Just as he said, he slowly dips the tip of his cock inside me, flirting with my entrance, which only makes me want it more.Moaning through the building desire, I arch my back and push myself forwards.
There’s a reflection on his chest from the moonlight pouring in through the window, and it makes his skin shimmer, his body rippling with every movement, the tattooed raven looking like it’s in flight. He’s something to behold, holding his cock in his hand, my legs spread wide while he guides it seductively inside me.
“Valdemar,” I gasp, the necessity growing, the urgency to have him taking over my common sense, my animalistic needs holding the reins.
“You want it all, don’t you? You want all of me inside you,” he growls.
“Yes.” Another truth.
“I would never deny you, angel.” Slamming his hands onto the desk on either side of my body, he thrusts himself in deep, taking my breath away.
Quickly, he grabs one of my legs and wraps it around his back. I follow with the other, hooking my ankles to anchor him to me.
“Sit up. Put your arms around my neck.” He’s pounding into me, thrust after thrust. The heat from his body mingles with my own, his neck damp with sweat as I claw my nails into his skin. “Hold on, angel.”
I interlace my fingers, and his pace quickens, the pleasure mounting. He unlocks my legs, spreading them wider, pushing down on the insides of my thighs so he can hit me deeper. I cling on to him, and my eyes threaten to close, my teeth clenching as my orgasm builds.
“Oh God.” My mouth is drying out, and the air in the room suddenly feels scant. My breaths become short, frantic. It’s getting harder to keep my hands locked around his neck.
“Lie down,” he tells me, one hand going to my throat, the other to my clit, and I’m spinning, my eyes losing focus as a blinding orgasm rages through my body.
“Valdemar.” His name is out before I can stop it, his cock swelling as my insides clench it tighter before he comes with such force, I’m left breathless.
For several minutes, we remain still, and all that can be heard is the gasping of our breaths, our bodies returning to their normal, resting state.
Though I’m not sure my body will ever return to its natural state.
Still inside me, Valdemar pulls me up by my arms and wraps them around his neck. Grasping my head, he forces me to look at him before planting tiny kisses on my forehead. “You’ve no idea what you’ve just done to me,” he says.
I’m still floating on euphoria, drunk on pleasure, my body swaying against his hold, and I have no response for what he’s just declared.
Sensing my need for silence, he fishes in his pocket for a tissue, his trousers hanging onto his hips, then slips out of me and wipes himself before cleaning me up and loosely resecuring his belt. He grabs his shirt and wraps it around my body, guiding my arms through the sleeves. He then picks me up and carries me to a door in the far corner of the room.
Once again, I’m clinging to him, my arms around the back of his neck, my head resting against his chest, and a different warmth spreads through me—the same warmth that invaded me the day of the fight.
With great dexterity, he opens the door and carries me down a long corridor, fleeting glances of panelled walls and dado rails skimming past my vision.
I can’t help but marvel at his strength when I feel like I’m the one who’s run a marathon as he carries me up a flight of stairsand down another corridor. We eventually reach a door that he pushes open with his foot and then kicks closed behind us.
A fresh scent hits me, like a forest after a heavy downpour. He places me on a large four-poster bed covered in dark grey sheets. After the hardness of the desk, I feel like I’m lying on a cloud, my back sinking into the softness of the mattress.
Large windows line the right-hand wall, and the heavy drapes are open, leaving the room drenched in moonlight.
Valdemar perches on the side of the bed, taking in my depleted body. “Do you need to rest?”
“Before we go back to the party?” I ask.
The shrill tone in my reply has done nothing to hide the fact that the party is the last place I want to go. I can’t bear the thought of facing those stares again, let alone what they’ll look like, knowing what Valdemar and I must’ve been doing, as my hair is dishevelled, my lipstick non-existent, and I can imagine my eyes look like black holes with my mascara having smudged due to them watering. Either that, or they’ll think he’s tortured me into confessing my desire to kill him.
“Fuck the party.”
“But it’s for you,” I say.
“No, it isn’t.” Sensing my confusion, he continues. “It’s an excuse for the Raven Hands to invade my home, drink my wine, and get shitfaced.”
“Sounds like a party to me.”
“A party is when you celebrate something. What exactly are they celebrating?” he says.
