Page 52 of Raven's Rise
Angelet laid the flat of her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Go to the bed.”
“At last. Come with me.” He held out a hand and gave her a look that struck her as a little too triumphant.
She crossed her arms. “That sounded like an order.”
“Not meant to be,” Rafe said quickly. “More of an invitation. But you’re in charge.”
“How lovely,” she said. “Go to the bed and lie down. On your back.”
“Yes, my lady.” He didn’t exactly mock her as he made his way to the bed, but Angelet sensed his confidence. He thought she’d slide right next to him and put herself in his hands. He was wrong.
She padded across the floor to the bed, climbing onto the mattress next to Rafe. He watched her with intense interest, but knew enough to not reach out to her without permission.
Every time she’d lain with her husband, Angelet had been beneath him, pressed into the bed, watching as he took her and then lost himself in desire. She’d rarely felt the same ecstasy at the end, and decided that perhaps being above was what mattered. Strange how the old thoughts, long forgotten, suddenly returned.
Now with a seemingly obedient Rafe in her bed, Angelet wanted to know how it felt to be the one on top. She positioned herself over him, sliding one leg over his body so that she was straddled across his hips, his erection just between her legs.
Rafe’s eyes lit up. “Tell me what you need.”
Angelet surveyed the man under her. She put her hands on him, sliding over his stomach. “It’s probably shameful to admit,” she said, “but when you fought Dobson that one night, I couldn’t stop looking at you. Even in the midst of all that chaos, the sight of you half-naked was nearly all I can remember.”
“Well, if it distracted you from being terrorized by the fact that someone was trying to kill you, that’s something.”
“You’re always so flippant,” she criticized.
“Not always. Please notice how very sincerely I’m following your orders, my lady.”
She slid her hands along his arms from his shoulders to his wrists, drawing them up above his head. Rafe knew exactly what she was doing, of course, but he didn’t object.
“You can’t touch me,” she instructed.
“Your loss,” he returned easily, even as he stretched out his arms to keep his hands well out of danger.
“My choice,” she corrected him.
She kissed him then, over and over, her mouth tasting him freely as she explored his body. He was a pleasure to touch, and even to tease, such as when she ran her hand over his erection and heard his breath change in response. She ached to know exactly how he’d feel inside her.
But though she knew what she should do next, she hesitated. Flashes of remembered awkwardness and pain came to her. What if she was no longer made for a man?
“Angelet, let me show you what to do.”
She turned her head aside, hating that Rafe had seen the weakness in her, the lack of decision.
“Just for a moment?” he pleaded. “To serve you.”
At her nod, he took hold of her hips and eased himself into her body. She gasped in surprise at first, almost regretting her agreement to spend the night with him. What had she been thinking? He was large and she hadn’t been with any man for so long. She moaned as he entered her, and heard the sound echoed by Rafe, who closed his eyes and looked almost as if he’d been struck.
“Damn, you’re so…”
“I’m what?” she asked fearfully.
“Perfect.”
“Oh.”
“Take your time, love,” he said. “Sit up if you like. Shift till you feel me the way you want to.”
She took his advice. She kept her eyes closed and began to rock her hips slowly against his.
