Page 50 of Raphael
His words send waves of emotion crashing over me, threatening to drown me in their intensity. I wrap my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer, chasing that elusive ecstasy only he can give me.
With each powerful thrust, we get lost in a world of passion and desire, a realm where our bodies become vessels of raw pleasure. The room fades away, leaving us enveloped in a cocoon of heat and ecstasy.
Raphael’s hands roam over my trembling body, his touch igniting a path of fire wherever he caresses. He ravishes my neck with fiery kisses, igniting a burning desire within me as he maps out every inch of my body with his lips. I gasp and arch beneath him as his fingers find their way to the most sensitive parts of me, sending shocks of pleasure cascading through my veins.
Our connection deepens with each lingering touch, each breathless whisper that escapes our lips. Our souls meld together in this dance of desire, merging into one entity that craves nothing but the other’s touch. Time becomes insignificant, lost in the abyss of our passion.
As our bodies move in perfect unison, the intensity builds to an unbearable crescendo. Beads of sweat form on our foreheads as we surrender to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through us. The euphoria becomes all-consuming, blurring the line between pain and pleasure until they merge into one intoxicating sensation.
I clutch onto Raphael with a desperation born from fear of losing myself in this storm of emotions. His name becomes a mantra on my lips as I’m consumed by waves of ecstasy that crash over me relentlessly. Colors explode behind my closed eyes, and for a moment, I feel weightless, suspended in this ocean of bliss.
And then, my body tenses, muscles coiling like tightly wound springs ready to release. I soar higher and higher until I reach the pinnacle, and with one last primal cry of pleasure, I unravel in his arms. My release is explosive, radiating through every nerve ending, shattering any remnants of control. Raphael’s climax follows suit, his body trembling against mine as he finds his own release, his breath hot against my ear.
We cling to each other, bodies slick with sweat and hearts pounding in sync. The room is filled with the aftermath of our passion—a tangled mess of sheets, scattered clothes, and the sweet scent of our lovemaking lingering in the air.
As our breathing steadies and our bodies gradually relax, Raphael brushes a tender kiss against my forehead. “I love you, beautiful...” he whispers, his voice filled with a vulnerability that pierces straight through me.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I trace the lines of his face, etching this moment into my memory. “And I love you,” I reply, my voice barely more than a breath.
In that instant, time seems to stand still. We are suspended in our bubble of intimacy, where nothing else exists except the fragile connection between us. It is in these stolen moments that we find solace from the chaos of the world—a sanctuary where we can be true to ourselves without fear or judgment.
But like all fleeting things, our sanctuary eventually fades away. The weight of reality settles upon us once more, and we untangle ourselves reluctantly, knowing we must return to the world.
Raphael reaches out to cup my face, his touch gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. “We’ll find a way...” he whispers, his voice laced with both tenderness and steely resolve, “to reclaim what was stolen from you. I give you my word.”
A silent nod is the only response I can muster, refusing to let the tears betray my facade of strength. Deep down, I know I’m not okay. The nightmares claw at me, dragging me deeper into a pit of fear and anxiety. And with every sunrise, the thought of stepping outside this apartment fills me with dread. Raphael sees it all, though I’ve yet to confess my deepest fears to him. He reads it in my trembling hands and haunted eyes, an unspoken understanding between us.
He pulls me to him in silence, wrapping me in his strong arms, corded in muscle. And as we lose ourselves in each other, the fears and shadows of the past recede, leaving only the here and now, the unbreakable connection that joins us as one. In Raphael’s arms, I’m not just safe but cherished, my wounds healed by his enduring love.
CHAPTER32
Raphael
Before the sun rises,a tranquil stillness envelops the earth. But inside me, a tempest brews, fierce and unrelenting. As I lay next to Helena, watching her slumber, her gentle inhalations stand a serene counterpoint to the tumultuous battles raging in my mind. My heart swells with an all-consuming emotion, almost agonizing in its intensity—a possessive, unwavering devotion unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
As the first faint glow of dawn begins to seep through the curtains, my phone vibrates softly on the nightstand. A sense of foreboding grips me as I read the cryptic message flashing across the screen, its contents casting a dark shadow over the fragile peace we’ve carved out for ourselves amidst the chaos.
It’s from Draven, Helena’s former fiancé, and an unlikely ally in our fight against the demon Kane. “Found him. Must move fast.”
The words coil in my stomach like a viper ready to strike. Kane––the hidden puppet master behind Helena’s suffering, the very architect of the darkness that haunts her still... in our hands at last.
I can’t stop the smug smirk that curls my lips. Only devils seek vengeance, but what I desire goes beyond such a petty feeling. What I yearn for is righteous retribution, and I will exact it with every ounce of my heavenly fury.
Draven is up to something sinister, and the weight of this revelation crushes my soul. It’s a burden I hesitate to share with Helena, knowing it could destroy the hard-earned peace she has found in my arms.
But secrets have no place between us. Not anymore.
Beside me, Helena stirs from her slumber, drawn out by my tense energy. Her maroon eyes flutter open, still hazy with sleep, but quickly sharpening with concern. “Raphael, what’s wrong?” Her voice is husky with drowsiness, yet edged with alarm.
I hesitate, conflicted. The protector in me wants to shield her from anything that might hurt or upset her, especially after all she’s endured. But the lover in me knows she deserves candor, always.
I take a deep, steadying breath before deciding on total honesty. Reluctantly, I show Helena the ominous message that just flashed across my phone’s screen.
Her reaction is immediate, all traces of sleep vanishing from her piercing maroon eyes. “Draven?” she stammers, panic creeping into her voice. In a fit of anxiety, she flails in the silken sheets and tumbles gracelessly off the bed.
“Shit!” she cries out as she hits the floor.
I lean over the edge of the mattress, concern creasing my brow. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
