growled low in his throat. A hundred nights, a thousand, ten thousand would not be enough to sate his passion for this one. He felt his c*ck stirring, felt the need to take her again and again hardening his flesh. He'd never felt such hunger for a woman, mortal or immortal. What would he sacrifice in the face of such desire? What would he give up to spend his nights in her bed?

"You are temptation itself, sweet Cyn,” he murmured, raising himself on his hands, away from the enticing heat of her body. He lowered his head to kiss her soft mouth one more time, then stood, snagged his jeans and headed for the bathroom and a cold shower.

Cynthia lay on the bed and heard the click of the bathroom door closing, heard the rush of water in the shower. Something had been lost in that moment when he chose to walk away, something elusive and precious. The warm contentment in her stomach turned cold and she felt suddenly na**d and exposed.

She rolled out of bed quickly, all but running into her closet to grab some clothes before hurrying down the stairs to the second bathroom. She had a feeling Raphael didn't want company in the shower, and she didn't want to see the look on his face when he turned her away.

Chapter Forty-one

When Cyn came out of the guest room, Raphael was already sitting at the island counter in the kitchen. He was turned away from her, cell phone in hand, speaking in a low voice. She didn't say anything, but went directly upstairs to her office and retrieved the notes she'd made earlier. Armored with her folder full of information and a job to do, she took the steps back down and joined him in the kitchen.

His dark eyes followed her every movement as she took a cold bottle of water from the fridge and sat on a bar stool, the width of the island between them.

"I did some checking today on the house I was taken to last night,” she began. “It was purchased six months ago by Odessa Exports, which is a fairly transparent shell company. They've tried to conceal their trail, but I'm pretty sure I've identified the real owners of the whole mess.” She risked a quick glance and found him staring at her intently. But whatever he was feeling was too deeply buried for her to discern in that blank, beautiful face. “Also, you probably want to know that someone's running a blood bank or feedlot, whatever you guys call it, not ten miles from here in Decker Canyon. I'm assuming it's not you."

"Who touched you?” He said it with such offended possessiveness that she wanted to scream at him. What right did he have to feel such outrage? He clearly didn't want her; what did he care if someone else did?

She didn't look at him. He was too good at knowing what she was thinking. “That would be your buddy Albin. Although he was only supposed to taste. Someone else was saving me for the main course."

"Who?"

"I don't know. They never said his name and I never saw him. By the time he arrived, I was trying to get back to my car, and I had other things on my mind,” she added dryly. “I talked to two other vamps before Albin monopolized my time. A big dope named Tommy and...” Her voice faltered as she remember Benita wrapping herself around the Spanish vamp. She swallowed hard and continued. “A dark-haired pretty boy with a heavy Spanish accent. Not Mexican, but Castilian. He ... he knew who I was, knew I was working for you."