22. Sawyer
SAWYER
Once all of her houseguests are gone, she shuts the door, pressing her head to the wood as she releases a deep breath.
My palms smack the door on either side of her head, and she flinches at the sudden noise.
“Sorry, don’t know my own strength sometimes,” I say, pressing my erection into her ass as I cage her in.
“How long have you been hard?”
“Since I came downstairs and you smiled at me.”
“That was a while ago.”
“I know. It’s a problem I’d love your help with.”
She turns underneath me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Can you do something for me?”
“Anything. Right now I would chase you through the woods in a mask and fuck you against a tree if you asked me to. Or I would carry you up those stairs and make sweet tender love to you. I’ll be anything you need me to be. You only have to ask.”
“How do you know about masked men and primal kink? That’s not in any of my books.”
“I may have picked up a few more books.” Her mouth opens and closes like my words have stunned her, and the prettiest blush pinkens her cheeks. “They weren’t as good as yours, but I learned some things.”
She shakes her head, finding her composure. “I want to manage expectations here. I’m never going to play into misogynistic bullshit and fake an orgasm so you feel better about your lack of skills.”
“I would expect nothing less from you.” I lean down and grab a handful of her ass, encouraging her to jump into my arms. When she complies, wrapping her legs around me in a vise grip, I squeeze her cheeks hard and head for the stairs.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I won’t be vocal for your comfort. You may have made me come with your mouth, but your dick is a whole other story.”
“Oh, you’re gonna be vocal.” I smile against her as she rests her head on my shoulders while I climb the stairs and move quickly toward her room.
“Love the confidence. Keep telling yourself that.”
I stop at the edge of her bed. “Technically my dick has already made you come repeatedly.”
“At my skilled hand. Yes, the shape and texture are nice, but I’m the one thrusting it, grinding on it. I’m the one doing the actual fucking. Your dick was just the tool.”
I know she’s fucking with me. Teasing me because she knows it turns me on, and I drop her onto the bed. “Raven, you can use my dick to get yourself off anytime you like.”
She leans back on her arms as her eyes rake up and down my body. “Lose the clothes.”
“Yes, madame,” I say, as I kick off my shoes with the grace of a baby elephant, nearly falling as I tug on my sock.
“On second thought, sit down. I don’t need you breaking a hip.” She climbs off the bed.
“Fuck off.” I grin as I sit on the edge, and she kneels to remove my socks. Her hands skate across my thighs, reaching up to undo my pants. I lift so she can slide them down, along with my boxers. Once they’re off, she tosses them on the floor and stands over me.
I reach behind my neck, tugging my long-sleeve shirt off in one fluid motion, and her eyes snag on the large bandage covering my arm. In all of our activities the night before, I never took my shirt off. Fuck, maybe I am Pooh Bear.
She reaches for it. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing. I—” Her hands tremble as she removes the gauze covering my bicep.
“You got a tattoo?”
“Yeah.” She blinks down at me as I decide how honest to be with her. Even though I’ve already told her how serious I am about making a life with her, the ink on my skin is a permanent declaration.
Her fingers trace the edges of the ink with so much reverence that the words come pouring out.
“It’s still healing, but he said the scabbing is normal.”
“I need you to give me more than that. What are they for?”
“I think you know.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
“This one is a flame like the one Jonah and I drew. There’s a butterfly.
I took a picture after McKenna doodled it on me and asked him to make it identical.
And I had Jane and Tommy draw designs too.
Jane went with a heart, so that’s in her handwriting.
And of course, the turtle is from Tommy.
In his drawing, the turtle’s head looked like a dick, so I asked the artist to make it less phallic, but it’s pretty close to what he drew. ”
“And the wing?”
“It’s a raven’s wing.”
“Sawyer. This is—”
“My entire world in one tattoo.”
Her breath catches as her lip trembles. “Are you going to shade it in?”
“Nope. That’s why I got it. I saw the way it calmed Jonah down. I figured I’d leave it like this so he could color it whenever he got upset.”
“Sawyer. I—” Her voice catches as she tries to compose herself. “I don’t know what to say. This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen, better than anything I could’ve written.”
“You don’t think it was impulsive? You’re not going to yell at me about how it’s permanent, and we should’ve talked about it first?”
“No. You’re an adult and fully capable of making your own decisions. I’m honored that you’d want a permanent reminder of me and my kids on your skin.”
She bends down to kiss me. The press of her body against me is desperate and devastating, like she can’t get close enough to satisfy the need coursing through her. And I’m right there with her, pawing at every scrap of clothing she’s wearing as I try to remove it without breaking the kiss.
Once she’s fully naked, she climbs onto my lap, pushing me onto my back as she attacks my mouth with hers.
I wrap my arms around her and roll her onto her back as she slowly inches up on the bed.
Waiting till she’s comfortable, I hover over her, just out of reach as I search her eyes for permission to continue.
She grabs my face and pulls me against her, and I lean down, concentrating my weight on one arm as I kiss her.
There’s a savageness to her kisses that awakens the animal inside me, and I want to pin her to this bed and fuck all the tension out of her body until she’s pliant and sated.
“Why are you hovering?” she pants, chest heaving as she breaks the kiss.
“What?”
“You’re leaning on your forearm.”
“I’m a big guy. I don’t want to crush you.”
“You silly, silly man. I sleep with a weighted blanket for a reason. I want your full weight on me.”
“Are you sure?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a skinny little thing either. I’m tall, and I’m thick. The meat on my bones serves a purpose when I have to keep my kid safe during meltdowns. And the meat on your bones is really appealing to me.”
“Are you saying you want to devour me?”
“Not literally. But I would happily explore my favorite parts of you.”
I can’t help the grin that lights up my face. “And what are those?”
“Need me to stroke your ego?”
“Maybe?”
I brace for her witty retort, but the look on my face must stop her.
She pushes me off her, and I land on my back as she climbs on top of me.
“The strength in your body is my favorite part.” She leans down and kisses my forehead.
“So strong. Capable of making split-second decisions while also being considerate and gentle.”
She kisses my lips. “A little mouthy, but kind when it matters.” Her mouth glides down to my shoulders.
“Solid. Carrying the weight of an entire community of people who depend on you.” Soft lips cover me in kisses until she hovers over my biceps.
“Well-built. Sturdy enough to lift the burdens that most can’t carry.
” After covering both of my arms in kisses, her fingers stroke my chest, teasing the smattering of chest hair.
“Powerful enough to take care of what matters most.”
Her words are a balm to my soul, healing a part of it I thought would never be whole again.
No one has ever seen me like Raven does, never viewed my weaknesses as strengths.
I’m overcome with emotion, and I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on the way her lips caress my skin, as if they’re mending the wounds others have left behind.
Then she hovers over my stomach, and when I look down, she’s staring at me with such intensity, my breath catches in my throat.
“Your strength is in your soft parts. The ones you’re brave enough to bare to those that matter.
The parts of you that provide comfort behind your strength.
And this one is my favorite.” Her head dips down, and her soft lips graze the skin around my navel.
I’m writhing with need as she licks a slow circle, then dips her tongue inside.
She pulls back suddenly. “Wait, do you wash inside this thing?”
A hearty laugh escapes me. “Fuck off. Yes, I wash my belly button.”
Her feline grin is infectious. “Just checking.” Then her mouth is against my flesh, nipping and sucking.
I want to cover myself, hide my belly that’s a little too big, too soft, too jiggly, but her mouth feels too damn good.
I’ve never let anyone worship this part of me like this, and that’s exactly what Raven is doing.
Her mouth is everywhere, licking me like I’m the batter left in the bowl, and she wants to savor every drop.
“Raven, fuck. Fuuuck. I need to be inside of you.”
She sits up between my legs, gripping my thighs as her blue eyes examine my face. “I don’t want to use a condom. I get tested regularly for the sex club I go to in Denver, and my last test was clear.”
“Okay, I have follow-up questions about that.” Her eyebrows furrow. “But I get that this isn’t the time. I’m clear too. Not that you asked, but I had a scare after a one-night stand a couple years back, and I get tested regularly now.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” Her nails tickle the hairs on my inner thighs as they slowly rake upwards. “I also want to be honest.”
I sit up, leaning on my arms for support. The rolls in my belly are more pronounced like this, and her eyes flick down, widening as she takes me in. “You really like that part of me, huh? You weren’t bullshitting me?”
“Why would I lie about that? Your ego’s big enough already. There’s no need for me to continue stroking it.”
“I have something I’d love for you to stroke.”
“Focus, moron.”
My dick flexes at the insult, and her eyes clock the movement. “You weren’t lying. That actually does turn you on.”
“More than you know, though I’m not sure what that says about me.” I reach down, gripping the base of my aching cock as I give it a few hard strokes.
“I like it rough,” she blurts, and I nearly come in my hand.
“Spitfire, you can’t say shit like that unless you want me to come before I’m even inside of you.”
“That doesn’t scare you?”
“Nothing about you scares me.”
She takes a deep breath. “I like it rough, but I also like to be rough. Sorry, I know talking about this is probably killing the mood, but…”
“You need a plan?”
She nods. It’s tentative, as if she’s nervous to continue. “What do you know about BDSM?”
“Like the dominatrix stuff? Wait, are you actually into the red room shit?” I can’t hide the excitement in my voice.
Her brow furrows. I’m fucking this up.
“I don’t know anything about it beyond what I’ve seen on social media, and I’m sure that’s not accurate. I get this matters to you, and if it’s important to you, I want to know all about it. Teach me.”
“I like being in charge. Telling you what to do. But I also like being dominated. I’m not a domme or a sub. I’m a switch because I switch between the two.”
“So, how does this work?” Her eyes go wide, like she wasn’t expecting my answer.
“Personally, I like to focus on one dynamic at a time. And it usually depends on a variety of factors.”
“Such as?”
“My mood. Your mood. My energy. Any fantasies I want to explore. Where I’m at emotionally. If I’ve triggered any of my sensory issues.”
I wait for her to continue. “What do you need right now?”
Her face softens. “I need you to take control. I need you to tell me exactly what you want me to do. And I need your filthy words to distract me.”