Page 27 of The Nephilim's Finesse

Reading my expression, Raph sighed. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He got up off the bed, grabbed his shirt, and put it on as he left my cell. Only when the door was sealed shut with a loud clank could I finally relax.

The next day, Raph came in, books in hand. He laid them on the table, not saying a word, and turned to go.

“What are they for?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Reading.”

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “I meant, why are you giving me them? To make me more willing?”

He shook his head. “They’re for your entertainment. To make it easier.” He indicated with his hand in the general direction of my room.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You only had two questions today. See you tomorrow.”

When he left, I looked through the books. I expected to find an advice book on how to get over trauma or how to fix sexually damaged people. But I found neither. They were science books about the universe and quantum theory. I had once told him that I had an interest in those topics. He had listened to me and got them for me.

I’ve never received any gifts from anyone. It was so alien to me, but it made me smile. Someone had cared enough about me to think about what I'd like and what would please me. Yes, it was part of our deal. Yet, he had put thought into it and selected new releases on the topic. I had the feeling he didn’t do it because of our deal, not entirely. He gave me the books, not expecting to receive something in return. I had the genuine feeling he did it for another reason. I was important enough that he cared about me.

The next day, he came in and raised an eyebrow. Raph was waiting for me to make a move, tell him what had happened to me, and meet him in the middle. He was neither forcing me nor was he unapproachable. He was just expectant. However, I wasn't ready to be touched again; my body tensed, and I instinctively avoided eye contact, unable to bear the sight of him.

Whenever I tried to caress myself, those horrid memories surfaced and left me shaking for a long time. There was no way that my subconsciousness would let Raph touch me without breaking down.

After two minutes of silence, he turned. “See you tomorrow.”

I wanted to call him back, ask him my questions entitled to me, and even beg him to stay with me, talk to me, touch me. But no word left my lips. I enjoyed his company, even if he was my enemy. I was so torn between hating him for what he did to me and starting to like him for all the small kindnesses he showed.

Raph stepped into the room, having just taken a shower. He stood in the centre of the space, waiting for whatever would come next. It had been three days since I told him to leave, and I couldn't stand the silence and the tension between us any longer.

I swallowed and took all of my courage together. “I want you to try to touch me,” I whispered, hating how pathetic I sounded.

He looked up, surprise in his eyes. “You want me to touch you.” It sounded more like a statement than a question.

I nodded and held my breath. He came close, so close that I could feel his warmth radiating from him. The smell of summer nights and lavender surrounded me, enclosing me in a cocoon of comfort. After a minute, Raph took my hands and placed them carefully on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat under my fingers, his blood rushing through his veins. He lay his hands on my hips, pulling me closer. I closed my eyes, his head resting on top of mine. We stood like that for minutes, taking the other in, not saying a word for fear that it would shatter the moment. I needed him to be close, comfort me, and feel his heat on me.

“You smell so good,” he whispered.

“What do I smell like?” I asked, my voice quivering with anticipation.

He thought for a moment. “Ripe summer fruit, sweet jasmine and you. Something wild and unique.” His lips brushed my hair as he spoke, sending a wave of heat cascading through me.

I inhaled deeply, my head resting against his chest. “You smell like a balmy summer night, like spicy herbs and fragrant lavender combined with the unique scent that is yours alone.”

“That sounds nice.” His voice was thick with emotion.

I shuddered in his arms. “It smells nice.”

We nestled there in silence for a while until he took a step back, bringing space between us. I could feel the tension crackling in the air as his eyes searched mine, filled with emotion I couldn't place.

His eyes searched mine as he rasped out, “You want me to touch you.” It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded as an answer.

Carefully, Raph looked into my eyes as his fingers removed my blouse and then my bra with featherlight strokes. His eyes moved along my body, as if he was devouring me with his gaze. With just his fingertips, Raph travelled over my skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He glided along my arms, over my collarbone, to my breasts. Each finger caressed my skin like a whisper, sending chills up and down my spine. Like before, he cupped my breasts, and his thumbs grazed the sensitive middle ever so delicately. My body let out a sigh of pleasure as I threw my head back and closed my eyes, relishing in the sensations that swept through me. I bit down on my bottom lip as a wave of pleasure rushed through me. When my legs went weak, he guided me to the bed.

Stripping off all my clothes, I sprawled on the bed, leaning back on the headboard and opened my legs to invite him in. Raph sat on my bed next to my knees. He watched me as he lay his hand on my knee in slow motion, giving me the opportunity to stop him anytime. I didn’t, but the second he touched me, my knee flinched at the contact.

Hand on my knees, forcing them apart. The smell of alcohol and unwashed male drifted into my nose. His cruel laugh as he would enjoy the next few minutes doing things I didn’t want him to.

---