Page 69 of Ravaged
“Why am I not surprised you understand?” she asks, the faint smile on her lips also in her tone. She briefly closes her eyes. “Thank you for being my friend. Because of you, I’ve started to let go of the past. As itwas pointed out to me recently, I’m refusing to allow what happened with Robert to dictate my choices, my perceptions of people, even how I enjoy life. I’ve been going through the years mistrustful and suspicious. It almost prevented me from getting to know you. It almost kept me from being here, in this moment.” She turns her head into my palm, kisses it.
I’m reeling from themy friend. Those two words stab me in the chest like the sharpest knife, and it’s hard to believe I’m not bleeding out on the carpet in front of her. It’s one thing to be friend-zoned when we’ve known each other for a couple of weeks.
It’s another to be relegated to that hellscape when I’m in love with her.
Because I love this woman.
She’s the fairy tale I’ve been waiting for, that I refused to settle for.
And I’m her ... friend.
A despair surges within me, swelling so quick, so furious, that my already flimsy defenses crumble under it. Fast on its heels is an urgency to grab at this moment, at the present, with greedy, grasping hands. To hold on so I can preserve it as long as it’s able to last.
I lift my other hand to her face, tip her head back, and brush my mouth over hers. Her hands circle my wrists, and she hangs on to me, parting her lips and taking me inside.
God, she’s so sweet. Sweet sin.
Our tongues tangle, indulging in a dance that my dick is weeping to bust in on. But it has to wait. Because I’m not ready to release this wicked treat of a mouth. I dive deeper, licking, sucking, worshipping. I need to seek out every part of her and pay its due. And she returns the sentiment. She releases my wrists and buries her hands in my hair, thrusting into my mouth, lapping at the piercing at the corner of my lip, tugging at it, entering in an erotic duel on my turf.
I rise to my feet, bringing her with me. In one seamless motion and with no effort at all, I hike her into my arms. A fierce satisfaction barrelsthrough me at the differences in our frames, our physical makeup. It probably labels me an asshole caveman, but it doesn’t stop the primal glee at being able to lift her petite body, cup her gorgeous ass, and hold her against me. Our mouths still fucking each other, I carry her over to the couch and, turning, sink down, arranging her over my lap so she’s straddling my thighs.
We groan into each other. On reflex, my hips grind upward, stroking my cock against her bare pussy. My shorts provide no protection against her wet heat. Tunneling one hand into her hair to keep her mouth fused to mine, I grasp her hip with the other, guiding her movements. Back and forth. Tight little mind fuck of a circle. Back and forth. That circle. She’s messing up my shorts with all that soaking wet, and they’re officially my favorite pair. My cock pounds as she rides me, and I can’t help myself. Jerking my head back, I fist the bottom of my shirt that she’s wearing and twist it up and out of the way, granting myself an unrestricted view of that perfect glistening sex stroking up and down my cloth-covered dick.
It’s almost as good as feeling it.
Yeah, that’s a lie.
Nothing is better than that hot, slick flesh directly on mine.
And I need it. Now.
Squeezing her hip, I halt her movements and reach into my shorts, pulling my erection free. I fist the base, holding myself for her. Clenching my jaw at the damp kiss of her sex across the very tip. “Take me in, Miriam,” I demand. Beg.Take me home.
Eyes meeting mine, she curls her fingers into my shoulders and slowly sinks down. I yank the T-shirt over her head, and the blonde curls spring about her head. Lust glazes her hooded eyes, has her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. As her pussy slowly inches its way down my cock, claiming more and more of me, I pull that full curve loose and push my thumb between her lips, sliding it over her tongue.
Withdrawing it, I circle her nipple, watching it pebble, feeling her pussy flutter and spasm around me. On a groan, I cup both breasts, squeezing, molding, plumping.
“Jordan.” She presses her forehead to mine and, with a shudder, swallows the rest of me. “God, I can feel ...” Another shiver, a full-body quake, rolls over her, and it echoes in her sex. My eyes nearly cross as it ripples over my cock.
“Nothing feels as good as you, Miriam. Nothing ...” Nothing ever will. “Fuck me, sweetheart.”
And she does.
She rises and falls, dragging that perfect tight sex up and down my cock, fisting me, sucking at me. I cup the back of her neck, yanking her forward, crushing my mouth to hers. Her rhythm stutters but picks back up, and she’s taking us there, racing for that line that’s the ultimate goal. Pleasure.
Reaching between us, I sweep my fingers over her clit, circling, rubbing. And when she stiffens and her sex clamps down on my cock, I growl, ecstasy nailing me in the back of the head. Gripping her hips, I thrust up into her, fucking her through the orgasm, shoving me headfirst into my own.
As she sags against me, I plunge again and again, pistoning through her grasping core until it comes for me. Rapture.
Oblivion.
Home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JORDAN
“I’ve faced men, demons, wizards, and revenants. None have terrified me. Just you.”
