1. Raven

Chapter one

Raven

Twenty-Four Hours Before The Kidnapping

“What?!” Harper, my best friend and colleague, shrieks so loud that I have to cover both ears with my index fingers.

I’d only just told her I wasn’t interested in attending the hospital’s fundraising event. I’d rather stay home and read a book.

It’s our day off. Why would I not want to stay home?

“You can’t be serious right now.” Thankfully, her voice goes back to its normal pitch. “It’s the hospital’s fundraiser party. You have to go.”

“I don’t have to do anything. Quit being so dramatic.” I eye the book on my nightstand.

Harper grabs it before I can and hauls it into a corner. “Oh, come on.”

“You work all day, every day, in that damned hospital,” she says as she rummages through my closet. “If there’s anyone who should be at that party, it’s you.”

When Harper turns to me again, there’s a glittery white dress held against her frame. “Picture yourself in this, hugging your figure in all the right places…”

“Don’t start.”

“... you walk in through the doors, and all eyes turn to you,” Harper continues. I can only roll my eyes at her theatrical performance. “Women glare at you out of jealousy, men practically fall at your feet…”

“No, they won’t. Do you want to know why? Because I’m not going.”

It’s a wrong move for her to point out the attention I’d get if I wore that dress. I despise being in the spotlight. Harper knows that.

She smiles and joins me on the bed. “A huge part of being an adult means you have to leave your shell once in a while. Meet new people. Ever since Carlos left…”

I let out a long, agonizing groan. “You really had to remind me.”

“I’m trying to help you here. I care about you, Raven. I’ve watched you over the past year act like everything is fine and bury yourself in nothing but work. That’s not healthy.”

She’s right. I hate that she’s right. Despite us having no physical similarities, I consider Harper my sister. My soul sister.

She’s been with me through thick and thin from the moment my dad left when I was eighteen. It happened during my first year of college. I have no idea where he is now, but I can’t forget him. Not a day goes by without me thinking about him. He was my hero… I still wonder why he left…several years later and it still hurts.

Harper takes both of my hands and squeezes them.

“Just let go of it all. Carlos, your dad. Screw them.”

Easier said than done, really.

“I don’t blame Carlos for leaving. Or even my dad.” I sigh.

Each time I think about it, I can't help but count the losses. It makes me wonder who else will leave. Maybe it’s part of the reason I don’t bother with outings. Friends, too.

Harper is the only family I have, and I'm comfortable with that.

“If you keep being held down by the past there's no moving forward,” Harper sighs. She sits on the bed beside me. “I can't be happy knowing my best friend is… is like this.”

My shoulders sag. She continues.

“I want you to grow. I want us to grow together. But this isn’t the way to go about it.”

When I see a glint of tears in her eyes, I release another deep breath. This isn’t the first time—her tears, the talk. But my limbic system seems to be working overtime today.

Tears fill my eyes, but before they fall, I mutter a small ‘okay.’ Harper sharply turns her head to me. A small grin slips onto her face.

“Really?”

I slip the dress from her grasp before patting her shoulders gently. “When is the event starting?”

“We’ve got an hour to get you dolled up. Finally!” She engulfs me in a big hug. “Time for you to let off that steam.”

Minutes later, I’m wearing the dress. It’s short, reaching a little above mid-thigh. This is definitely an attention-seeking dress. My large ass and round hips don’t help the situation.

On the bodice, my boobs threaten to spill out from the v-cut shape. Shaking my head, I find a brush from the drawer. Then, I comb my hair in two parts to fall on each side of my shoulders.

My hair is now covering a part of the cleavage. Much better. I put on my heels.

“Ready?” Harper chimes.

When I turn, she’s in a short grey gown that matches her grey eyes. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and her tan skin complements her look. She looks beautiful.

I nod. She shakes her head. “Girl, there's no way I'm letting you go without some makeup.”

In an instant, I'm pushed into a chair, and after some minutes of Harper’s magic on my face, my makeup is done. The nude lipstick compliments the warm, creamy makeup. I like it.

“You look so beautiful,” she whispers.

I smile. “You, too.”

She pulls me in for a warm hug. Before she pulls back, she whispers, “I hope you meet someone that fucks the living daylights out of you tonight.”

I roll my eyes. She nudges me towards the door. We enter our Uber and, soon, we’re on our way.

A few minutes later, we get to the venue and I’m in awe.

I try not to feel a little out of place as I stare at the grand entrance of The Hotel Celestial, where the fundraising event is taking place.

The hotel is massive. A blend of cream and gold colors, the building is tall, spanning a sizable number of floors all coated in glass and demarcated by a gleaming piece of shiny black metal at every interval.

On top of the roof that shields the reception, there's a cream-colored extension adorned with golden lights and supported by the same shiny metals. Through the transparent glass doors, I can see the white marble floors that gleam under the light of chandeliers hanging like crystal waterfalls.

This place is beautiful… but somehow, it also builds hesitation within me. Harper notices it and squeezes my arm gently.

“Don’t be nervous, Raven. We’re here to support the hospital and have some fun,” she reassures me, linking her arm with mine. “And you're also here to get fuc–”

“I know,” I quickly reply. I don't want her to finish her sentence.

Inhaling a deep breath, we step inside. Again I'm in awe. The interior is just as beautiful as the exterior. Cream and gold colors continue to grace my vision, enhanced by elegantly dressed people. Their laughter and conversation fills the air amidst soft classical music. Waiters in sharp uniforms move gracefully through the crowd, offering trays of champagne and tiny, fancy appetizers.

Suddenly, I feel exposed. I adjust my gown and hair. Then swallow.

“It’s nice,” I whisper to Harper. I’ve never been anywhere this luxurious before. It feels like stepping into another world.

“I know.” She grins before grabbing a glass from a passing waiter. He offers me, too, but I politely decline. Harper shoots me a look. The meaning isn’t lost on me.

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

There’s no way I can drink comfortably now.

Glancing around, I drink in the sight of the people. Their elegant attire tells me they’re rich, but my prefrontal cortex tells me that they're all staring at me. Suddenly, a part of me surfaces— the part that feels claustrophobic when it’s more than me and Harper.

Gosh, we haven’t started yet, and I already feel suffocated. Quickly, I loosen my arm from Harper’s and smile. “I need some fresh air, I’ll be back.”

I watch her expression drop. Where her lips were stretched into a wide smile a moment ago, they’re now replaced with a small frown. My heart skips a beat at this but, thankfully, she doesn’t follow me.

I slip out of the hall and head outside. When I spot a small garden by the corner, I quicken my steps to it.

Greens invade my eyesight as I stop to take in the beauty of nature. Trees litter the surroundings in a circle shape and end with a single pink flower that invites me to the garden. In the center, there's a small, clear pond. And a little further from the green scape, there’s a small bench.

I sit down, then shut my eyes, and let out a huge breath. The sound of the music is now distinct, and the air is fresh… until it's slowly diluted with a rich-smelling cologne.

My eyes shoot open. What I see freezes me in my spot. Before me is Ezra Marino.

I know this man—everyone does. He is one of the leading businessmen in the country with very little scandal to his name.

Damn . The pictures I see in the media definitely don’t do him justice.

Observant green eyes flicker around the garden before landing on me.

Shit . My breath hitches in my throat. This man is gorgeous.

His dark hair mixed with grey strands is tousled as if he’s just run his fingers through it a few times. His nose is slightly crooked and rests on perfectly plump lips. A strong jaw frames his whole face, making it seem like he was sculpted by Adonis himself.

He has olive tan skin that looks even more attractive with those tattoos inked against it. I can’t see where his tattoos start from, but I do see the lines peeking from the collar of his suit and reaching just to the space beside his delicious Adam’s apple. Something about his tattoos gives him this dark, regal look even without him trying.

I force myself to look away when I realize I’ve been staring for too long.

What’s he doing here?

My eyes drop to his hands. Long, thick fingers curl around a dainty lighter. On his other hand, there’s a cigarette and dark ink, like the one on his neck, that decorates the space between his knuckles. I squint my eyes and see that his tattoos are in short, cursive Roman numerals.

I know I should probably give him some space and head back to the party. As I stand and take a foot forward, his voice catches me off guard.

“Don’t leave.”

It’s embarrassing the way his voice affects me. It rings through my ear drum and settles in my stomach. I’ve not talked to many men, but I know that deep, piercing voices rarely happen. My insides are a sudden mess.

Ugh! C’mon Raven! Get yourself together!

When I realize he’s still looking at me, I clear my throat to fill the silence. Ummm. What should I say?

“Me?” That's the only stupid thing that leaves my mouth.

His lips part to let out thick air. My nervousness grows. He takes his time to light the cigarette, then slowly brings it between his lips. The movement is slow, like a drag, but the good kind as he inhales with a groan and exhales with a smile. The sounds once again do things to my belly.

“I don't see anyone else here.”

Right. My tongue saves the day when I press it against the roof of my mouth to curtail my blush.

Why am I suddenly flustered?

I say nothing again and only watch the tip of his cigarette turn bright as he inhales another smoke. His hair falls into his face as he smokes. Now that I’m seeing him in person, his age dawns on me.

According to the news, he’s a forty-five-year-old successful business tycoon. But they failed to add the gorgeousness. This man doesn’t look a day over thirty-five.

I trail my eyes from a perfectly chiseled jaw to his chest. Olive tan chest peeks out from his suit which fits him perfectly like a second skin. As I watch his bicep tighten and relax, I have the urge to find whomever stereotyped dating older men and yell bloody murder at them.

Maybe I made a mistake. He wasn't carved by Adonis. He is Adonis…

The silence is still thick, so I take my eyes off him and fix it on that pink flower. Just when I manage to calm the raging storm in my stomach, he groans. This time, it shoots past my belly to my core.

Instinctively, I give unwarranted information. “In 2020, approximately 125,070 people died from lung cancer in the US.”

I mean, he should know smoking isn't really healthy, right? I don't know what I expect but he doesn’t stop.

“Do you memorize random facts to recite at these parties,” he replies with a puff. His voice is lower, and for a brief second, there’s an indecipherable expression in his hooded eyes.

My cheeks heat up, yet somehow, the response makes me chuckle.

“Do you feel better now?” He shoves a hand into his pocket.

“Uh?”

I don't understand, so I stare at him expectantly.

His voice is a notch lower when he responds. “In there, you looked…out of place…overwhelmed. You should feel better now.”

Oh. He saw me in there? Embarrassment flushes my cheeks.

“Oh, I’m not…” I trail, unable to lie.

He finally drops the cigarette. Then smashes the butt with a well-polished shoe.

“You’re quite intriguing.” His sharp jaw comes into view. Green eyes scan my form, landing briefly on my chest before holding my gaze. I bring my gaze to the ground when the stare becomes intense.

“What brings you here?” he asks.

“To the event or outside here with you?” my voice falls lower.

“Event.”

“My best friend,” I smile when I think about Harper. “She practically forced me here.”

He hums, tipping his head skyward. His neck is bare, and I get presumptuous mental images. The kind that only happens in romance books.

“So was it worth coming?”

My eyes land on his bottom lip as he studies me. Suddenly, the urge to taste those full lips is overwhelming.

“I…I don't know. Parties are not really my thing.”

There’s a brief silence before he stands up and takes a step toward me. Hot, minty breath sends shivers down my spine. My heart picks up its pace.

“So what is your thing?”

There's a stampede in my stomach as his face draws nearer to mine. Suddenly I'm hot, anticipating.

“Books,” I blurt. “Do you read books?”

He doesn't look like he reads shit. But I ask to ease the tension mounting in me.

He pulls back and stares at me like it's a strange question. A small smirk tips his lips. His eyes fall on my cleavage again. “My hobbies are more…physical than reading.”

A shiver wracks my spine. I’ve read enough romance books to know what he's implying. It’s in his eyes. Dark and laced with lust.

Still, I lick my dry lips and ask. “So what’s your latest hobby?”

“You.” His voice is deep and husky.

I swallow. “Me? You don't even know my name.”

“We can change that.”

It takes me a while to realize this is the part where I introduce myself. “I’m Raven. Raven Nightshade.”

“Raven.” He tests my name on his tongue, and my heart almost stops. “The bird of prey.”

Ezra’s gaze travels over me, lingering just long enough to make my pulse quicken.

“So Raven, what do you say we head back to my suite? Talk… about a book.” He trails. The glint in his eyes gives him away.

I know where this will end. It’s an invitation– a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to finally let go and let loose.

Live a little like Harper frequently advises.

Live and let loose, Raven . Fuck the handsome stranger, and you’ll be proud you did.

“What sort of book?” My voice is low, almost croaked, as I stare at his hooded eyes.

Slowly, he lowers his head to the side of my face. Then he whispers in my ear. “The one where the girl leaves boring crowds behind for a night of… pleasure, or let’s say unimaginable discovery.”

An involuntary whimper leaves my lips as he extends his hand. As if compelled, I slide my fingers into his large, warm hand as he leads me inside. Instead of heading to the event hall, he leads me down a quiet corridor to an elevator marked with a RESERVED sign. He pulls out a key card and smoothly swipes it across the call button. The doors slide open instantly.

He presses the button for the top floor and the doors silently close. The ride to the suite is a blur as my mind is everywhere. As we step out of the elevator, a knot of nerves tightens in my stomach. But the moment we enter the exquisite bedroom and he wraps his arm around my waist, my mind clears, and I’m consumed by a single thought: pleasure.

He pulls me impossibly closer. In one swift movement, he ducks his head and crashes his lips on mine. I melt into him. Fireworks explode in my belly and every other place in my body.

I can taste him—cigarette mixed with alcohol and a hint of sweetness I can't decipher. He tilts his head before he slips his tongue into my mouth with such a force. Good lord .

I’m kissing an affluent businessman in his presidential suite. And I can feel his bulging dick against my stomach.

His tongue is warm, caressing the corners of my mouth. I’m breathless, lost in heat. I don’t want to stop. As if to fulfill my desires, one strong hand grips my ass, lifting me effortlessly as if I weigh nothing.

I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as I feel him walk briefly before he lowers me on the bed. My back hits the soft mattress just as he edges back, his breathing as ragged as mine.

I love how much of an effect I have on him, the same way he has on me. I want to revel in this feeling for as long as it lasts.

Without wasting time, I pull open his shirt and pop his buttons free. He only watches me with hooded eyes as he lets me have control, tugging his shirt until it falls to the floor.

Intricately designed tattoos are the first thing that clouds my vision when I take in his chest. His tattoos do run deeper than his neck. They span from the center of his right breast like an image of a fierce dragon opening its mouth in a gruesome growl.

It’s fascinating, but I don’t stare for long as I bring my fingers to his chest, tracing every line of ink on his skin.

His muscles tense in response as I move from his chest to his shoulder, where another tattoo starts. It’s an exaggerated, cursive handwriting in Italian that stretches along his arm and stops before his shoulder.

When I look at him, his eyes are impossibly dark, and his breathing is ragged. Heat fills my face as I bring my hand over his shoulder and back to his chest, where I draw lower until I reach his belt. Biting my lips, I fumble with his belt. His breathing comes out even harder as I unbuckle it.

I dig my hands into his pants, but before I can grab his rod, he tugs my hand away and pins it above my head. “Not yet,” he rasps. The words barely leave his lips before he yanks the cup of my bra to the side and latches onto my nipple.

My head falls back in the bed as I release a loud moan. Fuck .

I arch my back as his hand curves my back to release my bra in one motion. My nipples feel hot with pleasure as his tongue circles and flicks my flesh. His hands move to my other breast and start to knead.

I tangle my fingers in his soft strands, burying his head even deeper in my skin. The simultaneous sucking and kneading of my breast is torturing. I want more. And like he heard my thoughts, he pulls back.

In a flash, he’s tugging my panties down my legs. His eyes blaze darker when he pushes my thighs apart, visually drinking in my wet pussy. I instinctively bring my legs together, but his firm hands stop me.

“Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding.

Heat floods my face as I watch him take me in, his gaze igniting my desire. A small rumble reverberates through his chest as his eyes move between my breasts and pussy, devouring every inch of me.

Before I know it, he reaches a hand out, and the next thing I feel is warmth on my pussy. His warm palm cups my core before the pad of his thumb circles my clit. Pleasure shoots through me, evident in the gasp that escapes my lips.

“Ohhh,” I moan when his thumb starts to circle faster.

My hips are now bucking, moving in tandem with his fingers as he increases his pace.

Fuck . I want him inside of me.

As if hearing my thoughts, he pulls back just enough to lower his trousers. That’s when I see him? fully exposed, muscles rippling with every flex.

His cock is thick, long, and hard. I can’t help the saliva that pools in my mouth as my eyes trail over the swollen, pink tip, already glistening with precum.

“Fuck!” The whisper falls out before I can stop it. The urge to taste him, to feel his hardness slamming into me, is overwhelming.

He catches my gaze and smirks, eyes gleaming with lust.

“Like what you see?”

My throat tightens when I realize I’ve been caught staring.

Without warning, his fingers slam into my pussy.

“F…fuckkkk,” a guttural scream rips through me, my body arching as he pulses in and out. He doesn’t give me time to reel in the feeling when another finger joins.

My hands involuntarily move to his shoulders. I clench his skin as he continues pumping in and out of me, and a knot starts to slowly form in my stomach.

“I’m going to?” I scream as the knot becomes tighter.

“Cum for me…” he growls, his voice thick with need. His face contorts in that raw, tortured expression as he watches me come loose all over his finger. My chest is rising and falling rapidly as my body convulses in his hold.

Before I can catch my breath, his mouth is on me. His tongue finds my clit, circling my nub. I moan loudly as he starts to pick up pace.

“Oh God,” I gasp, shutting my eyes as I writhe on his face.

This is heaven.

I reach out to hold his head in place, my fingers digging through his dark brown hair as his tongue runs up and down my pussy. His tongue moves faster, sucking and licking every essence of me.

My legs tremble as I feel my orgasm crash down on me. With a loud scream, I cum in his mouth, and he laps at my essence. My body is still trembling, and my legs are quaking when he raises his head and replaces his lips with his huge cock.

Fuck. At this rate, I’ll die of too much pleasure. Anticipation rapidly builds in my chest as his pulsing tip pushes against my entrance.

He slowly wedges himself between my thighs, pushing the first few inches of his girth inside me. A pleasurable scream rips my throat as I fist the sheets tightly. Fuck .

“I’m going to fuck your brains out, and you’ll take it like a good little girl,” he groans huskily, placing a hand on my hips. “Is that clear?”

I whimper. If the first quarter of him feels like my insides are ripping apart, I wonder how all of him will feel. I anticipate it.

“I need you to use your words.”

My throbbing pussy screams for him. I might lose my mind if he doesn’t fuck me now.

“Yes,” I pant.

“Good girl,” he purrs. In one swift move, he slams himself all the way in. His length reaches depths in me I did not know I had. My breath is knocked out of me as ecstasy sweeps through me.

“Fuck.” A raspy groan rips his throat. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Locking my ankles together at the small of his back, I hold onto him. His thrusts are fast and hard as I steady my fingers on his shoulders before clenching his muscles.

A deep, low rumble vibrates from his chest, filling the space between us. The rest of the world is zoned out, and it’s just us?our bodies moving together, the sounds we make, and the continuous slam of the headboard against the wall.

Unexpectedly, he angles one of my legs over his shoulder, pulling out and slamming back in with rough precision. A cry escapes my lips as he pins me in place. His pace doubles, his eyes trained on my breasts, bouncing rapidly with each thrust.

His breath comes in ragged gasps. Mine spills out in loud, uncontrollable moans. Damn .

“Don’t stop,” I cry, when he starts to hit the spot.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You feel so divine.”

With every thrust, I feel full. My spine arches, and my nails press into his taut skin.

“I’m going to cum,” I moan, as he continues his strokes.

He slaps my ass and pins me with his gaze. “Not yet.”

Everything in me aches to obey, and I do. My hands slide up to his chest as his strokes grow ferocious.

“Ezra, please…” I croak in pleasure.

He smirks and a hand wraps around my neck before his movements turn erratic, tightening as he leans in, voice hoarse. “Now. Cum for me now.”

Instantly, the knot in my stomach unravels, and I explode with a scream. He follows, pulling out just in time to release his cum onto my stomach.

I'm still quivering as his warm liquid spills over my skin. Moments later, he falls beside me, his breathing ragged and uneven.

Did I really just have three orgasms in a row? I never knew my body was capable of even one, let alone three. I guess that’s where the skills of a Greek god like Ezra Marino came in handy.

My legs are still quaking, and as we lie there, coming down from the high, I know this is my undoing.