Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Then, he brought the rosary closer to his face, eyes scanning the crucifix in detail. Maria saw when something within him changed. His body tensed, and the cords in his neck stood out prominently with how tightly he was gritting his teeth. His face reddened with what looked like unadulterated rage.
Maria quickly pulled up the straps of her bra, then the sleeves of her dress. As she moved to right her collar, Raphael’s head snapped up. But Maria didn’t see the beautiful smile or hungry expression she had previously been on the receiving end of. Raphael’s face vowed to inflict pain on her.
Before she had time to move from the door and try to put some space between her and him, Raphael thrust out his arm and wrapped his hand around Maria’s neck. The back of her head slammed against the wood, her shoulder blades taking the brunt of the impact as she was thrust backward. Breath spilled from her mouth as she was lifted off the floor and to the very tip of her toes. Maria tried to claw at Raphael’s strong arms, but his touch was too strong. Golden eyes filled with rage as he glared at her terrified face. “Who are you?” he snarled, voice savage. His full lips tightened as his teeth were bared. “How did you know where to find me? Did they send you?” Maria began kicking her legs, trying to break from his hold. Raphael paid her protests no mind. Instead he dangled the crucifix in her face. “I know these rosaries. The ‘B’ on His chest. I know who it belongs to. The filth who wear it.” Raphael tucked the beads into his pocket, and Maria’s eyes widened, fear becoming the only sensation her heart could feel. Fear and confusion. Raphael pushed her long hair aside and wrapped a second hand around her neck, adjusting the grip to completely stop her breathing. Maria pleaded with her eyes for Raphael to spare her, but her vision began to darken as he watched her gasp and fight to survive. And then she saw it, the hungry smile gracing his beautiful face. Smiling as she began to lose consciousness. Maria never stopped clawing at his arms, his hands. She would fight to the last second.
But as her body weakened and the darkness in her eyes deepened, Maria kept her gaze fixed on the beautiful man before her. The man who would send her soul to reside in heaven among the angels and saints.
This man they called Raphael.
Her beautiful killer.
Chapter Four
Her pulse weakened under his thumbs, once as fast as a butterfly’s wings, now as slow as a dying deer trudging helplessly through molasses. Raphael was caught in a red haze. The crucifix was burning a hole in his pocket. The Brethren. She was somehow connected to the Brethren. Raphael had recognized that “B” embossed on Christ’s chest the minute he held it in his hands. That “B” had been imprinted on his ruined soul. He could never forget it. It had scarred his youth.
This woman, his fantasy made flesh, his biggest temptation, was with the motherfucking Brethren. She flailed under his hands as she fought for life. But his every instinct called for him to end her, to send her to hell where she belonged, along with the other rapists disguised as priests. But as Raphael’s gaze fell to her long hair, hair that hung to below her ass, his hands began to slacken.
Long hair.
Long, thick hair.
Hair that he could wrap around her neck . . . pull tighter and tighter, until . . .
Raphael snarled, the tormented sound immediately swallowed by the padded walls around him.
The woman was perfect, the one he’d been waiting all his life for. Thick, long hair. Strong enough to withstand the pulls, the tugs . . . strong enough to kill her . . . bid her an eternal goodnight. And her neck, a neck his hands fit perfectly around. Fragile perfect bones, just the right length and width. He stared at his fingers on her pale skin, the softness like butter under his palm.
Raphael groaned, heat pulsing in his groin.
He might not get another chance to have this. He finally had her in his hands. The one . . . she was the one.
Decision made, Raphael stepped back, the woman’s small body dropping to the floor. He stared down at her face as he towered over her. Fair skin smothered in makeup that covered its natural paleness. He saw her true skin through the tear marks that had flooded her face as he’d squeezed her perfect throat. Her eyes were crystal blue when they were open. Raphael became hard when he remembered the fear in their depths as he had begun to rid her of life. Eyes that tried to plead with him for mercy.