Midnight's End (The Raven Queen's Harem 6)

He pulls my hips to his and I feel his hard length. “You have no fucking idea.”

It’s my turn to give a wicked smile. I fist his shirt and say, “Take me on a ride and bring me back and show me.”

“Deal.”

My knees buckle just having him near me, but I gain composure and lead the way to the garage. There’s one thing I’ve learned about Damien. If I hold off a little bit longer, cruise through the city with my arms tight around his body and bide my time, I’ll be rewarded with the ride of a lifetime.

“I told them to be nice to you.”

I dip my fingers into the salve and gentl

y touch the bruise on Bunny’s cheekbone. He flinches but steadies himself and allows me to rub on the cream.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he says, wincing in pain. He’s on the bed, head pressed into pillows. “It’s sort of…um, a ritual.”

The Ravens beat the shit out of Bunny.

Betrayal comes with a price, even if it’s for a reason.

“It’s not the first time one of us has had to run the gauntlet.” He holds his ribs when he says it. “Dylan had to run it once. Clinton twice.”

I stare at him for a minute, not really wanting to know more than I already do about the archaic punishment system that involves sticks. A little of my concern fades when his lips twitch into a slight smile. He and his brothers are right again and that’s all that matters.

“No more secrets, okay?” I tell him. Everything we went through on the Otherside together brought us closer. We had to learn to trust one another.

“Yeah. I learned my lesson on that one.” He reaches out and grazes my cheek. “Never underestimate what you can handle.”

I take his hand and kiss his knuckles. “Same.”

I continue checking his wounds. The bruises on his ribs are dark purple. The one on his back looks painful and red. I sigh and drop his shirt. “You know, I haven’t tested my healing powers on anyone since we returned home.”

His quirked eyebrow peeks out over the frame of his glasses. “Interesting.”

“I mean, obviously I would have to be gentle.”

He nods. “I can do gentle. I mean, you know, if you’re up to it.”

I don’t tell him that I’ve been looking for a chance to be close to him again. On our own terms, without danger and obligation over our heads. I knew the opportunity would come for us—there’s been no rush.

“Let’s see if my mojo still works,” I say, genuinely curious.

I take my time peeling off his shirt. His body is still magnificent, regardless of the beating. I strip him completely, removing his pants and boxers. He’s not too injured that his body isn’t reacting and I’m pleased to see his reaction to me, despite the pain.

I crawl up the bed, kissing every bruise. I breathe hot air against his skin and his cock grows harder with every touch. His hand pushes against the hem of my shirt, nudging it higher and slipping his hand underneath. His fingers find my breast, grazing then tugging at my nipple.

“Gods, Bunny,” I mumble, feeling the sensation ripple down my body. I lay my hands on his abdomen, on the ladder of taught muscles, and miraculously the bruises fade. Just in time because I’m dying to straddle him, feel him between my legs.

Even so, we take our time, hands wandering, bodies connecting. His wounds heal, slowly fading with every touch. I shimmy out of my skirt and his fingers grip the side of my panties, tearing them off in a snap. I smile at his eagerness, the way it excites me, and I climb in his lap, wrapping my legs around his back. I kiss the wound on his cheek, the bridge of his nose and his lips. I taste his blood, suck on his tongue and cry into his mouth, begging for him to enter me.

“Fuck me,” I whisper.

Better now, he stands and drags me to the edge of the bed, tapping my knee with his hand. I open for him and he looms over me, a god in his own right. He’s gorgeous, hair flopping into his eyes, jaw tight with want. His torso tapers into a muscular V, pointing at the hard length bobbing between his legs. He dips his fingers against my core, feeling, to makes sure I’m wet and ready.

I moan and writhe against this fingers, letting him know I am.

I really, really am.

I issue a prayer that he doesn’t make me wait, and thank the gods when he enters me quickly with a relieved groan. “Feeling better?” I ask as he takes a moment to stare at me, our bodies adjusting to one another.