The old Cosima would have laughed in his face at the question. Alphas asking permission? Unheard of. But it seems natural, coming from him.
I answer by closing the distance between us, pressing my lips to his.
He tastes sweet, like the fruit we had earlier, with an undercurrent of something headier. His kiss is hesitant at first, as if he's still not convinced this is real. Then, as I thread my fingers into his hair and pull him closer, he melts against me with a soft groan.
His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb stroking gently along my cheekbone as he deepens the kiss. There's a hunger in the way he claims my mouth that makes me squirm, but the reverence is something else. Something deeper that scares the hell out of me.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide with lust. "Cosima, before we—there's something I should probably warn you about."
I pause, my fingers still tangled in his golden hair. "What?"
He bites his lower lip, a rare show of uncertainty. "I told you before I'm not exactly a conventional alpha."
"Is this about you sleeping with other alphas? Because I really don't give a shit."
I just assumed he was sleeping with Geo, and he clearly shares a past with Nikolai, as loathe as either of them is to admit it. The thought is more appealing than I want it to be, especially considering how insane the latter alpha drives me.
But I suppose finding Nikolai more appealing than we probably should is yet another thing Raven and I have in common.
"It's not just that," he whispers. "It's?—"
I cut him off with another kiss, harder this time. "I don't care," I murmur against his lips. "Whatever it is, I don't care."
And surprisingly, I don't. After everything I've been through—being sold by my father, escaping Monty, being kidnapped, discovering Azarel's betrayal—what could possibly matter about Raven's unconventional nature? He's been nothing but honest from the start about everything else. If there is something he's been holding back, I assume he has a reason, and it's not one that matters at this moment.
That kiss seems to break something in him. The careful restraint he's been maintaining crumbles as he presses me back against the cushions, his body covering mine as his mouth traces a line of fire down my throat.
"So beautiful," he whispers against my collarbone. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this. Wanted you."
His hands work at the sash of my robe, gently parting the silky fabric to reveal my skin beneath. I worry briefly about the others. Are they really asleep? Will this wake them? But the thought disappears as Raven's lips continue their downward journey.
"Is this okay?" he asks, pausing at the curve of my breast, his breath hot against my sensitive skin.
I nod, not trusting my voice. He takes my nipple into his mouth, and the sensation shoots straight through me, drawing a gasp I'm barely able to muffle with my hand. His tongue swirls, teeth grazing just enough to send little sparks dancing along my nerves.
"Gods," I breathe as he lavishes attention on my other breast. "That feels?—"
"Good?" he supplies, glancing up with a wicked smile. "I'm just getting started."
He continues moving down my body, pressing feather-light kisses across my ribs, the soft curve of my stomach, the jut of my hipbones. Each touch is reverent, worshipful, so unlike the demanding hands I've known before.
When he reaches the apex of my thighs, he pauses, looking up at me with eyes glazed with hunger. His thumbs stroke gently along my inner thighs, parting them with silent question.
"May I?" he asks, his voice rough with want.
I blink in surprise. Most alphas would have already taken what they wanted by now. Hell, at this point,Iwant him to take. To stop being so damn careful with me. But there's something appealing about that care at the same time. Being touched like I'm at once a priceless artifact, and the owner.
"Yes," I whisper, spreading my legs wider to accommodate him. "Please."
He settles between my thighs, and I brace myself for the usual routine most alphas pat themselves on the back for. A cursory effort at best, just enough to ease his way for what he really wants. Knight is different, but that difference extends to all facets of him, not just who he is in the nest.
Instead, Raven lowers his head and licks a slow, deliberate stripe through my folds.
"Oh!" I gasp, arching despite myself.
He glances up at me, a desperate, ravenous look in his blue eyes. "You taste even better than I imagined," he murmurs, and dives back in like a man starved.
His tongue is...fuck. His tongue is incredible. He works me with expertise that suggests far more experience than I want to think about right now, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention to my clit. His movements are deliberate, precise, like he's memorizing every fold with his mouth. I bite down hard on my knuckles to keep from crying out.
