It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn't even a claiming. Because she was already his. No, this kiss was an assertion. A period at the end of a declarative statement.
Graham's mouth crushed against hers with a hunger so fierce it felt like flame erupting through her chest. Raveena gasped into it, then melted. She pressed back, matching his fire with ice of her own. She tangled her fingers in his hair, dragged him closer, opened her mouth, and devoured him like she had been dying of thirst for the last three years.
Because she had.
Every night without him had been airless, dry, aching. Every kiss before him had tasted like ash. But this—This was everything.
She pulled him deeper, angling her mouth to take more, to taste him fully, as if she could swallow his breath and fuse him back into her skin. Graham let her ravage him—let her be greedy, wild, reckless—and then he gave it right back. Teeth, tongue, lips—his kiss was savage and merciless and utterly him.
He gripped her waist, turned, and shoved her back. The mattress caught her.
She bounced. Her hair fanned around her face. Her lips parted from the kiss that hadn’t ended so much as detonated.
Raveena gasped—and then smiled. That slow, dangerous smile she only gave him. Because Graham knew. He knew how to touch her, how to push her. How to take all the cold iron she wore like armor and heat it.
She’d trusted no one—not with her body, not with her crown, not with her soul.
Except him.
Because he knew what she needed.
To hurt. Just a little.
Not to be punished. But to feel. For a woman born of winter and crowned in frost, pain was the only thing sharp enough to pierce the numbness.
Her legs fell open in invitation, gown tangled at her thighs. She met his gaze with fire licking at the edges of her smile.
“Take me,” she said, voice rough with breath and need.
"You're nowhere near wet enough for me. Fix that. Now."
She knew what he wanted. She reached under her dress and hooked her thumbs in the band of her panties. She didn't give him a show, didn't pull them down slow and seductively. Raveena was too impatient to get her prize.
She ripped the panties off. Discarded the fabric onto the floor. Then she touched herself.
Around and around her index and middle finger went. Circling her clit. Tugging at her labials. Dipping into the center of her sex.
She didn't need finesse to make herself come. She just needed his gaze on her. The command in his eyes was enough to push her over the edge. Raveena came in under five minutes.
"Good girl. Do it again."
She whimpered, but she didn't argue. She knew her Graham. He would not be moved until he was satisfied. And he was a bigboy. It was a fair point that she needed to be good and wet when he took her.
"If you add your tongue, I'll be ready faster."
"Did I ask for your opinion, Ray? Get those lazy fingers back to work. If I take you now, I'll hurt you."
"I want it to hurt a little."
Graham cupped the big tent in his pants. "It'll hurt a lot."
She grinned, throwing her head back as she pumped her fingers in and out of herself as rough as she could make it. It wasn't rough enough. "I've been using my fingers for three years, pretending they were yours. But they're not thick enough. Not blunt enough. There are no calluses. Just the thought of you crooking your index finger is enough to get me off. I'd be sitting on my throne, with my court assembled around me, and I'd imagine I'd see you in the shadows of the halls, beckoning me with that finger, and I'd have to press my thighs to—ah!"
The rough hands she had been dreaming about grabbed her thighs. Graham turned her over. Her front bounced once on the mattress. The palm of his hand came to her back and pressed her roughly into the bedding. Her dress was rucked up, her ass exposed to him.
Raveena heard the rustle of fabric. She felt the heat of his thick cock against her ass cheeks. If he took her in her rear entrance without any preparation, that would surely hurt. But she'd take it. She'd take him any way she could get him.
Graham didn't press his cock into her ass. He spread her core apart, aimed for her entrance, and struck true.
