Page 71 of Twisted Love

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “I’ll stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”

I shake my head, tears pricking my eyes from the overwhelming intensity of it all. “It’s not too much and you’re not hurting me,” I say, my voice trembling. “Please, don’t stop.”

He moves slowly at first, each thrust deliberate and measured, as though he’s holding himself back. But the tension between us builds like a storm, and soon we’re lost in it, our movements frantic and desperate. My legs wrap around his waist. Once he is anchored to me, I tilt my hips to meet him, each collision of our bodies sending incredible sparks of pure pleasure skittering through me.

“Raven,” he groans, his voice raw with emotion. The way he says my name like it is a prayer, makes me almost climax. I cling to him, my arms wrapping around his back, my nails clawing into his back as though he is my lifeline.

The heat between us builds to a fever pitch, each thrust is a shockwave of sensations. It’s overwhelming and consuming, as though I’m teetering on the edge of something infinite. He plunges deeper as his rhythm intensifies.

Every inch of me feels electrified, all my nerves are ablaze with sensation. The weight of him above me, the heat of his skin against mine, the way he fills me completely—it’s too much. My body trembles uncontrollably.

“Earl,” I cry, his name tumbling from my lips as the pressure inside me coils tighter and tighter. I’m so close, but I don’t want this to be over. I try to hold back, but my thighs clench around him and instantly his body understands and he becomes relentless. His thrusts are deep and fast, each one hitting a spot that has me seeing stars.

“You’re perfect. Every part of you.” His voice, low, rough, and thick with desire.

His words unravel me completely, the coil inside me snapping with such force that I feel myself shatter around him, my body convulsing as waves of ecstasy crash over me. It’s blinding, overwhelming, my back arching off the bed as I cry out, his name breaking on my lips. Every muscle in my body trembles as the pleasure floods every inch of me.

His thrusts carry on through the aftershocks, his own climax building as he drives into me one final time. Suddenly, he stills, his body shuddering against mine as he finds his release, a low, guttural sound escaping him as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. His arms tighten around me, his chest heaving.

A strange peace envelops our spent bodies. Our hearts pound in unison and it feels as if there are only two of us tangled together forever.

It is so beautiful and precious that for a long time, neither of us moves until eventually, he shifts carefully and pulls me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. The steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek—it’s everything I didn’t know I needed.

I listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat as it returns to normal. His fingers trail up and down my back in lazy, soothing patterns, and I close my eyes, letting the calm of the moment wash over me.

A lump forms in my throat and I press a kiss to his chest, the taste of salt from his skin mingling with my tears.

We lie there without saying a word to the other, our bodies entwined. I think of how far we’ve come, of all the hurt and anger we’ve survived, and I feel something new blooming between us—hope. A fragile, beautiful hope that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

Eventually, sleep claims us, but we don’t let go of each other. We stay tangled together, our bodies a testament to the love and healing we’ve begun to find our way back to.

CHAPTER44

RAVEN

The damp heat in the conservatory wraps around me like a cocoon, its glass walls glowing softly under the afternoon light. The air smells faintly of damp earth and blooming jasmine. I lean back in the chair, a wool blanket draped over my legs, and hold the phone to my ear as my mother’s familiar voice spills through the speaker.

“He’s doing so much better, Raven,” she says, her voice tinged with relief. “The specialist Earl flew in was a Godsend. Your father’s strength is improving daily. He even asked for his crossword puzzles this morning.”

A smile spreads across my face. “That’s wonderful, Mom,” I say, keeping my tone light even as a pang of guilt tugs at me. I haven’t been there. I’ve been so consumed with my own recovery, with Earl … with everything.

“I knew you’d want to hear the good news,” she continues, her voice softening. “But how are you, darling? Are you taking care of yourself?”

“I am,” I assure her, though I don’t delve into details. It’s easier to keep the conversation focused on them for now. I want to wait until I can visit them in person, to show them I’m doing better rather than just saying it.

We talk a little longer, her words filling the space with warmth. When we finally say goodbye, I feel lighter and happier. I set the phone on the small table beside me and glance toward the garden beyond the glass. There is a thick layer of snow over it now. It looks so pristine and beautiful. If I was better I would be out walking it.

Still, I have good news. Very good recent news that I want to tell my mother about, but not just yet. Until I’m absolutely sure. There’s still too much uncertainty. Things between me and Earl have been improving, but I just need a bit more time to be sure, so I’m going to keep it to myself for a little while longer.

My thoughts shift fully to Earl. He’d left early this morning, his expression tight as he kissed my forehead and told me he’d be back soon. Something had happened at the construction site. A scaffolding collapsed, and there were injuries. My chest tightens just thinking about it. I know Earl is careful, but accidents can happen to anyone. I reach for my phone again, hesitating before composing a quick text.

Are you okay? Please let me know when you’ll be back.

I hit send, my thumb lingering over the screen as if waiting for an immediate response. He hasn’t texted all day, and the silence gnaws at me, but I understand. Some people are hurt, a few even seriously so. I shouldn’t be selfish. He’ll call me when he has the time.

The sound of hurried footsteps breaks my thoughts, and I glance up to see Nora standing at the door. She looks distressed and her hands twist in her apron.

“Mrs Jackson,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “There’s … there’s a … guest here to see you.”

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