Page 45 of Raven

He leans over, his shirt brushing my front, his hair brushing my temple. “Nervous?” he whispers in my ear.

“Yes.” I don’t lie. Not this time. It’s useless with him.

“You are hiding it well.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

“You are,” he whispers, his hand gliding down and brushing against my nipple, “perfect, Maddy.”

He switches back and forth from Maddy to Milena, and it makes for a bizarre reminder that though he is blackmailing me, I am the one who lied for two years and lied to so many people, jeopardizing the safety of this island.

He might not fully understand it, but our moral compasses are in sync. I let him do what he wants as a price for his silence. He is taking it despite the high price he might have to pay later.

We are the same.

Raven starts taking slow steps around me. His hand briefly brushes against my butt, making my core contract in response. I feel want seep out of me. I expected him to be fast and maybe rough. But Raven is a seducer. Who would’ve known?

He makes a full circle around me and stops in front of me. Our eyes lock. The air burns between us.

His hand caresses my hip. The other shifts between my legs and lightly brushes against my clit.

I hold my breath at the contact.

His fingers gently probe between my legs again, and a tiny, surprised hum escapes him.

“Who do you clean up so nicely for, Maddy?”

I had Brazilian wax done. I used to be meticulous about self-care before Zion. The Eastside got a bit complicated. Now, Ayana has every luxury you can look for.

“No one,” I lie. I only just got it done for the first time a week ago. With him in mind.

“No one,” he echoes in a half-whisper, his fingers softly stroking my clit, making my body burn with need for more pressure. “You wear simple clothes, barely any makeup, but you are waxed down there.”

His eyes are smiling, his brow ticks as his fingers gently stroke me between my legs.

“Rich girls who become poor like to keep certain habits,” I answer.

He studies my face, trying to figure out if I’m lying. His fingers still play with my pussy, making it hard for me to focus on the right words. His touch down there is feather-light, grazing my clit, and I want it harder, consistent, rhythmic.

A smile flickers on his lips. “I like this habit.”

He likes teasing. I can feel myself seeping, the moisture gathering between my legs, coating his fingers that easily slide around my clit in circular motions.

“You are soaked, Maddy baby,” he whispers against my cheek, and his fingers between my legs start exploring, sliding farther, deeper, applying more pressure, making me shift and widen my stance.

He's not handling me like a possession, though I thought that was what he wanted when we made the deal. He is learning my body’s reaction to him. This is so arousing that I'm wet down to my knees by the time he starts rubbing my clit in circles, applying even more pressure, and my body starts screaming for release.

He pulls back just a little bit. His gaze latches onto me as he watches for my reaction.

I could’ve pretended this doesn’t affect me. But if he wants me to play, then so be it. So, I shift my hips, pushing into his fingers.

Triumph flickers in his eyes, and the pressure of his fingers increases.

He shifts an inch closer. His hand slides to the small of my back, as if supporting me. His other hand is doing sensual magic. He leans in to whisper in my ear, “I want you to enjoy this just as much as I do.”

And this time, he doesn’t pull back. His lips kiss my ear, then plant little kisses along my temple, and all the while his fingers rub my clit in the most delicious way.

I let myself close my eyes. I let my hands move up and gently rest on his upper arms for support. My knees grow weak from pleasure. My hips start rolling in sync with the rhythm of his fingers. And in a moment, I’m falling, the orgasm surging through my body as I try to hold back my reaction and only allowing a loud gasp to escape my mouth as I lean into him.

---