Page 21 of The Prophecy
Chapter Nine
Oh my God.
Raven had never seen anything quite so beautiful in her entire life. His body was perfect, lean but with the sleek ripple of muscle under golden skin. His erection arched away from his flat belly, thick and powerful. It twitched under her intense stare, and her mouth went dry. She tried to swallow, but the muscles in her throat constricted.
“Like what you see?”
At his question, her gaze darted to his. He was watching her watch him. She nodded mutely, and a look of fierce satisfaction flashed across his face.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he murmured. “Come here.”
She rose slowly to her feet, her gaze never leaving his as his hands smoothed down her arms, sending shivers rippling through her. He tugged her tank top out of her jeans, then over her head in one smooth move. His gaze dropped, and she held her breath.
Did he like what he saw?
Her nipples tightened under his stare, as his hands moved to her waist, thumbs rubbing circles on her rib cage, sending tingles down her nerves. He unfastened her jeans, sliding his hands inside, pushing them down over her hips, and she wriggled out of them.
And she was as naked as he was.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
One finger trailed over her collar bone, then lower, cupping her breast, and pleasure streaked through her, settling low in her body. His hands shifted to her hips and he picked her up, settling her on the cool wood of the desk behind her.
He traced a finger along the mark above her left hip bone. It was black, stark against the paleness of her skin, and shaped like a bird, wings outstretched. Her father had told her it marked her as a daughter of the Morrigan. All the witches carried the birthmark.
Then he stroked the skin of her thighs, his long fingers slipping between to push them apart, so he could move closer. Heat radiated from his body, and she breathed in the hot scent of the sweat starting to gild his golden skin. His hands glided up her body, trailing fire over her belly and breasts before they finally rested in her hair. He tilted her face to him and then leaned down to kiss her, hungry, biting kisses, until she opened her mouth and his tongue thrust deep inside. He tasted hot and sweet, reminding her of the blood she had drunk days ago. The thought made her tremble.
He leaned back and stared down into her face.
“Tell me what you want.”
Frustration flashed through her. She didn’t know what she wanted; how could she? All she knew was she wanted it all.
“Everything,” she said. “I want everything.”
He laughed softly. Reaching behind her, he swept the desk clean, his gun and knife clattering to the floor. Then he pushed her gently, so she fell back against the hard wood.
“Let me show you how it can be.”
Leaning over her, arms braced on either side, he kissed her breasts, his tongue teasing her with lazy, wet circles until her back arched. She gasped as he bit down on her nipple, then drew it into his mouth, suckling so it tugged at places deep within her body, sharp bolts of pleasure shooting through her.
Her body shook. She wanted to touch him, stroke him, kiss him, but in this position, she couldn’t reach, and she writhed under his touch.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Just relax, take it slowly.”
Was he mad? “I can’t,” she muttered, gritting her teeth.
He straightened, stared down at her through hooded eyes then slowly splayed one hand over the soft flesh of her stomach, teasing the dark curls at the junction of her thighs, stopping just short of touching her where she needed it most. Then he smiled, a feral smile. “You’ve got no choice.”
Like hell she had no choice! It seemed as though all her life she hadn’t had a choice. Now she did, and she didn’t want it slow. She wanted him hard and fast and as out of control as she felt.
She lay before him, quiescent, staring up into the blueness of his eyes, her own narrowed while she considered her options.
Then she stretched sinuously beneath him. Reaching out, she twined her fingers in the soft fur of his abdomen, trailed them down lower until she teased him with her fingertips. She raised one long slender leg, wrapped it around him and pulled him to her so he was hard against her sex, and she moved erotically, grinding her hips against the length of him.
He groaned, and she purred in satisfaction. His hand moved between them, gliding down her body, between her thighs. He groaned again as his fingers slid into the hot slippery wetness, moving slowly over her swollen flesh, tingles shooting through her, stroking, gently probing, opening her. Poised above her, his erection pushed at the entrance to her body. His hands moved to clasp her hips, steadying her. Then he pushed inside, stretching her. He was huge, and she bit back a whimper of pain-tinged pleasure. Pausing, he stared down into her face, his own contorted with concentration.
“More?” he questioned.
