Chapter 29 #4
The air between us shifts.
Not gradually. Not gently. All at once.
Joker’s hand tightens slightly at the back of my neck, his thumb still resting over my pulse like he’s tracking every beat, every spike, every reaction I can’t hide. “You keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “and I’m gonna stop being gentle.”
My breath catches. “Gentle?” I whisper.
His mouth curves, but there’s nothing soft in it now.
“I want you Raven,” he says quietly. “Hard, fast, and rough. I don’t wanna scare you so I’ve been holding back.”
The words send a slow, dangerous heat through me.
Not fear. Not panic. Something deeper. Something that feels like stepping right up to the edge of a cliff and realizing I want to jump.
I should hesitate. I should think. I should remember every reason this is complicated, every reason this is risky, every reason I’ve spent so long trying to stay careful.
Instead, I hear myself say, “Then don’t.”
The shift in him is immediate. His eyes darken, jaw tightening just enough to show he’s holding something back, and not by much.
“Angel,” he warns, voice dropping lower, “you sure you wanna push me right now?”
Yes.
God, yes.
And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s the most dangerous part of all of this, that I don’t feel scared of him.
I feel safe enough to want this. To want him. To lean into the intensity instead of running from it.
I take a slow step back, letting his hand fall away from my neck.
His gaze tracks me instantly. Every inch. Every movement.
The room feels smaller suddenly. Tighter. Charged.
“Sit,” I say softly.
That gets his attention.
Not because of the word. Because of the way I say it. Because I don’t sound unsure. Because I don’t sound afraid.
Joker’s brows pull together just slightly, something sharp and curious flickering behind his eyes. “You giving me orders now?”
There’s a warning in it. But there’s something else too.
Interest. Challenge.
I hold his gaze. “Just trust me.”
That does it.
Something in his expression shifts, tightens, focuses, and after one long second, he moves. Slowly. Deliberately.
He sits on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, eyes never leaving me. Waiting. Watching. Every inch of his attention locked on me in a way that makes my pulse spike hard enough I can feel it in my fingertips.
My heart is racing. My hands are just barely steady. But I don’t stop.
I cross the room, flipping on a low song from my phone, something soft and slow with a steady beat that fills the quiet space between us.
The music wraps around us. Changes the air. Gives this moment something to move to. Something to breathe through.
Joker leans back slightly, one hand braced behind him on the bed, the other resting on his thigh, eyes dark and intent. “Raven…”
My name on his mouth sounds like a warning now. Or maybe a plea. I’m not sure which.
Maybe both.
I don’t answer. I just move. Slowly. Letting the rhythm take over. Letting the nerves burn off into something smoother, something more controlled, something that feels less like fear and more like choice.
Every step closer to him feels intentional. Every shift of my hips, every movement of my hands, every breath I take feels like I’m crossing a line I can’t uncross. And I don’t want to. Not even a little.
His gaze drags over me, heavy and consuming, following every movement like he’s memorizing it. Like he’s trying to hold onto it. Like it matters. That look alone is enough to make my skin heat.
To make something low in my stomach tighten. To make me forget, just for a second, everything that came before this moment.
I reach for the hem of my shirt, hesitating for half a breath before pulling it over my head.
Joker exhales slowly. Not loud. Not dramatic.
But I hear it. Feel it.
The shift in him. The restraint. The way his fingers flex once against the bed like he’s holding himself still by force. “Careful,” he murmurs.
There’s no real warning left in it now. Just heat. Just want. Just that same dangerous certainty that’s been building between us since the moment we met.
I don’t stop. I let the moment stretch.
Let the space between us tighten. Let him watch. Let myself be seen. Because for once, being seen doesn’t feel like a threat.
It feels like power. It feels like choosing.
By the time the last barrier between us disappears, the room is silent except for the music and the sound of both of us breathing a little too hard.
Joker’s gaze is locked on me. Unblinking. Intense enough to make my knees feel weak and my chest feel too full. “Come here,” he says quietly.
Not loud. Not demanding. But there’s no question in it. No hesitation. No room for refusal.
And the terrifying thing is, I don’t want to refuse.
I step into him.
And the second I’m within reach, his hands are on me again, pulling me in, grounding me, claiming the space between us in a way that feels nothing like control and everything like certainty.
Like I chose this. Like he knows I did. Like he’s not letting me go.
The world outside that room fades completely. The clubhouse. The noise. The past.
All of it disappears.
Until there is only this—
Heat. Breath. Hands. And the undeniable, impossible truth settling deep in my chest:
I am already his. And I don’t think I ever want to be anything else.
Joker turns us so I'm laying beneath him. “Sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He moves toward the end table but I grab his wrist.
“I have an IUD, I don’t want any barriers between us.” My hands move up his arm to his neck pulling his mouth toward mine. “I want to feel every inch of you, Travis.”
“Fuck.” It’s all he says before his mouth assaults mine. Stealing the very breath from me that I'd happily give him. “It gets too much, or you want me to stop you say the word.” His eyes look into mine waiting for acknowledgment.
I nod. “Make me yours.”
His mouth curves into a smile, “my fucking pleasure.”
His hands grip my hips flipping me over so i’m on all fours, one trails my spine pushing my face forward. His other hand rubs my ass, “you’re like a fucking dream baby. I bet you’re soaked too aren’t you?”
I don’t answer my brain has officially stopped working.
His palm comes down on my ass and I inhale sharply. It doesn't hurt, the sting is there, but it’s laced with heat and wanting.
“Answer me angel, you wet and ready for me?”
“Yes,” I groan, because I am.
His hand slowly drags through my center while his other fists into my mass of hair.
Before I can even think he plunges into me, filling me in the best way possible.
The hand in my hair pulls me until I’m raised up on my knees.
“I’m gonna fuck you just like this baby,” his voice whispers in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder. “You want that?”
“Please, I need…” My body is so overwhelmed with him that I can't even string together a sentence.
“I know what you need.” he starts to pump in and out of me and in this position it’s amazing.
His pace starts to slow and i try to move again him, wanting more. “My old lady is greedy,” he laughs. “Play with that beautiful pussy while I fuck you baby.”
My hands lower almost immediately. I'm pretty sure I'd do just about anything he says right now. I touch myself immediately ready to fall over the cliff and into one of the most intense orgasms I've ever had.
He pumps into me wildly and then his teeth sink into the crook of my neck and I scream his name. His hands grip my hips as he finds his release and then we collapse onto the bed together.
For a long time, I just lie there trying to catch my breath, boneless and warm and still half convinced I’m floating somewhere outside my own body.