Page 65 of Ravens
His hands slide up my hips to my waist, which he squeezes and tugs down on sharply. I gasp as the slack on the rope disappears.
“Stop showing them how much they get to you.” He presses against my entrance, and my head falls back. “You aren’t a Raven anymore.”
“Mm hmm,” is all I manage, squeezing my eyes closed.
The way he enters me is so slow, and I’m aching for the man that gets pushy and rough. I want him to pull my hair and bite me, something to ease the tension he’s winding so tightly that I could shake with it.
Halfway in, he thrusts hard, and I cry out in surprise and pleasure. Then it goes back to a slow, torturous grind that falls just shy of the mark that I’m desperate for him to hit and crush with everything he has.
My hands fist the rope between my wrists, and a little sound of frustration escapes when I can’t roll my hips with my legs tied down.
“Impatient.” He leans down and kisses me. “Bad girls get tortured, Theresa.”
“Fuck,” I breathe out.
His lips tug at my nipple, and the hum on my lips turns to a moan. “Are you already desperate to finish?”
“No.” My voice gets pitchy. “I want you to ruin me.”
“For a day?” He licks my nipple hard, and I arch into his mouth. “Or forever?”
It shouldn’t feel that good. A tongue on a nipple shouldn’t be that powerful, and I wish I could answer him, but I can’t, so I shake my head in refusal. The nipple pops from his lips, and he leansback.
“I’m inclined to ruin you forever, Theresa . . . make it impossible for anyone else to stack up, impossible for you to be satisfied without me.” His hand slides down my stomach. “Because even if you never love me, I want the way I make you feel to haunt you.”
The palms of his hand presses low on my stomach, and I jolt against the restraints with a groan. The pressure increases against his slow, steady thrusts, and my breath catches as the orgasm swells.
“Oh my god,” I choke out as it intensifies.
The swell peaks, and I sweat as a bolt of pleasure releases. My back arches gently as a warm gush accompanies my body racking with intense, pulsing waves. Gasping, I pull on the rope until the force of the orgasm rips a moan from my lungs that echoes around the room.
“Very nice,” he growls. “That’s it.”
He reaches overhead as the pleasure fades and detaches the rope from the bed with a jerk of his hand. My arms drop as I pant, and I fit my bound hands over his head, pulling him down and kissing him with a sense of urgency. He pulls me into his lap and reaches back, freeing my feet with another flick of his hand, before wrapping his arms around me. The tightness of his embrace calms the anxious energy surging through me, and the sway of my hips calms as I’m eased back into a gentler momentum.
“You’ve already ruined me,” I whisper against his lips, and feel his eyes on me, even in the dark. “You haunt me already, too.”
“I’d rather not be a ghost in your past, though.” He pulls my hips down into him. “I need you to hear me.”
I do hear him.
But it doesn’t change anything.
I lift my arms off his shoulders and gently push him down to the flat of his back, tilting myself until my movement is driving him into the spot that makes my skin tingle and my mouth water. He grabs the footboard over his head, anchoring us as I rock against him with my tied hands holding me upright on his chest.
This is as intense as everything else but different. The passion is different, the desire heavier, and it all feels as loaded as the gun sitting a few feet away. I ride him slowly, deliberately until my body is shuddering every time I slide him back into me.
“Hands,” I gasp out.
Even in the dark he’s able to release the knot between my wrists easily, and I shake the rope off before lying on his chest and kissing him deeply. He rolls, leaving half my body hanging over the side of the bed, but it doesn’t matter because I’m clinging to him, wrapped around him as his slow thrusts go deeper.
“Yes,” I pant out as a release starts to build. “I’m going to come again.”
My head drops back off the bed, and he kisses my throat as my body ramps up and my hips lift to meet each of his deepening thrusts.
“Fuck,” he groans. “I’m going to top you up.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper into the dark as my body tightens around him.
