Page 20 of Can't Bite This Feeling
Rapha lets out a snarl so feral it chills me to my marrow. His forehead drops to mine, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“I’m sorry,” he growls, his eyes dark with rage and regret. “I have to?—”
“No,” I beg, tears spilling. “Please, don’t leave me?—”
His lips crash into mine, desperate, brutal, as if he can pour every ounce of love into a single kiss.
When he pulls away, I see it in his eyes—the torment, the apology, the promise.
“I’ll come back to you,” he swears. “No matter what. Always.”
And then he’s gone, vanishing into thin air, leaving me aching, trembling, and utterly alone.
Chapter 5
Drusilla
It almost feels like home.
Almost.
Sitting in the back garden of the ivy-covered manor deep in the northern part of Screaming Woods, I can finally relax. A little.
The place is brimming with old magic and hidden doors that fascinate me. Sometimes I find libraries behind those doors, sometimes it’s a closet full of treasures that take my breath away. But sometimes, those doors hide hidden nightmares, and I’ve become cautious about opening them now.
Rapha moved us here three days ago, fulfilling the promises he made to me centuries ago. He’s brought me magnificent jewels and, once, cursed rubies that drew me into their sparkling depths before he pulled me away, hiding the jewels so that I wouldn’t become ensnared by them again. He brings me clothes with designer labels that settle perfectly on my curves, or so the enchanted mirror he brought me portrays.
What he hasn’t given to me with magic, he’s given to me with modern technology. I have a computer, a tablet, and a phone, all of which I’m terrified of. However, I do love television and often lose myself in the programs and movies for hours.
Still, I hate most of these modern “conveniences,” as he calls them. I stare out the window now, watching as my crisp white bed linens flutter in the breeze on the clothesline I put up between two trees. That awful drying machine can never compare with air-dried bed linens.
I’ve barely seen Rapha in the last three days as he’s been in the Below, fulfilling his obligations to Lucifer. He hasn’t touched me again, apart from a few chaste kisses, although he holds me possessively through the night, as if he can’t bear not to.
Despite his absence, I enjoy the silence and solitude here. The inn was pleasant but always noisy, so Rapha brought us to this place. He has a nasty habit of filling the beautiful space with magical objects and noisy machines. I pull the plugs on the machines when he leaves, which annoys him, but I don’t need them. I grew up in a time when everything had to be done by hand, and without those familiar tasks to ground me and give me time to meditate, I become flustered and overthink things.
“Dru?” Rapha calls from inside the house.
“I’m out here, Rapha,” I reply, looking toward the door.
I’m getting used to the additions to his appearance, but today, I see more darkness in him, like a cloud shimmering around him. It worries me. Is his work for Lucifer changing him?
“Why are you frowning, love?” Rapha asks, pulling me into his arms.
I rest my head against his chest and melt into his embrace.
“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re home.” I hold my face up for a kiss.
I’ve come to need these kisses, even if something or someone always seems to interrupt us before we can take it any further.
His lips brush mine softly at first, but I can taste the hunger coiled beneath, a wild, dangerous thing. His arms cage me against his chest, hard and unyielding, and his scent—dark spice and power—wraps around me like a spell I never want to break.
I’m desperate to be truly his again, but insecurity wiggles its way in.
He pauses, his mouth hovering over mine, his crimson eyes narrowed as they search my face.
“What is it?” he rumbles, tilting my chin up with one claw-tipped finger. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”
I try to look away, but he won’t let me. His touch is gentle but unmovable, as if he could hold back all the world’s darkness with a single hand.
