Page 74 of Raven

He was everywhere—his mouth on my neck, his hands at my thighs, his body pressed against me.

“God, I can’t stop touching you,” he groaned.

“Then don’t.”

It was frantic and messy andperfect. We moved together like we were chasing something only we could find in each other. He kissed me like he needed me to breathe. I clung to him like he was the only solid thing in the world. We reached the peak together—loud, unrestrained, wild.

Afterward, we slid to the floor in a sweaty heap, laughing between kisses.

“I think we broke your wall,” I mumbled, tracing a finger over his chest.

“It was worth it.”

It didn’t stop there.

The kitchen. The couch. Even the damn laundry room.

Every time our eyes met, that spark ignited again. He’d pull me close. I’d slip my hands beneath his shirt. Clothes disappeared, inhibitions forgotten.

We swam again later, just as the sun started to sink. He lifted me in the waves and made love to me with the ocean roaring behind us and stars beginning to pierce the sky. We were out so far that no one could see us.

It was primal. Beautiful. Completely unrestrained.

And when we finally collapsed in our bed that night, tangled in sheets and each other, I looked at him and said, “This doesn’t feel real.”

He brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “It’s real. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

I fell asleep with his heartbeat under my ear, his hand on my hip, and a warmth inside me that had nothing to do with the blanket.

It wasn’t just desire anymore.

It was home.

THE END

KEEP READING FOR CYCLONE’S STORY

36

Cyclone

We weren’t supposedto be here this long. What was supposed to be a grab-and-go op had turned into five days of ducking machete-wielding men in the jungle, dodging trackers with too many dogs and not enough conscience, and rationing protein bars until Faron threatened to eat his boot.

And now? We were in a damn pit.

A literal, dark-as-hell, smells-like-sweaty-death kind of pit.

“You okay?” I whispered.

“Define okay,” Faron grunted beside me. “If okay means I’m covered in what Ihopeis mud and thinking about faking my own death to avoid having to tell the guys what we landed in, then yeah. Peachy.”

“Shh,” I said, tilting my head toward the top. Voices. Close. Angry.

We held still. Waited. Let the bastards pass.

When it went quiet, I boosted Faron up. He scrambled, grunted, and disappeared over the edge. A second later, he reached down and yanked me up like we were pulling each other out of hell.

We hit the jungle floor running, branches slapping our faces, thorns catching our sleeves, every muscle in my body screaming from exhaustion.

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