Tensura Raphael Novels & Stories

outside of room a man in his early 20 s standing with a hand in his chest and head down. He stopped and looked at his right hand man ...the man said "Lord ..the information of this girl's death already went to human council...I did what you instructed..we have to wait for their reply " ....he smirked and said "Raphael Ralph don't care about the reply of another side ...when someone will break the rule...he or she should die...this is the rule of my world" ...the man nodded in agreement ...he looked at his assistant and said "Clean up the body...give this to my loving Python girl...prepare my dress...I have to attend a function..." ....The man nodded and went inside the room... He was none o

My body tensed up, a shiver running down my spine as I realized what was coming next. 'Breathe,' Raphael ordered, his voice deep and commanding, like he was used to giving instructions that no one dared ignore. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and hungry, holding me in place more than the chains ever could. I tried to obey, sucking in a shaky breath, but my heart was pounding so hard it made my vision blur a little.

Her fingers touched the floor of the marble-laid bathtub and turned her head to the left only to get her gaze locked with Raphael. She ended up looking at his lower half in that event, but was surprised to find out he had put on a black satin loose trousers. “Where is your gaze?” Raphael queried and she promptly gazed at him. “Nowhere,” Winter said, the soap was still not in her grip. She sucked in her breath when Raphael moved closer to her. Winter felt herself glued at the same place and her heartbeats raised to see their closeness. Their fingers touched and he finally handed the soap to her.

And the color of my skin never hides when I blush so it's always hard. "What's your name?" Now he stood right beside me leaning on the basin and looking down at me. Okay, how the hell was he this tall? I looked like a minor in front of him. This was so unfair. And not to forget his deep baritone voice. It was so smooth just like butter. Ew Arabella really? "Arabella" I replied. He hummed before folding his hands and damn I almost swooned. I accidentally glanced at the tattoo on the back of his left shoulder. It had wings and it between were two initials.

Jes gulped when she saw the burning intensity in Raphael's eyes. She felt like a deer trapped in a lion's cage. "Sneaking food in the theaters, faking a pregnancy, partying in the club, approaching strangers for one night stand, you have got quite hobbies besides running away from me Miss Emily." Raphael said in his husky voice while crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes shining with amusement. It looked like he was trying very hard not to burst into a fit of laughter.

He nodded, pushed the air out. "Do you still need pain?" He nodded again. His eyes clenched closed. "Look at me and tell me what kind." Raphael lowered his head, looked me right in the eye. "I need sharp. Hard." "Knife?" He nodded. "Yes, please." I shook my arm, allowed a blade to fall into my palm. "Close your eyes." His lids fell shut on a sigh. His shoulders relaxed. His body lost its vibrating tension. And I hadn't even touched him with the blade yet.

He chuckles at my feeble attempt, only stepping back with a malicious grin. Raphael isn’t as tall as Marco, but he is still a decent height for a male. And he didn’t get classed as a bully for no reason. Although muscular, there is no smooth elegance or refinement to his physic. Raphael is a rough piece of work, as if he has been carved with a blunt knife. Curated with jagged edges, a shaggy unkempt beard and buzz cut. He is like a rusty machete, worn, weathered, and ragged, but still dangerous enough to cut you and give you a nasty infection. “Stop! Stop this nonsense!” I yell, decently fearful, as I feel a close friendship with Mr. Barlow. Even with his annoying old man tendencies. I don’t

And finally, Serena could see. She blinked and blinked again, but the vision in front of her never wavered. And oh, what a vision. There Raphael stood, a realization of godlike perfection, naked but for his low-riding jeans. Serena’s eyes skimmed over his abdomen, chest, and arms, his beauty reminding her of Olympian Gods with their bodies sculpted in marble. The way his hair played about his rugged jaw and shoulders made her yearn to feel it brush against her own skin. Just thinking about it produced tingling sensations from the tips of her fingers to the pit of her stomach.

Rhett called out. My heart dropped when the name slipped out his tongue. My legs immediately turned into jelly when I saw him entering the room. I pressed my lips together trying my best to control myself. Raphaël's hair is damp and messy as it kisses his forehead. My pulse quickens when I notice his not fully dressed-his only covered in a towel and it hangs dangerously low exposing his v-line. My eyes roamed his body taking in his muscular toned biceps, his left arm is fully inked and he has a huge scar across his chest.