Page 6 of Isolation
Raven’s fingers settle in my hair, and my relief is instant. It’s still there—that connection.
The moment Raven sets off, I fumble with my own zipper. I swap out my tongue on her clit with my fingers and then swap the fingers with the head of my cock. I don’t want to give her a moment to think. Rubbing my dick on her sensitive spot, I extend her orgasm.
I take my time to enter her. Years of wanting this, hoping for this. I want to savor every second. Shock registers the moment I am inside her. I am shaking from trying to control myself.
The perfect bliss. A moment of true happiness.
I am a panting and growling mess, but I resist the urge to thrust until we are both under the same unbearable intensity. Slowly, I find a rhythm, taking my time to savor her. She is in my veins. Under my skin. My every thought. I am consumed by her. Utterly and in every way.
I could do this forever, but Raven’s orgasm has subsided, and so has her lust. She is a blank slate again. Expressionless. Icy. Freezing me out.
I feel a familiar antagonization at her rejection. I can’t deal with her numbness. I have given her everything that was ever good inside of me, and all she has done is put up barriers.
I kiss her all over, just the way she likes. Dropping my head to suck on her neck, I twirl my tongue around a sensitive spot of hers. Nothing.
I bet I know something that will get her attention. I pull Raven’s dress down, so it bunches around her midsection. Grabbing onto one of the cups of her bra, I yank it to the side.
My tongue swipes over her breasts, licking her nipple. I take it between my teeth, slightly clamping down. Raven hates this. I don’t plan to be rougher if only she gives me a reaction.
But Raven is staring at the ceiling. Completely frozen. Desensitized. Paralyzed.
I inwardly shake my head at myself. Losing control over my anger is not going to work in my favor. It’s what got me into this mess.
Changing course, I lick her warm skin. I could never get enough of the taste of vanilla. Starting at her breast, I lick my way to her neck and suck.
Raven relaxes enough to moan, and soon her moans match my panting. I am trying to control myself, but I have no dominance over her. Her body rules every part of me.
I lose control right when Raven arches her back. “That’s it, baby! Come with me.”
I pound into her till I find my own release and collapse on top of her. Stroking her hair, I whisper in her ears, but Raven keeps ignoring me. Although she is angry with me, she is angrier at herself. She hates that she never be able to break our physical bond.
“I missed you so damn much,” I murmur in her hair.
“And that justifies your reasons to force yourself on me?” she haughtily retorts.
“Raven, I didn’t exactly force you. I let go of your hands while I was going down on you. You could have pushed me off. Instead, you grabbed onto my hair.”
Raven turns to face me as if she can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. “Forcing me to climax does not change what this is,” she says through clenched teeth.
“No, but the fact that you did climax changes how you feel about this.”
“If you believe that, then why force me? To prove your dominance as the male species?”
“That wasn’t dominance,” I respond flatly. “That was insurance. You will never be able to break this pull between us. I needed you to know that before you did something stupid.”
Yes. I am her worst nightmare, but despite my depravities, this is about connecting with her, not about burying myself in her. I need her physical reaction to continue. Insignificant as it may be, she does have some control. Does she know that? Does it even make a difference to her?
Raven is wearing a blank look as if she has checked out. That look indicates she has slipped into her own world, her thoughts where no one else can reach her. She is also slightly shaking, possibly from anger. I am sure she is already formulating a plan to get away from me.
Not going to happen. I try to distract her with banter, but it’s futile.
Finally, she jerks free from my hold. I let her, only because it’s time. I have received the long-awaited text from Mia. A text that’s supposed to lead to an end to justify the awful means.
As I put on a pair of gym shorts, I watch Raven wrap herself in a bedsheet and fumble around for her clothes. She is always so put together that it’s cute when she is flustered. But my amusement only serves to irritate her. She haughtily turns on her heels towards the door.
Holding on to the doorknob, Raven pulls the door open with full force. I stand as well, knowing full well what lies on the other side of that door—no time like the present to finally rip off this Band-Aid. We are going to face the music. Together.
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