16. MADDY

16

MADDY

As soon as we step into Raven’s house and he shuts the door behind him, our bodies smack together like magnets. There’s no other way to describe it. Within seconds, we are kissing, our hands greedily roaming each other’s bodies. His grunts, my moans, the sound of our lips fusing together—all of it makes the rest of the world go quiet.

He whispers, “Missed you,” and his mouth devours mine again. Then he pulls back for a fraction of an inch, “So much,” and takes it again with so much passion that I lose my footing. A moan escapes me as his hands cup my butt to steady me against him.

I missed his touch and our conversations. But most of all, just his presence, knowing he’s here, in the same world as me. That he exists, a constant. His absence was the most devastating week of my life.

Kai took Little to his place, explaining that Raven needed rest and sleep.

Ali is at the medical center, but he will be taken care of.

Nilanski and two of my father’s men guard Raven’s house.

Back at the Center, Raven whispered, “Will you stay with me tonight?” Like there was another possible scenario?

“If you didn’t let me, I would’ve slept under your windows,” I said, and he laughed.

Dad didn’t say anything when I told him I’d call the next morning. He’ll have time to get properly acquainted with Raven. Tonight, Raven is only mine.

When he breaks the kiss, we both breathe heavily. He presses his forehead to mine, and we take a moment of silence to get caught up with the reality. He is back. Right next to me. That means we have a future together.

I didn’t get a chance to study him outside, by the Center. It was dark, and I was overwhelmed. But now that we are inside his lit living room, I take a moment to inspect him. There’s blood on the side of his jaw, on his bruised hands. There’s dirt and dust on his torn shirt and sweaty hair. He smells like smoke and sweat and blood. And that’s my Raven, going through hell and still coming out on the other side like the warrior that he is.

“I need a shower,” he says with an apologetic smile. My warrior has the kindest smile. And he still doesn’t let me go, his arms wrapped around me.

“Yeah, you do. Want me to make something to eat?” I give him a little kiss, our lips lingering against each other’s for a hot second.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” He kisses me again.

“I’m... I’m sorry I trespassed a little,” I say, vaguely nodding around. “I stayed here a couple of times. And some of my stuff is here.”

His smile grows. “Good.” He gives my cheek a brief stroke and walks to his bedroom.

I pick up my phone and text Mac.

Me: Mathew is home! He is safe! I will get him to call you when he is rested!

The reply comes right away.

Mac: God bless. Thank you, Maddy.

I make Raven a sandwich, all the while listening to the sound of the shower in his bedroom. And I smile like an idiot, cheering at every little sound of Raven being home.

When I hear the bathroom door open, I pad to the bedroom. I’m not a creep, I just want to see him again, make sure he is real and my desperate brain didn’t make this up like it did every day since he had gone missing.

I halt in the doorway—Raven is standing at the chest of drawers, his back to me, his giant raven tattoo dark and majestic. There’s only a towel wrapped around his hips.

I shouldn’t be thinking anything dirty, but I can’t help it. This is a completely new view for me.

Raven looks over his shoulder, catching my admiring gaze. He turns slowly and, as slowly, walks up to me. His arm wraps around my waist, his other hand tangles in my hair, and he presses his mouth to mine in a kiss.

Who needs food? Or sleep? Or rest? Raven obviously doesn’t because his body bucks into mine with the obvious need of a different kind.

My hands slide up his bare torso, and then there is no stopping his as he hurriedly starts pulling my clothes off. I yank his towel off and moan as his fingers slide between my legs at the precise moment my hand wraps around his erection.

We kiss so greedily, our hands so impatient that I don’t realize that Raven is pushing me toward the bed until we both collapse on top of it, our mouths mashed together. He yanks my legs apart, brings his erection against my entrance, and penetrates me in one powerful thrust. He doesn’t stop even for a second, pulls almost all the way out, and thrusts inside me again.

And then it’s powerful thrust after thrust after thrust, his hips snapping so fast that we stop kissing, though our open mouths are pressed together as we breathe through each other. The fire burning through me is so intense that I moan embarrassingly loudly. Raven grunts in response. He shifts, burying his face in my hair as his thick hardness is fucking me into the mattress with astonishing speed. It’s not gentle. It’s not thoughtful. Desperation and tension are about to reach the breaking point. And when they do, I come so powerfully that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. My body is still thrashing under Raven’s powerful thrusts until he grunts and collapses on top of me.

I might be having a heart attack. I’m not, but I’m pretty sure my heart is having arrhythmia and tachycardia all at once. I feel like I’m deprived of oxygen. I’m breathing so fast with my mouth open that it’s ashy-dry. Our chests smack against each other as we pant loudly. Raven’s entire body is trembling when he rolls his hips, still inside me.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers, kissing my shoulder. “That was…”

“Intense,” I blurt with a pant.

“Yeah.”

I stroke his back, smiling with my eyes closed.

“I think I’m still hard,” he murmurs with a chuckle. He rolls his hips and lifts his head, his beautiful smile hovering over my lips, his icy blues meeting my eyes. “One more? Or do you want a little break?”

I laugh, shaking, feeling him hard inside me, and I roll my hips against him, nudging him into tiny thrusts.

He crowds me, overwhelms me. It’s nothing like I’ve felt before. I savor the feeling of him inside me, like energy flows between us, and we are trying to refill it and share.

“Give me one more,” I murmur against his lips before he claims another kiss.

This time, he goes slow. His caresses are more thoughtful. But we don’t chase another orgasm.

“Missed you so much, Mayflower,” he whispers.

“Yeah, baby. Me too.”

He goes completely still, the sudden change so drastic that I open my eyes and stare at him.

His eyes are blazing. “What was that?”

“What?” My heart gives out a panicky beat.

“That word you just used.”

What did I say?

Baby.

Oh, God, I’m overdoing it.

“Is it too much?” I whisper.

His hips do a little swirl, his erection deliciously filling me up. He lifts himself higher on his elbows, his hand cups my face, and his thumb brushes against my lower lip.

“I like it,” he whispers. “Say it again.”

He starts thrusting into me again, watching my mouth like it’s about to say something miraculous.

“Yes,” I murmur. To the word. To us. To him inside me. And him naked, flush against me.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, baby,” I whisper with a smile.

His lips crash against mine with such force that I go dizzy and moan into his mouth.

And then come his rhythmic thrusts, his fingers slipping down between my legs, and his skillful touch. Suddenly, he pulls out, sits up on his knees, pulls me closer, bringing my pussy against his cock, and fucks me as he pushes my thighs wider, watching me, my face, my breasts that he strokes, his cock sheathed inside me. He spreads my pussy lips and strokes me with his fingertips, that teasing touch that always sends me over the edge. And I look up at his powerful body, bruised, scarred, muscled, tempered with hard life—all of it mine, all of him—and I let myself come, not holding back. Not the moans, not the pants, not the way I let my back arch and roll my hips, and when the orgasm subsides, I bring my hand between us, cup his balls just like he likes, and make him come within seconds.

We lay on the bed for some time afterward, not bothering to cover ourselves up—that’s unusual for Raven. Our legs are touching, and so are our hands. I breathe deeply, taking in his scent, run my fingertips across his chest—to make sure he’s real. He covers my hand on his chest, his eyes on the ceiling, blinking lazily, and I wonder what he’s thinking about. Whether he missed me the way I missed him.

“You need food,” I finally say.

He chuckles through his nose and finally turns to look at me. “You and food, Maddy.”

“What?” I frown at him.

He shakes his head, his gaze roaming my face. “Nothing. It can wait. I don’t want to move right now.”

“I can.” I start getting up, but he stops me. “No, give me a minute. I just want to stay here with you, like this.”

“Okay,” I say, cuddling up to him.

We said some good things the last time we were together. But we didn’t say enough. When I saw him at the Center earlier, when everyone was greeting him and he was talking to Sonny, the way he looked at me when he started approaching, made me suddenly too aware of myself and my silly tears. His hesitant gaze made me think that maybe he didn’t expect to see me there, wasn’t sure what I would say. As if he didn’t know how I feel.

Maybe I should tell him. Because he won’t, even if he feels the same.

“What you said at the hospital when Sonny took the pills, you were wrong about me,” I say, stroking his chest, wanting to touch him endlessly. It’s been ten days since that hospital fight, the first kiss. Nine days since his kidnapping, and it feels like a lifetime ago. “You said that I would’ve never been with you if it weren’t for your blackmail.”

His body stiffens.

I rise on my elbow and meet his eyes.

“When we met,” I continue, “I might have been on the defense. You seemed so hostile, but something about you drew me in from the moment I saw you. I know it. You know it. You felt it, too. At the hospital ward, when you came in with Archer after Carnage… I have known it ever since. We were inevitable, Rave. If not for your blackmail, we would’ve collided. Eventually, we would have. You might not believe in destiny, but before the night at Bangkok, when you told me you knew who I was and set the price for keeping my secret, I knew that somehow we would’ve ended up together. Tell me I’m not crazy for thinking that.”

He’s silent. His eyes might say a hundred things, but I want him to talk.

“Say something,” I whisper.

“When I told you I’m not sorry for blackmailing you, Maddy, I was honest. If I hadn’t, I don’t think there’s an alternative version where I would have a chance with you.”

My heart falls.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Maddy,” he says. “I’ve never met a strong person who could stand up to me and stand next to me, not afraid, not cowering away, and willing to go hand in hand. Until you, Maddy. I never met someone who could make me feel so powerful. Until you. And I never was as vulnerable as I was with you.” He goes quiet for a moment and licks his lips before he continues. “I’ve never felt as low as I did when we didn’t talk. Or so turned on when you were next to me. Or angry. Or jealous. Or happy. I haven’t met so many versions of myself until you. All my life, I was this one straight bullet, sharp and fast, ripping through everything in my way, heading in one direction. Until you, Maddy. When I met you, suddenly, there was another way my life could go. With you. It felt surreal. It felt like a wild fantasy. It was overwhelming.”

“I love those versions of you,” I say.

“Not the angry one.”

“Oh, yeah, the angry one, too. That’s when you forget that you are supposed to be this cool calm guy and you let your emotions out.”

He shakes his head, looks at me thoughtfully, and I can’t stop admiring him.

Falling in love is like acquiring an extra sense. Everything about the other person becomes special.

The way he bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over my words.

The way his strong hand with bruised knuckles rests gently on my bare hip.

The way his muscles ripple when he shifts his shoulders. They do the same when he makes love to me.

The way he rubs the thumb on his left hand over the fingertips, then rubs it back and forth over the two stubs.

“I want to make you smile more often,” I say, brushing my fingertips against his lips. “I like it when you smile.”

He doesn’t. I try to tickle him. He only shifts away, the corners of his lips curling just a tiny bit.

“Maddy baby, you can be very annoying.”

“I’m serious, Rave. I never told you, though I probably should’ve. I love you.”

Instantly, he freezes, sucks in his cheeks, not looking at me.

“The biggest changes take place here.” I tap my temple with my forefinger. “But the most extraordinary ones happen here.”

I press my palm to his chest, where his heart is.

“The scariest thing is to let people in there and let them see what you’re really made of. I’ve read your notes and letters, Rave.” His jaw tightens instantly. “I’m sorry. I wanted to know more about you, and I invaded your privacy. But I learned a lot. You don’t have to say the important words back to me. It’s all right. I have enough for both of us, and I’m not going to hide. Not this time. Not with you. I’m done playing games and holding back my feelings that I should’ve talked about long time ago. I love you, Rave.”

He pulls me tight against him, kisses my temple, and holds still like this.

“Please, don’t hide,” I say, trying to pull back again, but he won’t let me, and I give up. “I need you to know that I love you. I hope you do. I hope you understand that this is not an infatuation or a silly crush. I love you, with all my heart. All of you. And I wish that, one day, you deem me worthy of all your stories. I want you to share them all. One day.”

“I heard you,” he says almost in a whisper, kisses me on the cheek, and excuses himself.

He gets off the bed and pads to the bathroom.

Just like that.

I smile sadly to myself—I’m not surprised. I’m not offended that he just ditched me in bed. I know Raven by now. It will take time for him not to be weirded out by words like this. It’s okay. I’m patient. I have the patience of a thousand-year-old oak. And I have a lot of determination to make him and Little happy.

The shower starts again in the bathroom. Is Rave washing me off? Is he going to leave right now? Go to the Center?

That starts hurting just a little. He can be prickly like the Crown of Thorns flower, but there is no chance in hell he’s leaving right now. Not when I waited for him, crying my heart out.

Maybe I was too serious, and he was tired and not in the mood for this deep talk. But determined, I walk up to the bathroom door.

There is no movement behind it, just the shower running.

“Rave? Can I come in?”

There’s no answer. I try the handle, but the door is locked.

Guess whose turn it is to be a stalker, baby?

I don’t do this anymore, I tell myself as I walk to the nightstand, pick up one of my hairpins, then walk back to the door. I don’t break into rich places out of a sense of a thrill. I don’t party with gangsters during the quick trips to my Motherland. I don’t seduce a billionaire prince in Morocco just to mess with my dad. I don’t steal my dad’s rich friends’ luxury cars while intoxicated. I don’t sedate my bodyguard and fly to a party in Ibiza. I don’t shoplift out of a sense of rebellion because Dad blocked my credit cards.

I don’t pick the locks to places I’m not supposed to be anymore, except this one time.

It’s a matter of seconds until I open the door and walk in.

Raven stands naked, his palms and forehead pressed against the shower wall as the water cascades down his inked skin. He is a beautiful man. Scarred, etched with cuts and burns like a warrior. I know his quietness and stillness. No, he is not annoyed—he is hiding himself.

I don’t think twice when I step into the shower, wrap my arms around his waist, and press tightly against him, resting my head against his shoulder.

You all right?

I don’t ask that out loud. Something isn’t. His breathing is deep but uneven, as if he’s trying to hold his breath but fails. And then there is this occasional tremble of his body, a vibration in his chest, and I don’t need to be a psychic to know these little signs of a man trying to hold back the strongest emotions.

I’ve seen him being chained and stabbed. I’ve seen him angry and happy, bitter and tender.

But I’ve never seen him cry.

Until now.