Page 78 of A Murderous Crow
“Good girl,” he murmured. I swallowed hard and waited for him to take his hand away from my mouth, but he didn’t.
Instead, he let out a low and appreciative sound somewhere between a purr and a growl and moved the blankets off my body to get a better look at me.
“Now I’m going to make you come, and you’re going to be a good girl and take it, aren’t you, Kitten?” he asked.
I made a muffled sound from behind his hand and he chuckled, a decadent sound and said, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes, sir.’” His free hand slid into the waistband of my satin shorts, and his fingertips found my pussy, delving at the apex of my thighs to stroke at the heat and gathering wetness there.
“Oh, I like that very much,” he murmured, and he started stroking me slowly, working me up, drawing the wetness from my opening up and around my clit.
I made sounds behind his hand, and felt almost as though I couldn’t get enough breath through just my nose, but he seemed to like it that way, his fingers pressing against my tender flesh, making a circular motion that he knew would drive me absolutelywild.
I wrapped my hands around his wrist, but he wouldn’t take his hand away. I made pleading begging moans behind it, and he just smiled harder, his teeth white in the dark, a Cheshire cat’s smile.
“Mm-mm,” he said. “I have you right where I want you.”
I panted, and writhed against the sheets, and he was relentless with his sweet tortures, working my clit expertly, my body his instrument, a symphony he played just to himself and the captive audience of one that I was at his hands.
He eventually took his hand away from my mouth, and I cried out his name; “Corvus!”
He traded having his hand over my mouth to holding me down by my throat. Not choking, not cutting off my air or the blood flow to my brain, just pressing, just enough to let me know that he could if he wanted to; that I was thoroughly at his mercy and whatever dark and twisted desire lay at the heart of him.
“That’s it, baby, sing for me, sing my name,” he urged, and I cried out as I shattered completely in his hands. I writhed, my body convulsing on wave after wave of pleasure as he laughed in triumph, that rich raucous sound like a murder of crows – at which point I reallydidwake up, to my own hand at my pussy and my own hand at my throat, and the real Corvus leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs down to the living room.
I shrieked and jumped up onto my knees on the bed, half-assedly covering myself with the blankets and clutching them to my chest as he laughed and applauded me.
“That was wholly unexpected and quite the fucking show, Kitten!” he cried as I tried valiantly to swallow my heart back down into my throat.
“What are youdoing?” I demanded.
“I didn’t intend to wake you or to interrupt. I just… hm,” he hung his head, hands buried deep in his pockets and I glanced at the glowing numbers on the bedside clock. It was a little after midnight, pushing half past the hour but not quite there.
I swallowed hard and looked at him.
He was still dressed in his slacks from that morning, and I recalled the expensive Armani suit he’d worn. His jacket was gone, as was his tie, but the sleeves of his tailored to fit dress shirt were rolled back over his forearms and he looked…tired.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, and I held out a hand to him, beseeching him to come sit by patting the bed beside me.
He pushed off the wall and meandered over, taking a seat beside me, putting an arm over my waist, and leaning in for a kiss, which I gave him.
“I missed you today,” he whispered against my lips.
“Missed me?” I asked softly, and searched his eyes in a room that was much brighter than the one from my dream, the shadowed blue light of the moon pouring in through the windows along the exposed brick wall on either side of the room.
“That doesn’t sound likeno strings attached,friends with benefits, or whatever you would call us,” I said when the silence had pooled between us for too long.
“I think it may be time to upgrade you to the girlfriend package,” he murmured, tracing a finger along my hairline, tucking a long length of it behind my ear.
“And what comes with that package?” I asked with a faint smile, because honestly, that sounded really good.
“Well, we still maintain our own spaces, for now. I’m not exactly sure that I make for the best boyfriend material. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah?” I asked softly. “How long?”
“Twenty years give or take,” he said.
“What? Why so long?” I asked.
He was silent, and dropped his eyes to my hand, pressed against the bed by my hip, tracing a fingertip over my left ring finger.
