Flock (The Ravenhood Book 1)

by Kate Stewart

I let out a welcoming shriek as he digs in with precise licks, nothing behind them but wicked intent. Writhing on the blanket, I let out an arsenal of curses as he slips a finger in, crooking it along my G.

He laps me up, stealing my ability to communicate, my shaking legs draped on either side of his head. Hazel eyes peer up at me as I grip the blanket in my hands and squirm due to the workings of his magic mouth. He licks me furiously as I buck in response, heart hammering, covered in a sheen of sweat. He rubs his fingers along my walls, teasing, torturing, before shoving them into me in beckoning. I explode, convulsing as I lose myself, calling his name as he jackhammers his tongue along my clit. He continues to lick as I shudder until I’m begging for him to stop, too sensitive for any more. And despite my tightening thighs around his head, he sucks my folds into his mouth, taking in every last drop of my orgasm. It’s filthy and perfect, and when he lifts himself up to kiss me, I lick his mouth, sucking his tongue with fervor. I run my hand along the length in his shorts, feeling his reaction. Dipping my hand in, I glide my fingers along his taut stomach and moan when I discover a smear of precum. He wants me just as much, and it shows as I wrap my hand around his impressive length for only a second before he lowers his body, denying me access. Satiated but intent on more, I stare up at him with the longing I feel.

“What were your parents like?” I’ve never asked about them before. Not even when I was younger. Even when I had my youth to fall back on for false bravery, I knew better than to ask. They were both deceased, that’s the extent of what both Mom and I know. Roman draws a perfect bite of pasta onto his fork. “What specifically do you want to know?” “Were they as outgoing as you?” His jaw clenches and I congratulate myself but steady my features. “They were socialites, and my father kept regular attendance at the golf course.” “How did they die?” “They drank.” “Poison? They go out in a Shakespearean way?” “You find death amusing?” “No, Sir.” I find this conversation amusing.

“He’s different, I’m telling you.” “Well, just rip the Band-Aid off now. If he goes psycho, at least you find out now, rather than later.”

If a man seems too good to be true, he usually is a liar.

“Fuck, I look good on you.” He lifts the glasses resting on my nose and presses his forehead to mine.

catchin’ feelings for me, Pup?” All I can do is give him the same honesty. “Yes, of course I am. We . . . I was hoping . . . I don’t know.” “That’s right, we don’t, so let’s not go around getting offended and slinging drama where it isn’t needed. You want to trust me, but you’re not letting yourself, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I can tell you every day you’re safe with me, but unless you believe it, it’s pointless. And for the record, I caught feelings the minute I laid eyes on you.”

“It’s okay to want his dick, baby, I’ll watch it go inside you and fucking love the view, and the savage it’ll make me.”

This kiss goes deeper as our chests touch, and my breasts graze his solid wall of muscle as he groans into my mouth. This kiss is filled with unexpected passion and longing and seems endless. I can’t, even knowing Sean is watching, rip myself away. Tongues tangle, hands roam, we explore hungrily. When we part, our fast breaths mingle, revelation dancing in both our eyes. I feel like he can see mine, and I know his mirrors it. His touch, his presence, his kiss is like being surrounded by a cool, dark cloud—one I’m dwelling comfortably in.