2. Raven
Iwant to climb Christian like a tree. Or whatever large object amounts to the size of those thighs because they’re thick and hard and oh-so-sexy, and they’ll be able to hold me steady.
I don’t know why betting that he’ll be inside me by the end of the night is loads better than the loud man beside us betting his date that they’ll be having sex by the end of the night, but it is. Maybe it’s the raspy, silky voice. Or maybe it’s the quiet, not-so-loud confidence that already speaks volumes.
Whatever it is, I’m hypnotized by him while standing in front of the dartboard, where he explains the rules in the same quiet, confident manner. Everything about this guy oozes confidence, along with a blatant masculinity that tells me he’s being truthful about his work. You don’t get that just from the gym.
But despite that masculinity, he doesn’t persist. He keeps a cozy distance between us, wanting me comfortable, too, and it reminds me of the gentlemanly qualities of the South, which I’m still getting used to.
“You got the rules?”
There’s his voice, too, with its rich drawl. My stomach jumps.
“Yeah. Are we really betting on sex?”
Green eyes flick to mine. I wasn’t lying about them being so attractive or suiting that dreamy, handsome face perfectly. I take in the rest of him again, from those thighs filling out his jeans perfectly to the plain black shirt that hugs broad shoulders and sleek, powerful muscles.
“That depends on you. We can just enjoy ourselves for now.”
I bet that I’ll be inside you by the end of the night.
My body flares with need, a reminder that I haven’t been with anyone in a while, and this man brings out a visceral reaction from me. My belly tightens as I nod, then take my first turn. The dart hits the board, but just the edge.
“Nice shot, Raven.”
He takes his position, aims, and hits the bull’s eye. My mouth drops open and my gaze narrows suspiciously.
“Let me guess. You’re a darts champion.”
“Maybe in my past life.” He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Are you backing out?”
“Hell, no. But maybe you can show me?”
The sinful way his eyes gleam sends another electric charge inside me before he stands behind me and guides my hand.
“Hold it like this. Run it through your fingers until you find the center of gravity. Now, lock your aim. Feet firmly on the ground and don’t lean back or forward. Steady…easy.”
His voice against my ear is low, husky, and delicious. One big hand settles on my hip, sending heat burning through me, while the other touches my wrist lightly.
“Now, shoot your shot, Raven.”
I bite my tongue at the way my name flows from his lips, then make a sound when the dart hits the center. Triumph blazes as I give him a victorious grin, which he reciprocates.
“Good job.”
“I might win, you know.”
Humor enters his features. “You can if you keep it up.”
I keep it up, but ultimately, he had the advantage since his first shot and I spend the rest of the game trying to catch up. I give him a good run for his money, but he wins it nonetheless, hitting the center or close to it more times than I do. My last shot, however, is another bull’s eye, and I raise my arms in the air and excitedly throw them around him.
Big mistake, I realize as his arms wrap around me, and his body presses firmly against mine. My heart lurches when his hand flexes against my waist, telling me I’m not the only one feeling it. Well, that and the bulge in his pants.
I bite back a moan. His breath brushes against my hair, soft and warm; his heartbeat is steady, strong, and just a little fast.
We stay in that position, frozen, before slowly pulling back. My pulse pounds wildly when I meet his gaze again and find it molten with heavy, thrilling desire. Even then, there’s so much control there, woven into the fabric of his being as he speaks in a light tone.
“Do you live close by?” he asks.
I swallow, gathering my wits.
“I’m staying in a motel. Do you want to go back and watch TV together?”
“No. I want you on a bed when I use my mouth on you.”
Oh my God. Goodbye, wits.
“You’re pretty arrogant, aren’t you?”
“That wasn’t a no.”
I hesitate. On the one hand, I want to keep my life private, and something tells me that if I do say no, he’ll respect my wishes. He seems the type.
On the other hand, where’s the fun in that? I haven’t had fun in a long time, and this is pretty harmless. My life’s been so shitty and there’s this looming knowledge that tomorrow, everything changes.
And, boy, do I need to blow off some steam. Badly. I don’t even remember what good sex feels like anymore, and I already know it’s going to be good with him.
I don’t answer him right away. Instead, I stand up on my tiptoes and watch as awareness enters his eyes. But he just watches me quietly, patiently. I tilt my head until my mouth is inches from his, his hot breath warming me up.
Then I close the distance between us, my mouth meeting his…and oh my God.
An electric jolt blazes through me at the first contact, then roars into madness as soon as he responds and kisses me back. It’s a slow, hot kiss; then hunger awakens and takes over, morphing it into something beyond our control.
His tongue slides between my lips, teases mine, and a low moan gets stuck in my throat. I do what I’ve wanted to do since first laying eyes on him and rub my body against his. The resulting friction tightens my nipples and sends a burning pleasure down my core. A groan rumbles in his throat as he deepens the kiss, then takes my ass in his hand to squeeze it and lift me up higher, lining me up with his erection.
Then, slowly, he sets me down and takes a step back until we’re no longer touching.
My breathing is erratic. So is his. My mind’s a muddled mess as I try to gather my wits again and realize they’re gone. Scattered in the wind.
His stomach heaves and a tortured chuckle comes out. Those molten green eyes bore into mine, the desire as feverish as I feel.
“Where are you staying, Raven?”
I swallow, my throat dry. “Motel. Next door,” is all I can manage.
He takes my hand and leads me out of the bar without another word. I don’t think I can speak, anyway. But I try.
“How long were you in the military?”
“Twelve years, give or take. You?”
“Eight years teaching.”
“Pizza or pasta?”
“Pizza. All day, every day.”
“My kind of woman.”
His voice is tight, anticipating. I’m pretty sure mine is, too, as I spot the building and point. “That’s mine. Room 18.”
He nods, then waits for me to find the keyhole with my trembling hand. We enter quickly.
“It’s small. Temporary. Probably not suitable for?—”
But he cuts me off with another kiss, his body trapping mine against the wall. I gasp at the suddenness, then moan when the kiss takes a turn into something beyond ravenous. His hand cruises under my shirt, then struggles with it, wanting to get it off but not wanting to stop kissing me.
“It’s suitable. I would have found a corner in that bar and fucked you there, but I wanted to take my time.”
Desire jolts at the thought of us going at it in the restroom or a small closet space, but the idea of going at it for hours on end is even better. Another moan escapes me when he finally removes my shirt. His hands make quick work of my bra, baring me to his hungry gaze.
“Beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”
Then his mouth closes over a nipple, and all thought ceases.
He licks, laves, and sucks, alternating between a series of motions that drive me crazy before he transfers his attention to my other breast. I place my hands on his shoulders, then tug on his hair when the sensations become too much and I need his mouth on mine again. He goes back to the wonderfully torrid kiss, sweeping me in a tide of pleasure.
“You sure know how to use your mouth.”
I feel his smirk before he pulls me off the wall and guides me to the bed, where he gives me a little shove and sends me back onto it. I rest my weight on my elbows and watch with rapt attention as he takes off his shirt and unbuttons his pants; my hormones rage in impatience. The man is perfection, and I feel like I’ve been plopped into a steamy dream.
But this? It’s real. This man’s a fantasy come to life, one I’m eager to partake in.
When he climbs over me, I can’t help it. I sit up and touch his chest, then run my hands over his muscles before my mouth follows suit to kiss every glistening inch. His muscles tremble, and the strangled groan in his throat has me smiling against his chest.
Then I let out a squeak when, in the blink of an eye, I’m flat on my back again and he’s hovering over me.
“I wasn’t done using my mouth on you yet.”
It’s a dark, luscious promise. I assume he’ll go straight for my breasts again, and he does, but only for a short amount of time before his mouth cruises down to my stomach. He tugs my skirt down and follows the trail with his mouth, his hot breath on my thigh.
“Christian?”
In response, his thumb rubs over my panties, already wet and getting wetter. Then he takes them off, too, until I’m exposed to his gaze and quivering from the tension.
“Christian…”
“Keep saying my name. I like it. I like this, too.”
Holding my gaze with that deep green, he licks, and I almost fly off the mattress. Then he licks again and dives in, and I lose my mind to the pleasure of his soft but firm tongue eating me up so eagerly. My body becomes a slave to his ministrations, blown away by the display of skill and intense, crazed hunger.
All the while, his low drawl never stops.
“You’re so wet, baby. So tight,” he whispers as he slips two fingers inside me.
“Oh, God.” I clench around him.
“That’s a good girl. That’s so good. Open up for me, sweetheart.”
“Christian…”
“Beautiful. So beautiful. Let go, Raven.”
But it’s the last one, with his fingers and tongue working in sync, that sends me catapulting into a mindless, explosive orgasm. He keeps working me through my climax, and I cling to him, his shoulders, his hair, as I shoot into bliss, not loosening my grip until I come down from my high.
As I lie there, breathless, his mouth finds mine and kisses me, consuming, driving me back into desire before I can stop myself. Restless, I move my hands everywhere until they find his pants and underwear and help him kick them off?—
I suck in a breath. His cock is as magnificent as the rest of his body, so thick and large that I can barely wrap my hand around it.
It’s getting harder by the second as I stroke it, and he grits his teeth when I give a particularly firm stroke.
“Fuck. Baby, that’s so good.”
My mouth waters at his groan, then the twitching in my hand. Wanting more, I push him on his back this time and crawl down until my head is level with his hardness. His brows furrow and his voice holds a rough edge.
“I know how to use my mouth, too,” I say before my lips wrap around his tip, where pre-cum is already leaking.
He lets out another groan, hips jolting, and his hands fist on the sheets. I lick, lave, and suck, mirroring the things he did to my nipples until he’s gripping my hair. I gasp when I realize he’s guiding my movements, a primal command that makes me even more keen to please him.
His muscles strain when I take him deep in my throat, and he lets out the ripest curse when I suck even harder. Then his cock is no longer there and I’m on my back again before I can react. I reach for him, but he takes my hand, lifts it, and traps it under his.
“You didn’t like it?”
“If I let you keep doing that, this will be over too quickly. The bet was that I’d be inside you, right?”
My breath catches in my throat, but I manage an impish smile. “Was it?”
“Yeah. And I keep my promises, Raven.”
It’s a promise but feels like a warning. It ignites a desperation between us.
“Condom?”
Lust glints before he grabs the pants we discarded and pulls one out of the pocket. I snatch it from his hand, tear it open, and watch his hooded gaze go dark when I roll the rubber over his hardness. I give it one more good stroke until he growls against my ear.
“You’re paying for that, sweetheart.”
I shudder at his words. Or maybe it’s his tip now rubbing against my entrance. But it no longer matters as he pushes in, one pulsating inch after another, until he’s deep inside me.
He groans, whispering how tight I am. I moan, breathless from being so full. I don’t know which one of us moves first, but when it happens, all bets are off and I’m sinking further into a pleasure unlike any I’ve ever experienced before.
I bask in it, then lose myself to more kisses that intensify the pleasure. They’re hard, possessive kisses, but there’s so much tenderness in them, too, as if he’s as invested in my pleasure as much as his. I gasp when he drives deeper and harder, angling until I feel it deep in my bones.
I’ve had sex before. I’ve been fucked hard before, too, and eaten out, but there’s something about this man’s sheer power and primal grit that just does it for me. For however much he was a gentleman in the bar, it’s trumped by the raw, uninhibited passion that drives him to work me like I’m his most important mission.
But it’s not just a mission. It’s a connection, swirling between us until we’re shrouded in its cloud. I can feel how tighter and tighter it’s getting and I’m ready for that next explosion, but again, Christian takes me by surprise when he rolls us around until he’s on his back and I’m…
“Ride me.” His quiet rasp hums in the air. “Grind against me.”
I blink, then realize he’s using my words from earlier. I watch his impatience create a frayed hold on his control, slipping more by the second. But he holds on, wanting me to do my thing.
And that’s the sexiest thing a man can give a woman.
Wordlessly, I plant my hands on his stomach, then grind my core against his cock until I can feel the pleasure build again. I rock and bounce until I brush that very sensitive point against his hardness. I cry out and bear down, grinding, already racing to the finish, but the cry sharpens when he sits up, sucks on my nipple, and grinds back against me.
“Please.”
I sob it out. That’s all it takes for his control to snap and for Christian to arch his hips up repeatedly, hitting his cock right where I need it the most.
It’s wonderful. It’s crazy, and all I can hear in my head is a series of oh my Gods, holy shits, and—and?—
My next orgasm is more explosive than my last, shattering me completely. A few more thrusts and Christian shudders, too, holding on to me tightly and kissing me over and over as he spills into me. Then he rolls us back around until we’re lying together, a cuddle that keeps me safe and warm as we fall together into our bliss.
It’s like my bones have melted. He caresses my hip and lazily kisses my shoulder, but I can’t even lift my head.
“How was it?”
I scan my mind for something profound but can only manage one word. “Wow.”
Christian chuckles. “Hunger-inducing, right?”
“Hmm.”
“We can probably get pizza later.”
Which means there’ll be a repeat. I grin. “I’d like that.”
But my eyes are closing out of my accord and he tucks me in tighter against him. “Get some sleep first. Get…”
I don’t hear the rest of his words as I’m zonked out before I know it. It’s a dreamless sleep, the kind I haven’t had in a while, and appreciate even more because of it. I wake up and find myself facing the wall clock, where it says that I’ve slept for around an hour.
Remembering what transpired in this room, I smile and turn, expecting to find a body. I frown and look around, expecting to find a note or a sign…anything to signal that he was here. But there’s no note, no message, no sign, leaving my body riddled with a cold feeling.
Because the man who promised me pizza is gone.