Venice Vampyr (Venice Vampyr #1)

every lick and every kiss, the pleasure in her body built. Forgotten was the conversation she’d overheard and the implied threat within it. All she felt was Raphael’s eagerness to give her pleasure and make love to her.
    Within seconds, she felt the heat in her body spiral out of control. His tongue was relentlessly lapping against her pearl, turning it hard. With every lick and every pull, little explosions ignited in her belly.
    Isabella buried her hands in the bed linen, grabbing the fabric in her fists as she fought against her own body’s reaction to him. But there was no fighting what he did to her. He gave her pleasure and catapulted her into a world of bliss without asking for anything in return. It made his intimate ministrations even sweeter. When his lips closed around her center of pleasure and tugged, she let go and allowed herself to surrender to him. The waves that followed lulled her into sleep.
    The last thing she felt was Raphael pulling her into the curve of his body, pressing her back against his chest, whispering into her ear, “I’ll never hurt you.”
     



Chapter Fourteen
     
    Raphael woke in the early afternoon with Isabella still tucked into his chest. She hadn’t moved all night, and it pleased him. He’d felt her apprehension the night before and feared that she regretted what they’d done. That’s why he had made love to her with words alone. He didn’t want her to feel regret. He wanted her to know how much he appreciated what she’d given him.
    Despite the things Dante had said, he wasn’t going to let anything get between him and his wife. Not even his hunger, a hunger he’d felt immediately upon waking. He hadn’t fed since the night he’d nearly drowned, and could now feel his body craving the blood it needed to sustain itself.
    He would have to feed tonight. Not from the lovely neck of his beautiful wife, who still slumbered in his arms, but from a stranger. Because about one thing Dante was right: he couldn’t ever let her find out that he was a vampire. She would run from him. And he didn’t want to lose her.
    By the time Isabella woke, Raphael was dressed and had arranged a meal for her. He knew she would be hungry. When he joined her in the dining room, which was kept in relative darkness by keeping the shutters closed but every candle in the room blazing, she had almost finished her plate.
    He took a seat opposite her. She appeared nervous when she looked at him, her eyelids slightly lowered as if trying to avoid him. Was she still embarrassed by what had happened the night before?
    “Shall I prepare a plate for you?” she asked and made a motion to get up toward the small buffet one of his servants had prepared.
    “Thank you, my love, but I ate while you were still asleep.”
    How long he’d be able to hide from her that he wasn’t eating, he had no idea. His vampire body only tolerated blood and liquids but never solid food. He would have to come up with all kinds of excuses so Isabella didn’t become suspicious.
    “Oh. I’ve never slept that long.” She blushed a delightful pink.
    “I exhausted you last night.” He paused and noticed how she lowered her gaze even further as her cheeks turned darker. “And I’m planning to do it again tonight.” He ignored her shocked gasp. “Now, eat. So you’ll have your strength.”
    He loved rattling her, making her lose her composure. Yes, most of all he loved peeling away those layers of proper lady she piled so high onto herself, because underneath was a woman who harbored raw passion and unbridled lust. Just the way he liked it.
    “When will we return home?”
    “Do you not like it here?”
    “Your house is very luxurious, very grand. But I have a business to run, and all my things are at my home.”
    It was a fair reason. He couldn’t argue with it. Besides, in order to find out more about Massimo, who surely would want to intrude on her again soon, it would be better to remain at her house. “Very well, my angel, we’ll return to your home tonight.”
    “Why not now?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Why the rush? Do you hate it here so much?”
    Isabella hastily shook her head. “No. Of course not.” But her expression said otherwise.
    “It’s Dante, isn’t it? You don’t like him.” Not that his brother was the most charming man. He could be downright annoying when he set his mind to it. And clearly, he had his reservations about Isabella, and maybe she’d picked up on those