Page 162 of Under an Endless Moon

Swore that I soared and flew.

A darkened sky all around where I floated in the paradise that was Otto Hudson.

He thrust two more times before a shout burst from him, and he clutched me so tight there was nothing to separate us as he jerked and spasmed and groaned my name. “Raven.”

He grunted as he poured into me. I could feel every twitch and pulse of his cock, and my pleasure fluttered around it, capturing him the same way as he’d captured me.

He held us there for the longest time.

In this rapture that could only belong to us.

We both knew it then. Knew it in the way our gazes were locked as we let go.

As we gave ourselves over.

As every wall and brick that had been built around us was toppled to the ground.

Completely demolished.

It wasus.

Forever.

And there was no turning back.

Aftershocks twitched through our muscles, and harsh pants heaved from his lungs as I struggled to drag oxygen back into mine.

As I struggled to catch up to this.

Otto had had me.

Had taken me.

Fully and completely.

I nearly wept when he pulled out, though he had me in his arms and was rolling us onto our sides and curling me tight against the heated flesh of his body before I could get out any sound of displeasure.

And through the lapping shadows that filled the room, those eyes were on me.

Searching my face as if they could get all the way down into my soul.

He let his fingertips trace the edge of my jaw. My lips. Before they were brushing along my brow. “You good?”

I snuggled into him, resting my cheek on his biceps as I let my own fingertips play along the intricate designs he’d tattooed there. “I knew there would be nothing like you, but I wasn’t prepared for how good it was going to be.”

Cockiness laced his words. “Good to hear, darlin’, because you’re about to have a whole lot more of me.” Then his lips were at my temple, his words seeping deep into my spirit. “You’re mine now, and I have every intention of making good on it.”

FORTY-FOUR

RAVEN

Otto droppedthe peck of a kiss to my lips before he ordered, “Don’t move,” in that rumbly, powerful voice.

“I don’t think I could move from this bed if the house was on fire.”

I was nothing but a puddle of mush.

Languid bones and sated muscles.

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