Page 42 of A Raven Repents

As he slid one finger into her body, it certainly felt incredible to him. She was hot and wet, her walls hugging him. His mind immediately imagined what it would be like for other parts of him to be sliding into her.

“I don’t ever want it to stop.” She groaned as he pushed deeper and circled his thumb over her.

“Not even if I move on to something better?”

“You couldn’t possibly do something better.”

“Challenge accepted.” He suckled each nipple, until she was writhing and desperate, before kissing his way down her stomach and over her hip, still thrusting his finger slowly in and out of her body. He teased the skin of her thigh with the tip of his tongue. “The wider you spread your legs, the more I’ll know you want it. Show me.”

She didn’t hesitate for a second, opening herself, even pulling her knees up. Dear God. He desperately wanted to plunge himself into her, but first, he would use his tongue to make her lose track of which way was up.

He barely flicked it over her and she called out his name, nearly sending him over the edge, himself. How was he so close already? Gently, he suckled, savoring her intoxicating aroma and the taste of her on his tongue. Her hips began to rock and he added a second finger. She was tight, but lusciously welcoming. Everything about her was utterly delectable.

Her thighs shook and she sank her fingers into his hair, pulling him more tightly against her swollen flesh. Somehow, she opened her legs even wider, pressing herself against his mouth. How she trusted him with this, he couldn’t fathom, but he gave thanks to whichever saint made it possible. This was exquisite. She was exquisite. The glorious sounds spilling from her grew increasingly desperate, each one pushing his own desire another step higher.

Finally, she yelled his name, her back arching, her body squeezing his fingers. He wrapped an arm around her thigh, holding her in place so he could enjoy his feast until she began to calm. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He was so close, himself. He kicked off his trousers.

Moving over the top of her, he pushed himself home.

“Ow!”

He froze. His lust, heart, and lungs, all stopping with him. That was not a cry of pleasure. “Ow?”

He cupped her cheek and she nodded against his hand, holding her breath from the pain. “No. No, no, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t know… I should have known.” He cursed. His mother had even warned him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh. It’s alright.”

“It’s not, but are you?”

She nodded again. “The pain is easing now.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

He felt her cheek lift with a smile. “Did you just call me sweetheart?”

“Under the circumstances, Mrs. Henderson felt a bit too formal.”

She laughed softly, but a tear landed against his finger. “Damnit. Damn me. I’m sorry.” How had he managed to hurt her even in this? “I feel like a brute. I knew it could hurt the first time, but I just thought, as long as you were eager for it, it would be fine.”

“I was eager for it. I still am, in fact, so keep going.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you even more.”

She gripped her fingers into his hair. “I said, keep going.”

“Audaciously confident, even in the face of pain. How could I say no?”

Hesitantly, he pulled back and pushed into her again, more gently this time. Her fingers left his hair, holding onto his shoulders instead. He reached between them and massaged her breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple. Finally, a moan of pleasure. Her body eased for him, and she wrapped her legs around him, encouraging his movements.

So passionate. So vocal in her enjoyment, her sounds of growing urgency filling the room. The fear of hurting her again kept him moving slowly, even when his body was begging him to go harder and faster. Not that the pleasure was diminished any. It was a miracle that he managed to hold on until she reached her peak again. His name from her lips as her body contracted around him pushed him straight into oblivion. Nothing else existed in that moment.

As the fog of euphoria lifted, he pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead, wishing he could see her eyes. “Are you alright, Mrs. Henderson?”

Her laugh was breathless. “No. I’m afraid you have rather addled my wits.”

He collapsed beside her and pulled her into his embrace. How was she the same woman he’d despised for trapping him? He’d been a bloody fool. She was perfect. Beautiful, sweet, and passionate. And even after all he’d done, she trusted him, at least with her body, which was more than he deserved. Suddenly, he found himself quite grateful that she was his. Now, he just had to make her want that too, so she would never run from him again.

Lying in sated bliss, Christina felt something she never imagined she could with her husband. Something she was not sure she’d ever felt before. Wrapped in his arms, his warm skin pressed against her back, she felt safe. Felt protected. How was that even possible?