Anna took her time looking him over. From hooded ebony eyes to broad muscular shoulders and lean belly to thickening manhood and weighty balls to corded thighs and hairy calves and finally to large, bony feet. The light had been dim at Aphrodite’s Grotto, and she wanted to save this picture of him should she never see it again. He was beautiful standing there, offering himself to her in the candle’s glow. She found her throat was too thick to speak, so she simply held out her arms.
Edward closed his eyes for a second. Had he really thought she would send him away? Then he walked soundlessly to the bed. He halted beside her. Bowing his head with unexpected elegance, he raised one hand to pull the ribbon from his queue. Black silk flowed around his scarred shoulders. He climbed in the bed and crouched over her, his hair tickling the sides of her face. He lowered his head to brush soft kisses over her cheeks, her nose, and her eyes. She tried to lift her lips to his, but he evaded her. Until she grew impatient.
She needed his mouth so much. “Kiss me.” She drove her fingers into his mane and drew his face down to hers.
He opened his lips over hers, taking her breath into himself, and it felt like a benediction. This was so right. She knew that now. This passion between them was the most perfect thing in the world.
She squirmed, trying to get closer to him, but his hands and knees on either side of her body weighed down the sheet covering her. She was trapped. He ravished her mouth at his pleasure. He took his time, roughly, then softly, and then roughly once more until she felt her want melt within her.
Suddenly he reared back on his knees. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his chest, and seed dewed the tip of his penis. She moaned low in her throat at the sight. He was so magnificent, so beautiful, and at this instant in time, he was all hers.
He flicked his gaze at her face, then downward as he pulled the sheet from her breasts. She wore only her shift. He drew the thin garment tight across her bosom and examined the result. She could feel her nipples stiffening against the fabric. Tight and yearning. Waiting for his touch. He leaned down, placed his wet mouth over a nipple, and sucked at it through the shift. The sensation was so sharp she bucked. He moved to the other nipple and suckled that one as well until the tips of her breasts were draped in wet, transparent fabric. He drew back and blew on first one, and then the other nipple, making her gasp and struggle.
“Stop playing. For pity’s sake, touch me.” She didn’t recognize her own voice, it was so husky.
“As you wish.”
He grasped the neckline of the shift and with one motion, tore open the flimsy material. Her bare breasts tumbled into the chilly night air. For a second, Anna was shy. She wore no concealing mask tonight. This was her real self making love to Edward. She had no pretense to hide behind; he could see her face, her emotions. Then he swooped once again and captured her nipple in his mouth. The heated sucking after the coolness of the wet fabric almost sent her over the edge. At the same time, he burrowed long fingers in her maiden hair.
She stilled, breathlessly waiting, as he delicately sought and then found what he searched for. He began an insidious circling with his thumb. Oh, God, it felt so good. He knew exactly how to touch her. She mewled, her hips instinctively following his hand. He thrust his finger deep inside her, and she shuddered in the sudden storm of her climax.
His breath whispered over her closed eyelids. “Look at me.”
She turned her head to the sound of his growl, her eyes still closed in bliss.
“Anna, look at me.”
She opened her eyes.
Edward loomed over her, his face flushed, his nostrils flared. “I am putting myself in you now.”
She could feel his erection nudging at her wet opening. The head began squeezing in, and her eyelids dropped in reaction.
“Anna, sweet Anna, look at me,” Edward crooned.
He was halfway in now, and she struggled to keep her eyes focused. He bent his head and licked the tip of her nose.
Her eyes widened.
And he drove all the way home.
She moaned and arched against him. So right. So perfect. He filled her as if they were both made for this. As if they were made for each other. She curved her thighs around his hips, cradling him with her pelvis, and looked into his face. His eyes were closed, his face stark with want. A strand of inky hair had plastered itself against his jaw.
He opened his eyes then and speared her with their black intensity. “I am in you, and you are holding me. There is no going back from this moment.”
She cried out at his words, and the breath within her chest seemed to tremble. His hips rocked. She wrapped her arms around him and held on as the slide of his penis shoving in and out of her drove all thought from her mind. He quickened his pace and groaned. His eyes were locked with hers; as if he was trying to communicate something unutterable. She touched the side of his face with one hand.
His big body seemed to break apart. He jerked against her hard. She began coming in waves, a joy so exquisite flooded her that she couldn’t contain it. She moaned her rapture. He threw back his head at the same time and bared his teeth in a shout of pleasure. Warmth flooded her womb, her heart, and her very soul.
His heavy body lay on hers, and she felt his heartbeat. Anna sighed. Then he lethargically rolled off her. She curled into a ball on her side, her limbs pleasantly achy. The last thing she felt before surrendering to oblivion was Edward’s hands on her stomach, pulling her back against his warmth.
Chapter Twenty
In the fifth year of her search, late on a rainy night, Aurea stumbled through a grim, dark wood. She wore thin rags that only just covered her body; her feet were bare and blistered, and she was lost and weary. A single crust of bread was the only food she had. In the gloom, she spied a flickering light. A tiny shack stood all alone in a clearing. At her knock, a toothless crone, bent nearly double by age, appeared at the door and beckoned her inside.
“Ah, dearie,” the old woman croaked. “ ’Tis a cold, wet night to be alone. Come share my fire, do. But I fear I’ve no victuals to offer you; my table is bare. Oh, but what I wouldn’t give for something to eat!”
Hearing this, Aurea took pity on the crone. She reached into her pocket and offered the old woman her last bit of bread….
—from The Raven Prince
A high, womanish scream jolted Edward from sleep the next morning. He lurched up, shocked, and stared toward the source of the awful noise. Davis, his gray locks straggling about his grizzled face, stared back in abject horror. Beside Edward, a feminine voice made a sleepy protest. Christ! He quickly threw the sheets over Anna.