Venice Vampyr: Final Affair (12 page)

BOOK: Venice Vampyr: Final Affair
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Raphael sighed and trained his eyes on a movement ahead of him.   It was a man, who staggered along the alley. The scent emanating from him confirmed that he was drunk. That would make it even easier. He wouldn’t even have to enthrall him to approach and feed from him. The drunk would never remember. And the alcohol swimming in the man’s blood wouldn’t make him drunk .

Raphael approached the man. “Good evening, my fellow.”

The man turned his head, his eyes barely focusing, his mouth tilted up in a stupid grin. “Huh?”

The time for conversation being at an end, Raphael put his arm around the drunk’s shoulder, then turned him into his chest before his fangs descended and drove into his neck. There was barely a shudder by the man. His fangs were coated with a substance that dulled all pain, thus making it possible to feed from a human without causing screams of pain.

As the rich, alcohol-infused blood coated his tongue and ran down his throat, Raphael let his senses relax. He closed his eyes and only listened to the demands of his body. He drew on the vein, long and hard, taking the life-sustaining liquid into him. His only thought was how much he wanted this neck to be Isabella’s. To drink from her, nourish himself with her fragrant blood, gorge himself on her essence, while he drove his insatiable cock into—

A scream pierced the silence of the alley.

***

Isabella only realized she’d screamed when she saw Raphael’s head snap in her direction, releasing the neck of the man he’d had his teeth locked into. When his piercing eyes pinned her, she saw the blood drip from his lips and run down his chin. His mouth was open, and she could clearly see the white of his fangs. Paralyzed, she stared at him.

She’d heard stories about creatures like him but never believed any. She’d always thought they were mere fairy tales to frighten children. But what she saw in front of her now was not a fairy tale, not something she could dismiss.

She was married to a vampire. A creature that drank blood and sucked the life out of humans.

The moment Raphael let the man sag against the wall and came toward her, she found her strength again and ran.

“Isabella,” he called behind her, “Stop!” The voice came closer, and she knew he was chasing her. She was glad she wore breeches, making it easier to run. She’d hidden them under the bed, knowing it would take her less time to get dressed in the dark than if she had to step into a dress. The moment Raphael had left her chamber, she’d jumped out of bed and gotten ready to follow him.

But now, she almost wished she’d caught him with a mistress instead. It would be easier to deal with—and safer.

Her thighs burned as she continued to flee even though she knew she could never outrun him. The sound of his boots on the cobblestone street closed in on her. Her lungs stinging, she pushed herself harder and ran faster than she ever had.

“Isabella, please!” Then his hand gripped the collar of her coat and pulled her back.

“No!” She slipped on the wet stone and would have fallen had Raphael not pulled her against his chest and imprisoned her within his arms. Like chains, they closed around her, cutting off any movement of her upper body. But she still had her legs. She kicked them back, trying to make him loosen his grip on her, but to no avail.

“Stop struggling, Isabella. I would never hurt you. Please trust me.”

“No, let me go, you monster!”

His mouth was at her ear, his breath caressing her neck, when he answered her. His voice was low and soothing. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this, but I’m not a monster. I’m still the man who loves you.”

Tears threatened to burst to the surface, but she forced them back. “No. Let me go. Please let me go.”

She felt him shake his head behind her. “Never, my angel.”

Then Raphael started moving, carrying her in front of him. Renewed panic gripped her. He’d take her to a dark place and then drain her of her blood. She kicked her legs back again, hitting his shins. “No! Where are you taking me?”

“Stop struggling, it’s no use. We’re going home.”

But the direction he took wasn’t where her house lay. “You’re lying. Home is the other way.”

“My home,” he corrected and slid his lips against her cheek. A shiver ran down her body, and she didn’t know whether it was caused by fear or was merely her body’s usual reaction to his touch.

Isabella gave up her struggle against him, knowing it was useless. He was bigger and infinitely stronger than she. It was better to preserve her strength so she could attempt an escape later.

Now some things made sense. Dante had been concerned that she would find out that Raphael was a vampire. And his nightly absences? Clearly he’d been out to attack people and feed on their blood. And she would be next, now that she’d uncovered his secret and he wouldn’t have to hide it from her anymore. Would it hurt? How long would it take until he’d drained her? Would he toss her lifeless body into one of the canals?

Isabella shuddered at the ugly thoughts. She’d married a stranger to save her reputation, and now she would lose her life because of it. Was this the punishment she would receive for the days and nights of unbridled pleasures she’d indulged in with Raphael? Would she have to pay for her sins in this world, and not the next?

Just remembering the things she’d allowed him to do to her made her shiver. All the forbidden pleasures he’d unleashed, the way he’d ravished her—and she’d loved every debauched second of it, had even asked for more, dared him to go further. She’d allowed him to use her body as only a whore would, yet it had given her more pleasure than she’d ever known existed.

“We’re here.” Raphael pushed a door open and carried her inside. The light was dim, only a few wall sconces illuminating the hallway, but she recognized it nevertheless. They were back at his home, his den, his lair. Whatever a vampire called it. She was at his mercy now.

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Raphael released Isabella and closed the door to his bedchamber behind them. She instantly moved away from him, and he couldn’t really blame her. She was frightened after what she’d witnessed. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it on a chair.

“Sit down, my love, make yourself comfortable.”

She straightened her spine and glared at him. “I’d rather stand.”

“I think it’s only fair to tell you that any attempt at trying to run away from me will be a waste of your time. I’m faster, I’m stronger, and I’m motivated.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a clean handkerchief, wiping the remaining blood off his face. “I’m sorry you had to see this. But you shouldn’t have followed me.”

When he took a step toward her, she took several back. “Don’t come any closer,” she warned, her voice shaky. He could hear her frantic heartbeat.

“It’s very hard to make love from a distance like this.”

Her eyes widened. “I won’t let you touch me.”

“You will, and you will do it willingly.”

“Never. I won’t let a monster like you touch me.”

“Isabella, please think for a moment. I know you’re in shock, but try to remember the last few days. Was there ever a time when I hurt you?”

He felt her hesitation and knew she couldn’t answer his question in the affirmative. But her lips remained sealed. Instead, she lifted her chin in defiance.

“Are you afraid of me?”

There was an almost unperceivable nod of her head.

Raphael swallowed. The last thing he wanted was a wife who was afraid of him. He had to convince her that she had nothing to fear from him. The only way to achieve this was to make himself vulnerable to her. It was a risk he had to take. If he didn’t, he would lose her for good.

“Fine, Isabella, you win.” He opened the buttons of his shirt.

“What are you doing?” There was panic in her voice again.

“I’m undressing.” He tossed his shirt to the floor, then stepped out of his boots.

“I told you I won’t let you touch me.”

His trousers dropped to the ground, and he stood naked in front of her. “I won’t touch you, but you’ll touch me.”

She shook her head, pulling back further.

Raphael walked to the bed and opened the drawer of his nightstand. He lifted his gun out and placed it on top of it. When he pulled out the leather restraints and turned back to her, she shrieked.

“Oh God!”

“Isabella. Those are not for you. They are for me. Inside the leather, there’s a thin lining of silver, a metal no vampire can break. I want you to tie me to the bed. I will be at your mercy, and you can assure yourself that I’m no danger to you.” He glanced back at the nightstand, and he noticed her follow his look. “The gun is loaded with silver bullets. They’ll kill a vampire. If you think I’m a danger to you, use it.”

Isabella shook her head. “It’s a trick. As soon as I come close to you, you’ll attack me.”

“No.” He went to the bed and laid down. “I will tie my ankles to the bed first, then you’ll do my hands. I trust you. Now I want you to trust me.”

Raphael knew he was crazy proposing this, but he had to make her trust him. If she killed him, it really didn’t matter, because a life without Isabella made no sense anymore. If she couldn’t accept him like this, then it was better if she ended his life now and didn’t let him suffer the loss of her love.

Continuously watching her, he tied first one ankle, then the second one to the foot of the bed, keeping enough length so he could still bend his legs. Then he held out his hand with the remaining two ties. “Take them. Bind them tightly.”

There was hesitation in her steps as she approached. He saw her glance at the nightstand with the gun, then back at him.

“Tie me up, Isabella.” He placed the leather straps onto the bed next to him and held his arms up against the headboard with the loops which had been fashioned as restraints.

Another few steps and she stood next to the bed. He nodded as she reached for a strap. He could see her perspire, a thin lining of moisture building on her brow. He inhaled her scent and felt himself harden. Instinctively he dropped his eyes to his cock. Hard and thick, it rose.

When he looked back at Isabella, he caught her staring at his erect shaft. Then she reached for his wrist and tied the first leather strap around it. She secured it tightly against the restraining hook despite her shaking hands. Not letting him out of her sight, she stepped around the bed and did the same with his other wrist.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He tested the restraints. They held. He’d never been so vulnerable in his life. But Isabella had saved his life once, and he hoped she’d find it in her heart to not take away the life she’d given him.

***

Raphael had allowed himself to be tied up, but would he truly not be able to break the restraints? What if he was lying to her? Isabella stepped around the bed, keeping close watch on him. When she reached the nightstand, she looked at the gun. From the corner of her eye she could see him watch her, but he didn’t move, made no attempt to free himself from the leather straps. But it wasn’t proof enough that he was truly tied up.

Isabella gripped the gun and turned to him, pointing it at his chest.

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, only to be replaced by disappointment. He lowered his lids. His voice was flat when he spoke. “I gambled and I lost. I had hoped your love would be strong enough, but I was wrong.” He looked at her. “I love you, Isabella. The last five days were the happiest of my entire life. I’m sorry that you don’t feel the same for me. Aim for my heart and make it quick.”

Then he closed his eyes and inhaled.

“Why did you allow yourself to be tied up by me?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does to me.”

His eyes remained closed. “You’ve made your decision, my angel.”

But she needed an answer. “Open your eyes. Look at me. Tell me why!” Isabella swallowed back a sob.

When his eyes flew open, he pinned her with a surprised look. “You want to know why? I let you tie me because I need you to understand that I’m prepared to do anything for your love. I need you to trust that I would never harm you. And the only way I can do that is to show you that you hold all the power. And now that I’ve satisfied your curiosity, please end my misery, because a life without your love is worse than a merciful death.”

She recognized it then: Raphael loved her, more than anybody had ever loved her. She could feel it deep in her heart. How could she kill a man like that? How could she allow this love to slip through her fingers? Did it matter that it was the love of a vampire? Yet—

“Do you kill the humans you feed from?” She voiced the fear she carried in her heart. Was he a bloodthirsty murderer?

“No, my love. I don’t kill unless my own life is threatened. I only feed from them.”

Isabella exhaled the breath she’d been holding. He wasn’t a killer. She allowed her eyes to wander over his naked body, sprawled out in front of her: vulnerable, yet aroused. His tied hands didn’t look like those of a monster. They were the hands that had caressed her, given her pleasure beyond belief.

Dropping her gaze lower, she feasted her eyes on his cock. Hard and heavy it curved upwards and lay against his flat belly. With it, he’d driven her to ecstasy every single day since she’d met him. Could she really kill somebody that perfect, simply because of what he was?

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