Page 84 of Echoes of the Raven
He twists his pants in the same fashion as his shirt, but I’m barely aware of this. Instead, I’m mesmerized by the way water sluices down his strong thighs. The way his hip bones jut out. The way his powerful shaft hangs between his legs.
A hot jolt strikes my core, and warm moisture seeps between my legs.
Gods!What’s wrong with me? Why does he make me feel this way? Why does my body want him when my mind easily finds a million reasons to hate him?
Suddenly, Rífíor goes still.
I stiffen, fearing he has perceived some sort of danger. He’s attentive for a frozen moment, head cocked to one side, then his dark eyes flick directly to mine.
A second jolt of desire hits my core, followed by the heat of a blush.
Gods! Smite this tree and take me down with it.
No such luck.
Cheeks burning, I climb down the tree and, when I reach the bottom, sink to my haunches and hide my face in my hands.
For the love of all the gods, what is he going to think now?
33
RÍFÍOR
“It has started. A dark shadow falls over Castellina.”
Gaspar Patrach - Romani Diviner - 21 AV
The river feels frigid under the light of the moon above. While everyone else in the camp sleeps, as I should be doing, my mind remains restless. Despite my efforts, I can’t quell the hunger within me. It’s been present all along, but it intensified earlier when I sensed someone watching me while I bathed. It took me a moment to spot her—a little raven perched at the top of that tree, hunting for a meal. But I found her.
She was a fair distance away, but I saw her more clearly than she may realize. Desire flickered in her expression—her pupils dilated, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she trembled. It was this unguarded display that did this to me.
I’m submerged up to my neck, and this icy water should quiet my instincts, but this want is unlike anything I have ever experienced… even with Saethara.
Valeria has done a convincing job of making me believe she hates me, but her face told a different story.
A story that sets fire to my blood.
Cursing under my breath, I walk out of the river, water dripping down my body. I crack my neck and don my now-dry clothes. Sleep will be impossible tonight.Curse all the gods!
Once dressed, I sit on a rock and stare at the flowing current. Moonlight silvers its surface, which I disturb with a handful of rocks as I search for yet another distraction. I try everything to get her out of my mind, but images of that one night we spent together keep parading in front of me, blinding me to everything else. Her naked skin glowing in the lamplight, the peaks of her firm breasts, the column of her neck as she threw her head back in ecstasy. I can almost taste the sweetness on her skin in my mouth and feel the warmth at her core as I entered her.
I jerk to my feet, growling in frustration. My cock is so hard it throbs uncomfortably. Lust clouding my every thought, I whirl and march back toward the camp. With every step, reason fights valiantly against my desire, but it loses every time.
The clearing is quiet, only the chirp of insects and the occasional hoot of an owl disturbing the peace. I stand at the edge of the clearing, chest falling and rising as I survey the camp. Tonight, everyone sleeps under the stars, except for Valeria. She opted for spreading her bedroll inside the wagon. It couldn’t be more perfect, especially because she left the door open, and I’ve convinced myself it is an invitation for me to come in.
On bare feet, I cut across the clearing and gently step onto the wagon. It lowers with my weight as I watch Valeria’s prone shape stretched along the length of the planked floor. She is sound asleep. Her rhythmic breathing tells me that much.
I hesitate only for an instant, thinking there’s still time to turn around and take another dunk in the river. She is not waiting for me. She is lost in a dream, judging by the way her eyes revolve under closed lids.
But who am I trying to fool?
I ease the door closed, shutting out most of the moonlight. However, I can still discern her silhouette illuminated by the faint rays filtering through a small window carved at the highest point of the front wall.
Doing my best not to scare her, I kneel at her feet, then crawl on hands and knees up the length of her body, never touching her. I feel her radiating warmth, and it is like a salve that promises healing and maybe even salvation.
When I am face to face with her—my arms and legs framing her body—I inhale her scent, impossibly getting more aroused.
“Valeria,” I whisper, her name a guttural growl deep in my throat.
