Page 165 of Under an Endless Moon

She sat up as I approached, as if she was compelled, drawn to me the same way as I was drawn to her.

All that black hair rained around her, brushing her delicate shoulders and rolling down to caress her breasts. The pebbled tips of her pert nipples peeked out between the lush locks.

My mouth fuckin’ watered.

My attention wandered, gliding down over the scars that marred her abdomen. The cruel intentions meant to be evidence of a sadist’s schemes. To whittle her down to surrender.

My gaze skated to the deeper scar on her lower left side, the one that was covered by the words that rolled up her ribs.

I will make it to the sunrise.

Fury glinted at the edges of my mind. In the darkest recesses where the demons howled and played, my own scars carved inside of me ragged and weeping and still begging for retribution.

But Raven’s scars?

They only shouted of her resilience.

Of her bravery.

Of the goodness that radiated from her spirit.

“Arms up,” I told her, and there was the tiniest grin playing at the edge of that sexpot mouth when she obeyed. I slid the shirt over her head. It was enormous on her, swallowing her tight, enticing frame, coming all the way down to her knees.

I scooped her up without warning. She squealed in surprise, and she threw those arms around my neck at the same time as she wrapped those long legs around my waist.

“What are you doing, Otto Hudson?”

“Told you I needed to feed you.”

She edged back, arching a brow, her face so goddamn striking in the wisping light. “I think you forgot something important.”

“What’s that?” I asked as I started to carry her from the bedroom.

Her brow arched higher. “My panties.”

“You aren’t gonna need those.”

Swore, it was glee that sprinted through her being, lighting assparks in those dark, dark eyes. Excitement and greed and her own wicked, wicked things.

Fuck me. She really was meant for me.

“Is that so?” she challenged, playing along.

“That’s right,” I told her as I ambled down into the main part of the house. I strode right into the kitchen and perched her on the edge of the island.

“Want that sweetness ripe and ready for me.”

A shiver rocked her, and she gripped the counter, wiggling in the spot. She looked like a temptress there, a siren sitting beneath the hazy rays of light that danced in through the windows that overlooked the lake beyond.

View might have been magnificent, but it didn’t hold a candle to her.

I strode to the refrigerator, whipping open the door and riffling around inside to find something to sustain us. There wasn’t much that wasn’t going to require effort, but there was half a cake that Raven had picked up at the restaurant across from Moonflower a few days ago.

My favorite fuckin’ cake from my favorite fuckin’ girl.

It was exactly what we needed.

Chocolate and carbs.

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