The Ravager Chronicles: The Complete Series

by Sara Page

  It’s been so long, and for so long I longed for this. Longed to be connected to him. Longed to just share the same space as him.

  It feels like I’ve been running a marathon and now I can finally catch my breath. I finally get a moment of bliss.

  After some time, he leans back and stares into my eyes as if he’s searching for confirmation of something. Then he rolls off of me and stands from the bed with purpose. Grabbing me by the hand, he pulls me up

  “What are you doing?” I ask as he tugs me by the hand.

  I was hoping we would spend more time in bed. Hoping we could get physically reacquainted.

  “I wish to cleanse you,” he growls as he pulls me by the hand and leads me into the bathing facilities with him.

  “Oh,” I exhale and feel a jolt of excitement at the thought of his slick, soapy hands sliding all over me… especially my breasts.

  The bathing facilities connected to my apartment are very spacious and generous. There’s an extra-large shower with multiple spouts that could easily fit three or more Ravagers comfortably inside it at once. A vanity that stretches across the entire back wall with a curved mirror that gives a full 360-degree reflection. And a deep, bubbling pool of scented water in the very center of all of it.

  Pausing in front of the pool of water, Beast turns to me and his hands touch my shoulders, pushing down the sleeves of my dress.

  I remain still for him with my chin tipped up, peering into his eyes, watching them flash as they lock on my exposed skin.

  “Do you bathe me to purify me?” I ask as the fabric of my dress slides down, exposing my breasts.

  I can’t even count how many times he’s bathed me or washed me, and a part of me is worried he does it because he somehow believes I’m dirty or something.

  “I do this,” Beast grins and pushes my dress down the curve of my hips. “Because I like it.”

  “Only because you like it?” I ask, suppressing my own grin as he draws in a loud breath.

  I’m standing before him completely naked now and I love how much of an effect my body has on him. Even after all the changes my pregnancy caused to it—my hips are wider, my stomach is softer, and there are light stretch marks scoring my breasts—it’s obvious Beast still very much enjoys my body. He’s becoming aroused just looking at me.

  Gaze gliding back up, I shiver, feeling as if his eyes are caressing my naked skin. “Why else would I do it, my princess?” he asks.

  I take a step forward and reach out, undoing the buttons on his uniform for him. “Perhaps you think I’m tainted or corrupted?”

  “Never,” Beast says harshly and reaches down, pulling me into him.

  I only managed to get a couple of his buttons undone and now they’re digging into my stomach.

  He brushes my hair back and tips my chin up to look at him. “I do it, Ameia, because I like to take care of you. I need to do it.”

  I try to shake my head and he growls in warning. “You don’t need to do it,” I tell him. “I’m capable of taking care of myself. I’m not a little girl, dammit.”

  “I do,” he insists. “I need to take care of you. I need to protect you and provide for you because you’re mine.”

  I sigh and his head drops down. His lips crash into my lips. He kisses me hard and deep, so hard and deep he’s nearly bruising my lips.

  “Mine,” he growls again and takes a step forward forcing me to take a step back. “Do you understand, Ameia?”

  I lower my lashes coyly and suck in a much needed breath.

  His grip on my chin tightens and he repeats, “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I answer, and he rewards me with another furious kiss.

  “Fuck,” he growls between thrusts of his tongue. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  His grip on my chin relaxes and he closes his eyes as we pant together, catching our breath.

  After a long moment, he reaches down and helps me undo the rest of his buttons. Rolling his massive shoulders, his tunic slides off his arms and hits the floor a second before I start working on his pants.

  After that kiss, there’s this desperate need building inside me to be joined with him. To feel his skin against my skin.

  To be connected again.

  I fumble with his button and he has to reach down to help me. Taking over, he easily unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to the floor before stepping out of them.

  I take a step back and roam my eyes all over his body. This beautiful body that’s so big, so muscled and intimidating… I was scared to death of him when I first laid eyes upon him, but now I’m incredibly excited just by the sight of him.

  Beast seems to swell under my appraisal, and if anything, over these past couple of months I swear he’s only gotten bigger.

  Seriously, I swear he’s bulging in a couple of new places.

  “Come,” he rumbles and grabs my hand.

  I look down and marvel at how tiny my hand is compared to his.

  Tugging me gently, he pulls me forward. We step down into the pool of bubbling water and I bite back a moan of pleasure as the warmth hits my legs.

  The pool is deeper than it looks. As we reach the bubbling center, the water comes all the way up to my breasts. But seeing how far up the water comes up on Beast I suppose it makes sense, the pool only comes up to his waist.

  Wading through the bubbles, Beast leads me to the back ledge where a basket full of bottles and cloths have been left.

  Keeping my hand secured in his grip, he grabs a bottle, flips it open and sniffs it. He must find the bottle to his liking because the next thing he does is extend the bottle towards me.

  I lean toward the bottle, sniff the opening and then cringe. It smells very musky and much too pungent.

  “Ew,” I say, my eyes watering.

  Beast laughs and sets that bottle off to the side before grabbing another. We go through the bottles, one at a time, before we find one we both can agree on—a flowery scent that’s not too sweet yet not too faint. On him it even smells a bit masculine.

  Beast squirts a generous amount of the soap into his palm and then reaches for me but I pull back.

  “You first,” I smirk at him and hold out my hand for the bottle.

  If we start with me, we’ll never get to him, and I really want to rub my hands all over him. I have this need to worship him with my hands.

  Reluctantly Beast hands over the bottle and watches me with interest as I squirt a pink glob into my hand.

  “Come here,” I motion to him and he takes an eager step forward.

  I slip my hand out of his grip and then rub my hands together so the soap spreads over both of my palms before touching them to his hard, purple chest.

  Beast purrs as my hands touch him and his velvety skin vibrates under my soapy palms. I start just beneath his pecs and move my hands in small circular motions, just enjoying the feel of him.

  Taking my time, I can feel his eyes boring into the top of my head.

  His contented purr begins to deepen into a growl of impatience so I slide my hands up and repeat the same circular motions over his bulging pecs. Immediately his nipples harden, the tips stabbing into my palms.

  I sneak a peek up and see his eyes are glowing so bright his entire face is bathed in red. His eyes meet mine and I quickly look away.

  I focus on my hands again and begin to drag them slowly down his chest, following the straight line that splits him in half all the way down to his belly button.

  “One, two, three, four…” I count quietly to myself.

  “Ameia?” Beast rumbles, and I spread my hands, fingers dancing across his abs. “What are you doing?”

  “Just counting all your muscles,” I smirk.

  There are ten abs. Wait. That can’t be right…

  Even looking down I catch the bright flash of red coming from his eyes as he growls, “You are testing my patience.”

  “Oh?” I ask, resisting the urge to peek up at him. Instead I keep sliding my hands
down until I reach the deep, defined V etched into his hips.

  He sucks in a sharp breath and his body tenses in anticipation.

  Having this big, purple alien at my complete mercy makes me feel so strong, so powerful.

  And just as I reach down to wrap my fingers around the erection jutting up from between his massive legs he loses the last of his patience and grabs me by the hips.

  “Beast!” I cry out as he spins me around.

  “You had your turn, now it’s mine.” Holding me still with one hand, he grabs the bottle and just squirts it directly onto the top of my head.

  Pursing my lips, I pout up at him. “I wasn’t done. I was just getting started.”

  “Trust me, it’s best this way,” he grits out between his teeth as he begins to soap up my hair.

  I want to argue with him, I want to tease him, but as his fingers begin to massage and work into my scalp, the words flee my pretty little head.

  This is bliss, true bliss.

  Rinsing the soap from my hair, I close my eyes and tip my head back for him. His fingers work lovingly through my tresses as he pours cupful after cupful of water over them.

  “Ameia,” he murmurs. “My Ameia.”

  Finished with my hair, I peek my eyes open to see him squirting more soap into his hands. He does like I did, spreading it over both palms.

  Starting at my shoulders, his thick fingers dig tenderly into my muscles and I feel all the strength flee my body as he massages them. My knees feel weak and it’s becoming harder and harder to remain standing.

  Then his hands slide down, leaving behind a trail of suds before they completely cover my breasts.

  My eyes pop open and I groan as his hands rub me in soapy circular motions. Over and over, his hands slide against me, not once deviating from their position.

  My nipples tighten into hard little peaks and my breasts grow heavy, achy.

  Arching my back, I thrust my breasts up, just wanting to feel his fingers tighten around me, to squeeze me.

  He’s making quite the effort though in pretending to still be washing me.

  “Are my breasts that dirty?” I ask finally, my voice breathless with need.

  “Your breasts are lovely,” he answers huskily, and that voice does things to me.

  I bite my lip against the warmth that floods my core and reach out, grabbing him by the wrists. “I think they’re clean.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” His fingers curve around me and he begins to squeeze.

  “Beast,” I gasp, arching up, pushing myself into his hands.

  “See, they’re still dirty. Aren’t they, Ameia?”

  He kneads me, working me over with his big hands. And his rhythm is so smooth, so delicious, I feel my hips picking it up, rocking forward in tune with him.

  “Beast,” I moan.

  I’m melting, and at the same time burning with need of him. He’s made me so weak, I’m literally like putty in his hands. He’s molding me, turning me into something new, his own personal creation.

  “Please,” I finally beg. His attention to my breasts has gone on for so long it’s become torturous.

  “Please, what?” he presses and his hands grip me tighter, his fingers nearly pinching. “Do you need more?”

  “Yes,” I gasp. “More. Please. I need something more than this.” I know there is something more than this but at this moment I can’t quite remember what it is.

  One hand relaxes and slides down, drifting over the softness of my stomach.

  I hold my breath in anticipation.

  His hand pushes between my thighs and my eyes nearly roll into the back of my head.

  His fingers brush against my clit.

  It’s been so long since I’ve gotten any action down there I feel like I’m overly sensitive. Operating on a hair trigger. It won’t take much to push me over the edge.

  His fingers brush over me again and my teeth sink deeper into my lip.

  I have to reach out, frantically searching for purchase on something before my knees completely give out and I fall on my ass. There’s such a rushing flood of warmth and sensation down there, it’s like my brain had to shut off other parts of my body to make up for it.

  Grabbing onto his arms just in time, I hold on to him for dear life as his slippery fingers slide over my sex.

  Back and forth, he slides his fingers over me and then without any warning, he pushes two of them into my depths.

  “Shit,” I cry out and immediately clench down on him.

  I was so not expecting him to do that, and he chuckles as if he finds my reaction humorous.

  I want to be mad that he finds this funny but I’m too busy getting lost in all the new sensations.

  Fighting through the tight grip of my sex, he pumps his fingers in and out of me, and it’s been so long, and his fingers are so big, the throbbing pressure building inside me grows and grows.

  It’s only a moment before I feel myself already pushed too close to the edge.

  One hand thrusting into my sex, his other still squeezes and fondles my breast.

  I want this, I need this. The release. The surrender.

  Giving in.

  In and out he pumps, never faltering. Never losing his rhythm. He grunts with the effort. There’s real strain in his muscles, but he doesn’t let up. He plays me as if I’m an instrument that was crafted for his talented hands.

  The pressure just keeps building and building inside me until I can no longer fight what is about to happen. It hits me all at once. The inevitable. The indescribable.

  The high just before the crash.

  I cry out, knees locking together. The walls of my sex frozen for one long glorious moment before the spasm hits.

  And then it’s a gush of pleasure.

  A flood of warm, liquid emotions.

  Words flow out of my mouth. Soft words of love. Hard words of how much I want to fuck him. I’m not entirely sure what I’m saying but he seems to be eating it up as I ride out the waves and his hand.

  He tells me how much he loves me. He growls and nearly roars how I am his.

  “Ameia, Ameia,” Beast says over and over again as I drift back down to consciousness.

  And as the last spasm trembles through me there’s no break. No time to savor the relief. His need is so strong there will be no rest.

  Fingers sliding out of me, I make a pained mewling sound. I’m so sensitive and I feel pained at the loss of him.

  By the breast he pushes me back until my spine is up against the pool ledge. Then he grabs me by the back of the knee and lifts my leg up, spreading me open to him.

  The air that hits me is like a cold bite to my hot, swollen sex.

  The red glow of his eyes lights me up and I have only a brief second to marvel at his body’s glorious perfection. At his tight, tense muscles. At his hard, long cock bobbing and bouncing as he takes the step that closes the distance between us.

  Then the head of his cock is pushing into me. I’m soaking wet and ready for him but he’s so big, so thick, I feel a pinch of resistance as if my body is trying to refuse him entrance.

  With a groan, he pushes forward, easing past the tightness.

  “Fuck, Ameia,” he growls. “You need to relax.”

  There’s not an ounce of strength left in my body. I’m not trying to fight him or resist him so all I can do is moan out, “I am.”

  “Fuck,” Beast curses, fighting his way in inch by slow inch.

  Slowly filling me up with him.

  By the time he finally bottoms out it feels like an entire eternity has passed.

  But we are connected, and that’s all that matters now.

  Somehow I find the will and strength to lift my arms and wrap them around his neck, clinging to him. And I savor the realization that once more all is right in the universe.

  Everything is as it should be because I am joined to this man.

  “How did I exist before this?” he asks, bending forward and nuzzling his fac
e against my neck.

  Before I can answer, he pulls his hips back and then slams himself back in.

  Too much, the sensation is too much.

  “Oh, gods, Beast!” I cry out.

  The need to beg for mercy is on the tip of my tongue but I can’t get it out because he rears back and slams himself home again.

  “Mine,” he growls deeply, trying to push himself into me even deeper but there’s nowhere for him to go. I’m already taking as much of him as I can.

  “Mine,” he roars into my ear and all at once, as if something has snapped deep inside him, he begins to furiously piston his hips, working his cock in and out of me like he’s gone mad.

  A barrage of sensations hit me all at once. Intense pleasure, the feeling of fullness, and a little bit of fear… he’s just so damn big and fast.

  Above me his face is a mask of intensity. His lips pulled back in a snarl, his brow pulled down and his eyes narrowed with purpose.

  It’s almost like he’s attacking me instead of fucking me.

  “Let go,” he grunts.

  Our gazes crash into each other. Mine begging him for relief, his demanding my obedience.

  I can’t.

  There’s so much pressure and pleasure built up inside me it hurts. I don’t know how to release it.

  “Let go and stop fighting me, Ameia.”

  The pressure continues to build and build.

  Is this what dying feels like? A painful euphoria?

  It goes on and on and I fear this is my life now. All I will ever know is this.

  “Ameia,” Beast’s voice scrapes against my ear, sounding metallic. “Accept it. Accept your fate. Accept me.”

  I want to tell him that I already have, I accepted him all those days ago when we were on the Harpy’s Talon but my lips just can’t seem to do it.

  Something flashes in his eyes and deep inside me something snaps.

  It’s as if my body is cracking wide open. The pressure has reached a critical point and after all the suffering I’ve endured I’m now exploding in waves of bliss.

  Beast cries out and shudders against me. Eyes locked, I’ve never felt so close to him, so in love with him. Physically we are connected, yes, but now we’re connected in another way. Forever joined in our need of each other, forever forged by this weakness.