Page 20 of A Court of Ravens
“I don’t need words to tell you what I want, love.”
She shivers. A full-body tremor. Then she stands on her toes, brushing her lips along the shell of my ear. Her teeth catch for a heartbeat before she whispers, “Good. Because I don’t need words either.”
Fuck.
I press her against the nearest wall, caging her in with my body. My lips graze her throat, hot breath, sharp teeth, slow, teasing.
“You want to be craved,” I murmur, drinking in the way she trembles. “To be the reason a man loses control.”
She exhales a soft, shuddering breath.
I smile against her pulse.
She grabs my jaw, dragging my mouth back to hers. “Then shut up and show me.”
Fuck, I love a woman who gives orders. It’s a good thing I love breaking them even more. I lift her, pin her, claim her.
She gasps, grips my hair, and tightens her legs around me like spurs.
I toss her onto the bed. She bounces once, hair fanning out like a dark halo, a fucking goddess laid out for me.
I pause. Hover over her, my hands braced on either side of her head.
Her lips part. Her eyes hold mine. Then she smiles. Wicked. Wanting.
I reach for the drawer beside the bed, fumbling for the foil packet Tomas insisted I use.“Do it right,”he’d said.“Humans have rituals, too.”
Before I can grab it, her hand closes over mine.
“You don’t have to,” she murmurs.
I freeze. My body is on fire, strung tight, but my brain kicks back into gear at her words.
Her gaze is steady. “I can’t have kids. You’re clean, right?”
Everything in me stills. Tomas drilled safe sex into my head like a battle strategy, but nothing prepared me for this.
“How do you know?”
Her brow furrows. “Fibroids. My doctor said it’s unlikely.”
Unlikely.A fragile human word. A false certainty wrapped in medicine and absolutes.
My jaw clenches. “Unlikely isn’t impossible.”
Her lips press into a thin line. “University. Years. And nothing ever happened.”
Her voice is steady, but the weight behind it sits heavy between us. No children. No risk.
It should feel like an escape, a free pass from the noose fate tied around my neck. Instead, it coils tighter. I don’t know what I was expecting. A slap of reality, maybe. Some kind of warning to slow down.
Instead, she reaches for me—fingers trailing over my jaw, down my chest, right over the frantic thrum of my heart. Her nails curl against my skin, the faint drag of them like fire licking up my spine.
“This is madness,” I murmur.
She tilts her head, lips curving in a smile so sinful that it could make the devil jealous.
“Madness,” she breathes, voice a dangerous caress, “feels an awful lot like this.”
