by Lauren Dane
Long dark hair with threads of deep blue shot through it. Large, high breasts, silver bars through each nipple. Her skin was pale, creamy, and covered with ink here and there. Her legs were long, her toenails a deep red. She was bold, the way she looked back at him. And yet there was a fragility to Raven that grabbed him and didn’t let go. He was torn between a clawing desire and a need to cosset and spoil.
The stars she’d indicated earlier started at her left hip and scattered up her belly, across to her other hip and up her rib cage. Up each of her inner arms she had thorns and roses that wrapped around her biceps and shoulders.
“I see three tattoos. Where are the others?”
She turned, pulling her hair aside. Across her back spilled ivy and purple flowers.
“What are the flowers?”
“Forget-me-nots.”
Her voice, threaded with tension, tugged at him, drawing him closer.
“Eula?” He traced over the word that had been woven into a knot of ivy.
“My great-grandmother.”
Each time she told him something personal it felt like a victory. “Ah. This work is stunning.”
On her back at each hip sat a triangle with swirls.
“What are the triangles?”
“Triquetra on each side. Same basic concept, but the right is based on the disc I used to put in my 45 singles back when I had a record player. The other, well, it’s got personal meaning.”
“Enlighten me.”
“The nature of three. Mind, body, spirit. Maiden, mother, crone. The three levels of earth. That design is Celtic. Like I said earlier, Brody did all my work. He’s an artist, isn’t he?”
Jonah didn’t want any other man’s name on her lips. Even though he knew Brody Brown was a man who appeared to adore his wife and two daughters. Jonah knew too that Brody and Raven had once been involved.
“You’re quite the canvas.”
He noted the soft upturn of her lips. A pleased, touched smile. He wanted to see it again.
“Can I undress you?”
The two of them paused. Each seemingly surprised by the request.
“Yes.”
She pulled his shirt off again, leaning in to press an openmouthed kiss against his chest.
“Your body is beautiful.” She murmured it, nearly to herself.
He didn’t stop himself from sliding his palms over her shoulders and down her back, drawing her closer as she pulled his pants open and then down, kneeling as she did.
He stepped from his pants and shorts and then she looked up his body, shocking him into utter stillness as he took in the sight of this woman on her knees before him.
It was more than kneeling to get at his cock. It was . . . more. So much more.
“I like the way you look there. On your knees before me.”
“Do you?”
He nodded, sliding his fingers through her hair.
“I do. Very much. So much that I think you should suck my cock. Yes, yes, I think that’s definitely what you should do.”
She leaned in, brushing her cheek against the line of his cock until he nearly hissed. How such a small thing could feel so amazing he didn’t know, but it did.
She licked up the line from his sac to the crown, around and around, before sucking him into the heat of her mouth. Hot and wet, she took him deep, so deep he grunted at how amazing it felt.
Over and over, the rhythm of her down and up, down and up, the heat cooling as she retreated, only to shock him again as she swallowed his cock. Her nails scored up the backs of his thighs, her hands flattening on his ass to pull him closer.
From his vantage point he could take in the color on her back as her hair moved. It was so good he had an inner quarrel with himself. He told himself he could stop her in just a bit because he wanted more of her mouth. Then he told himself he had great recovery time and if he came in her mouth—and that idea appealed quite a lot—that he could concentrate on making her come and then by the time he was ready again, he could fuck her.
So he could have both.
Yes, that was it.
What he really wanted was to grab that gorgeous hair, wrap it around his fists for purchase so he could fuck her face. Not dignified. But he wanted it with so much greed it clawed at him.
She pulled back and looked up at him. The sight of those eyes and the expression on her face shocked him to his toes.
“Is there a problem?” One brow rose.
He laughed, giving in enough to caress her face and head. “Only the wealth of options you present.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t know you well enough yet.”
“Hm. You know me well enough to put your cock in my mouth.”
Put that way . . .
He licked his lips.
“I said I didn’t play games when it came to sex and I meant it. I think you should do the same.”
He didn’t want to scare her off. God knew he wanted at this woman for a while to come. But she was right.
“Get back to work.”
His tone changed, and then his expression did. It sent a shiver through her and there was nothing more she wanted than to do exactly as he’d asked. No. Commanded.
So she did.
She knew he’d been holding back. Could feel the fine muscle tension in his arms as he’d touched her.
And then he shoved his fingers through her hair and tugged hard enough to bring a gasp, which quickly turned into a moan. That did things to her; shivers ran riot over her skin as her control slipped.
He tugged. Using her hair. Bringing her mouth on him closer, sending his cock farther back into her mouth.
She hated it when men touched her head during a blow job. But this was . . . different. Like a whole different planet.
He groaned and thrust as he pulled her forward, using her hair.
She struggled to get her breathing right, fought back panic. But she could do this, damn it. She wanted to do it. Wanted to make him feel good. Got off on the way he handled her, taking what he wanted.
And in a minute or two, she found her rhythm, got her breathing regulated and relaxed.
She hummed and he snarled. The satisfaction of affecting him like that seemed to shoot straight to her nipples, which throbbed in time with her thundering heart.
“Goddamn, yes. Like that. Christ, you’re so fucking hot.”
She held on, breathing, licking and sucking until his taste filled her, the hot wet of him titillated as she took everything he had to give.
And when she pulled back and kissed him, he picked her up, raining kisses all over her face as he moved her to his bed and lay her there with so much care she had to open her eyes to look at him.
He was smiling. “Wow.”
It made her laugh as he joined her, the heat of his body against hers.
“Thanks.”
“Now it’s my turn to get a taste.”
He kissed her. Kissed her so long and slow and deep she thought she’d burst from her skin. She was pretty sure she hadn’t kissed like this in fifteen years at least. There was sex now, and so the kiss got short shrift on the way to fucking, which was a certainty. Back in the days of the long make-out, sex was an oh-my-god-I-hope-she-lets-me thing.
But this man knew he’d fuck her. And he kissed her long and slow because he wanted to. It was disarming and the panic returned. She was a kiss-a-few-times, fuck-hard-and-fast-and-go-home sort of woman. It suited her. But this was soul-deep fucking. Jonah Warner got under her skin, saw into her heart, and there were things inside she didn’t want anyone knowing.
But he wasn’t one to be rushed.
She took his hand and put it on her breast. He twisted the bar until she gasped into his mouth. And then he slid that hand all along her arm, clasping her fingers with his. And kept kissing.
He nipped her bottom lip. So hard it sent ripples of pain through her body. And then he returned to lave the sting with such gentleness it cut through her.
He ki
ssed her, licked her tongue, her lips, he nipped and laved, sucked and seduced her mouth until she’d have given him just about anything.
And he was only getting started.
Later, she’d realize this was probably the moment she’d gotten in over her head with this man. But she couldn’t think straight. Not with his hands on her. Not with the way he made her feel singing through her veins. She was drunk with him.
He finally pulled back, his face still very close to hers. His lips swollen from those long, drugging kisses. “You taste so good.”
She swallowed hard. She worked to reclaim her inner sex vixen, but he rendered her a lazy mess, like a kitten in a freaking patch of sunshine.
He kissed along her jawline. Back to the spot just below her ear. She hadn’t realized what an erogenous zone it was until he put his mouth there, hot, and sent sensation straight to her clit. She was so wet right then, just from kisses, for god’s sake. She should have been embarrassed. But really, she only wanted him to keep on doing whatever it was he wanted. So he could continue to make her feel.
Nibbling across her collarbone, he took his time. Tasting her. Teasing her senses. The edge of his teeth surprising her when he nipped or abraded her skin with them.
“You’re a master at this,” she managed to murmur, sounding like a drunk.
“It’s all you.” He kissed along her rib cage, down her side. Up her belly until at long last he got to her tits.
“Hallelujah.”
He chuckled as he nibbled along the swell beneath her nipple.
“I love how this looks.” Then he flicked his tongue over her nipple until it hardened, tugging on the bar, stealing her breath. She’d always found the bars to enhance nipple play. But this was—like the rest of Jonah—something else entirely.
He licked and then tugged on the bar with his teeth, wracking her system with pleasure so sharp she had to clench her teeth.
“Mmmm. You like that.”
“Uh, yes. I’m voting yes on everything you’ve brought to the table so far.”
“Good to know.”
He moved to her other nipple and did the same magic there. Nipples were great and all, but she wasn’t usually one of those women who could come just from nipple stimulation. But Jonah’s mouth might prove that wrong.
The scratch of his scruff only made the experience hotter as he abraded her skin. He kissed down her belly, over to the hollow at each hip. She floated in a haze of pleasure. She might have begged him to get on with it, but it probably never actually got out of her mouth.
He ran his tongue through the seam where her thigh met her leg. On one side and then kissed over to the other.
Then—sweet baby Jesus, thank you—he finally pushed her thighs wide.
She was a feast.
That’s really all there was to it. Raven was a lush bounty and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from binging. Her mouth, dear god, that mouth, so delicious. It certainly didn’t hurt that her lips were swollen from his cock. Her skin tasted just right. Like nothing he’d had before. But he wanted it. Wanted more. Those pierced nipples had done him in. So fucking hot.
And now he stared at the ring nestled between her labia.
“Your clit is pierced. Holy fuck.”
“Not my clit. The hood.”
Her words were slightly slurred, slow and lazy. Good.
His cock wanted him to be aware that it was just fine and ready to go again. He wanted inside that glistening cunt.
But first he was going to eat her until he made her come really, really hard.
He leaned in close and breathed her in. Then he licked. So. Fucking. Good.
Hot.
The appeal of the piercing wasn’t something he could deny. He tugged gently at first. But her moans deepened when he increased pressure, so he tugged harder.
He reached down to grab her ankles, shoving her feet up and back, spreading her open wide and utterly at his mercy.
More of this woman’s bounty to take.
And he did. Licking and sucking, fucking her with his tongue. He wanted this to last.
Her clit was swollen and hard. Each time he licked over the piercing she gave a long, shuddering sigh. Probably mimicking the one in his head. Over and over. She was so amazingly responsive to his touch. So he just kept touching.
It was the way he sucked her clit into his lips, licking the underside after he’d tugged on that damned ring, that finally pushed her over. Her back bowed, muscles seized and she groaned long and hard as her taste filled every part of him in a hot, slick rush.
He found the muscle control to reach for the nightstand.
She opened her eyes and stretched lazily, grabbing him with her thighs and holding on. “Where you goin’?”
He held the foil package up for her to see. “Just a quick intermission.”
Her smile made him even harder.
“Roll over. Ass up. Head down.”
She complied so easily he had to take a deep breath and count to ten before he touched his cock to put the condom on.
“Goddamn, you’re like a work of art.”
He lined up at the notch of her cunt and pressed in, the breath leaving him. So hot she scalded him through the latex. She pressed back, taking him in deep and he slapped her ass without thinking. Then he snatched his hand back, unable to tear his gaze from the rising, red handprint he’d created.
But she didn’t punch him or recoil in horror. Instead her cunt gripped him tighter, so tight he nearly saw stars when he had to close his eyes to get his control back.
“I decide the pace.”
“All right.”
He rewarded her with a hard thrust and she gave him a moan that shot through his system.
Her skin was beautiful and pale. The mark he made only spiced the edge of his hunger. He wanted to see a bite mark, or the bruise from his thumb. Wanted to know she’d wear the evidence of the way he’d been in her, long after she’d left his house.
Greed for her seemed to rush through him. Desire so deep he struggled against it until he realized there was no way out and simply gave in. She’d been different from the first moment he’d spoken to her. Hell, even before that as he’d caught sight of her at the edges of the few events they’d both been part of.
He ran his hands over her curves, over the nip of her waist, the bumps of her vertebrae, the sweet flesh of her ass.
And he gave it another slap. Again, harder than he’d imagined.
It burned. The pain, for long moments, had roused her from that lazy pleasure at the way he’d felt when he’d worked his cock into her pussy. And then the burn spread. Slow and delicious. Tingling.
And then . . . he’d told her he controlled the pace. He’d ordered her around, and for the first time in her life, instead of reacting and pushing back, she let him. And it had been . . . really, really good.
So she let it be.
He’d given her an orgasm from his mouth that had pretty much devastated the memory of every other damned orgasm she’d ever had. And her sex life had been really healthy and awesome. So really, what was the point in arguing when he clearly delivered on the promise to make her feel good?
His cock was fat. Filling her just right. His hands had settled at her hips, fingers digging in to control her movement as he’d begun to fuck her in short, hard digs that sent her tits brushing against the blanket beneath her. Sending slow waves of pleasure through her when she’d just come moments before.
He had game all right.
Jonah fucked her at his pace. Just like he’d said. Slow and hard. A fairly irresistible combination. She’d fallen into a place, a dreamy sort of consciousness, floating on the pleasure, flattered—insanely so—that he so clearly found her desirable.
One hand let go and he got closer as he reached around her waist and down, finding her pussy. She sucked in a breath as he tugged the ring and then squeezed her clit. He played awhile, seemingly testing her to find what she liked best. And then he worked it, over and
over and over, until she was coming again and he grunted a strained curse and pushed in deep.
They fell to the mattress. He disappeared for a few moments and came right back, putting an arm over her waist and then pulling her close.
“When I regain the ability to move again, I have ice cream in my freezer.”
“You’re going to propose some sort of Faustian bargain, aren’t you?” She mumbled this into the hard muscle of his biceps. “I mean, awesome sex, great food and now ice cream? Will I have to give you my soul?”
He chuckled. “Maybe.”
And she still didn’t run.
4
He really couldn’t have said why he found himself standing in front of Written On The Body just three days later.
Which was a total lie. The reason lay just inside. Jonah hadn’t been able to get her off his mind. Her voice, the way she smelled. The feel of her body against his own. She’d lodged herself under his skin, drawing his attention. And he didn’t care to fight it.
That night at his home he’d wanted her to stay over but she’d refused. Politely enough. But when he’d woken up alone and hard, it had only underlined how much more he craved from this woman.
She stood at the counter, grinning up at Brody Brown. Jonah frowned. Oh, he knew there was nothing romantic between them. Not anymore.
Just the evening before he’d seen Levi and Daisy at an art event in town and he’d opened himself up to so much trouble when he’d pumped Daisy for information about Raven. He’d never hear the end of it. From Daisy and from his brother.
He knew though that for a time, many, many years before, Raven and Brody had been a thing. That Brody had been in love with her, or had thought he was, and she’d never wanted to settle down and had been with someone else. Daisy had been careful to underline, though, that Raven, by all reports, had been clear with Brody that she wasn’t monogamous. It had meant something to know she hadn’t cheated.
But the two were close to this day. Daisy had indicated that there was trouble when Brody’s wife, Elise, had first come onto the scene, but the two women had worked things out, and that she was extremely connected to Brody and Elise’s daughters.
