Page 70 of A Murderous Crow
“What happened to ‘just sex’and ‘don’t get attached?’”she demanded.
“I only have one answer for that,” I said with a small grin. “You’re a witch, and you’ve bewitched me.”
She choked on a laugh, and we stared at one another for a long time. Both of us burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.
She pulled me in and we kissed, and a joy that I thought had been long dead burst in my chest and sent sparks through my veins.
She pulled her shorts and panties down, wriggling beguilingly beneath me, and I didn’t hesitate. I folded her back knees, to chest and got myself inside her, groaning at how tight and how wet she was to take me.
“Condom!” she gasped and I pulled out.
“Shit, right! I’m sorry, I just got caught up.” I reached into the drawer and got one, and while I got it on, she got out of her clothes and we clashed, coming together like two weather systems and it waselectric.
I held her tight, and moved with a purpose and a surety and was rewarded with her arms twinging around my neck, and her legs around my hips. She forced my head to hers, her fingers tangling and gripping my hair as she kissed me fiercely, and I returned the kiss with everything that I had to give her.
I was desperately trying to hold on to my heart, but her soft hands and even softer little moans were doing a damn good job at chipping through the layer of ice around it.
What wasn’t to love about her, now that all pretenses had been stripped away? She was beautiful, not just in looks, but in heart, mind, and soul. Try as I might to not get sucked in, it was difficult. Impossible even. She was tenderhearted and her touch drove me wild, her scent had me drowning in her, and the way she kissed me? It was with a desperation borne of a need to be loved, andfuckI was trying so hard not to go down that road again for myself.
She was the first woman to ever even come close since…fuck!Her body squeezed down on my cock and I found it hard to thrust as hard and as evenly as I had before. She was close —so close —and I was fighting to hold off by this point. The pleasure was a deep pool of warmth, spilling over and through me, mounting higher and higher, threatening to spill over the careful dam I’d built around my heart in this rising tide of emotion that I just couldn’t fucking ignore if I’d wanted to.
I couldn’t believe what I’d walked into last night. I’d thought she’d lived in the big house that Requiem had sent me pictures of. Not the small, falling apart shed outbuilding behind the equally crumbling and sagging garage.
I gripped twin fistfuls of her hair and pulled her head back, driving into her roughly, as my possessive nature reared its ugly head. She cried out, and dug nails into my shoulders and upper arms and I welcomed the sharp, sweet bite of them.
“Fuck, yeah, baby girl. Come for me,” I ordered her in a low growl and I smiled at the feral whining cry that emanated from her as she bucked against me, slipping one hand between us to worry at her clit to make my desire a reality.
I fuckinglovedwatching her come apart for me, and this time was no exception. She shuddered, crying out, her pussy rhythmically gripping and releasing me and it was all I needed. I felt that hyper quick build and the crescendo was pure fuckingmagicas I throbbed, my cock jettisoning my release into the condom I wore, hot and sticky, making things unimaginably slick and I wanted that feeling to last for fucking ever, so I didn’t stop – I couldn’t, thrusting in and out of her at a slower and more sedate pace. Dragging things out for as long as I could until we both found ourselves limp and glowing in each other’s arms.
We lingered, languishing in the afterglow of the sweet torture that was our intense morning fuck, and she asked me, her voice trembling finely with a fear of letting it out into the ether, “Would it be so terrible? To love me, and be only with me?”
I kissed her forehead and sighed, holding her close, treading carefully with my words…
“No, it’s not,” I said carefully. “It’s not at all…”
I don’t know if she caught it, what I was telling her, and she hugged me tightly and I her, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. Not yet, and I felt like the biggest fucking coward for leaving it there, vague, and vaguely impersonal at that.
She deserved better than that from me. I just wasn’t ready to do it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Savannah…
“Savannah!” I jumped, and looked up from where I had been staring at my laptop screen, frozen, without reallyseeingit.
“I’m sorry,” I shook my head. “What is it?”
Fabian lookedgenuinelyconcerned for me.
“Girl, what iswrongwith you today? This isn’t like you.” He took the seat across from my desk, crossing his legs and putting his notepad in his lap, snapping its leather folio shut and staring at me pointedly and I could see the come-to-Jesus meeting was nigh, even if Jesus wasn’t the religious figure in our case, per se; but more like some cute-as-hell little Cuban gay boy ready to serve up some sangria for thechismeabout to be served to our little get-together… That’s gossip, for the uninformed.
I sighed and sat back in my chair, and searched Fabian’s face.
“Corbett Prescott,” I said and I worried over his reaction to the name.
“What’s he done this time?” he asked, and he snapped his folio back open and I took that to mean he thought I was ten million miles away overwork…
I shook my head.
