Page 77 of Raven's Dawn

When that kiss softened, he kissed me again, stronger than the last. It wasn’t a rough, aggressive kiss, but the way his hand drifted down my waist told me everything. He wanted to make it up to me.

And I wasn’t opposed to it. Most of the time, I wasn’t opposed to sex. But it was always special with Graham in a unique way. Even when it was hungry, filthy, it was never aggressive or rough.

As his fingers traced over my body, lifting up my skirt, a current of comfort and safety trickled over me. It was like every place he touched—my thigh, my breast, even my clit—was consecrated with familiarity. Like his fingers contained a spell that carried a net of coziness.

Eyes open, meeting his, our breaths quickened. His eyes glowed like stars in the sky when he danced a finger from my opening to my clit. Ever so slightly, he raised the temperature of his flesh.

I gasped at the change, coiling closer into him.

He smiled.

He sped up, moving his fingertips faster, applying more pressure. When I gasped and moaned, he chuckled, but he didn’t stop.

That was the thing about us. No matter how familiar, it was never boring. The safety, the comfort of his touch, may have been one I’d felt a thousand times, but it almost felt like coming home.

I’d always heard people say that sex was so much better in the beginning and it got worse with time in a relationship. In a few of mine, that had been true. But not with Graham. Not with Warren and Ezra either.

Love, romance, sex—they weren’t so wonderful because of the excitement, the rush, that came in the beginning. Until finding this man before me, and the other ones I had now, I hadn’t understood that. I thought they were right. That no matter what, as time went on, so did the quality of the sex you had with someone.

But as Graham played with that temperature against my clit, rubbing faster, harder, he whispered, “How’s that feel, mo stoirín?”

And the truth was… “Amazing.”

Because it was. Because the passion in the beginning could never compare to this. The bond, the familiarity, and the sanctuary his hands provided.

This was the true meaning of romance. Not to only share your body with someone, but to trust them with it completely. To know that they never wish to harm you, to know that your well-being was their well-being and vice versa.

I reached down to his flowy pants, but he shook his head, smiling.

“This is for you,” he said, replacing his fingertips with his thumb. He dropped his finger into me, grasped a hold of my front wall, and massaged at the most impeccable pace.

My head rolled back, overtaken with bliss. It had only been a couple minutes, and I was already approaching my brink.

“I want to watch you come for me,” he whispered, straightening so he could see better. We’d been on our sides, facing one another, and somewhere along the way, he’d rolled me onto my back. Knees up, legs spread, he had the perfect view of everything he was doing to me. “I want to make you feel as good as I do just knowing that you could grant me the privilege of touching you here.”

“Oh my gods,” I murmured, trying desperately to keep my voice low. At home, I screamed as loud as I wanted, but that didn’t feel like the appropriate thing to do in a castle that wasn’t mine. “That feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He kept the exact same pace, massaging my front wall so hard, so fast, that I swore I was going to explode. “You’re such a good girl, you deserve it.”

And there it was.

My vision blackened around the edges. Stars shined against my eyes. It was so intense, so hard, that my head even throbbed a bit. In the best way, of course.

A flood of pleasure seeped from me, perhaps in a wave of the most intense sensations I’d ever felt. I grasped a hold of his forearm for stability, biting my lip to keep the squeals of satisfaction inside.

As the contractions slowed, so did his pace. He smiled down at me, came in for a kiss, and stayed there a while. Trailing his tongue along my bottom lip, his hand found my breast. He squeezed, but his touch was soft. Even when he grabbed my nipple, pinching it lightly between his thumb and forefinger, twisting slightly.

“That was so sexy,” he murmured against my lips. “Not at all cute.”

Quietly, I laughed. “Oh, not at—” I gasped.

I hadn’t even realized he’d taken his pants off, but now he was thrusting into me, and I couldn’t think straight.

“Stunning.” He kissed my cheek. “Gorgeous.” A kiss on my neck. “Sexy.” He slammed into me so hard that I swore I felt him in my stomach. A bit of pain mixed into that pleasure, but I was not complaining. “I’ve gotta see it again.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said between heaving gasps.

“It’s my favorite thing in the world, you know,” he whispered, grinding his pelvis against my clit. “In all the worlds, truly.” Graham’s lips trailed from my neck to my breast. He kissed my nipple, whispering against it, “Watching you so turned on, coming all over the place…” A low growl sounded in the back of his throat. He took my nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue up and down at the perfect rhythm, synchronized with his thrusts deep into me. “My gods, the way your pussy looks with my cock in it?” He ground in harder, faster, moaning as he licked and sucked. “There’s only one thing sexier.”