Flock (The Ravenhood)

These past weeks I’ve spent with him have been some of the best of my life.

It’s just…Sean.

He’s everything I didn’t know I wanted in a man and so much more than I ever hoped to have. He’s considerate, thoughtful, and ridiculously smart, and my attraction to him is boundless on so many levels. With him, I feel lucky, like I won some sort of man lottery. And in a way, that makes me fearful.

My heart is no longer hiding in the shadows, it’s dancing in the open now, much like we were in the bar last night.

And the sex, I’ve never had it so good. His brand of fucking is both blissful and tortuous. We’d spent our time diving into each other with heated whispers. It had been a marathon of moans and groans, and I’d never wanted it to end. We’d had drunken sex, which was a first for me. I’d let my inhibitions go and it had paid off in spades.

I damn near moan as I recall him driving into me from behind, his hands covering me, spreading me to take him deeper as he spoke filthy words at my back.

When he came, raking his nails on my scalp, I surprised myself by going with him without the help of a hand between my legs—another first.

We slowed down, unable to stop, reaching for the other minutes later. I called his name repeatedly out of fear of the chest he was cracking wide open, of what he was able to see. His kiss, his touch, the slow thrust of his hips soothing me with soft words of “I know, baby, I’m with you.”

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With me. And he was. For so long, I’ve been in hiding, and in a month of knowing him, it’s like he’s freed me.

He surrounds me with his embrace. The deep exhale of his breath lulling me back into a peaceful state even as that voice in my head screams, ‘what in the actual fuck, Cecelia?’

I burrow into his hold, enjoying the warmth coupled with the sting between my legs as more of last night’s memories envelop me.

Spending a few silent minutes in his arms, my body reminds me of why I woke, the strain in my bladder commanding me to break away from him. Lifting his inked arm, I slither out of bed before staring down at him as he sleeps, his spiky hair thoroughly disheveled from my fingers, his golden body encased by his faded denim comforter. Ogling my new man, I give myself another second to appreciate him, softly shutting his door before padding down the hall to his bathroom. Tyler and Dominic have the bedrooms with bathrooms. Sean had given his away freely.

Of course, he had. He’s selfless.

Another reason to want to trust him.

His needs are so basic, and yet I feel like I’m starting to become one of them. He’s making me believe it.

Once I relieve myself, wincing the entire time, I wash my hands and study my reflection, noticing the faint bite marks on my neck. Anxious for a painkiller for the budding migraine, but more anxious to get back to Sean, I open the door and am met with the sight of Dominic in the bedroom on the opposite side of the hall.

Naked.

Sleeping naked.

The sight of him knocks the breath from me as I stand frozen, somewhere between in and out of the bathroom.

He’s on his back, stretched out, his head tilted due to the propped position of his pillow, his muscular arm tucked beneath it.

I. Can’t. Look. Away.

His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm as I stand immobile to the sight of him. One of his legs is drawn up and resting on the edge of his bed while the other lay straight out, the position itself like an offering. My eyes dip to where his cock rests between his muscular thighs.

Jesus, he’s beautiful. I don’t know how long I stand, just watching him, drinking him in, I only know that when my eyes drift from his impressive cock back to his face, I’m met with a silver stare.

My palms tingle while my face blanches with shame and humiliation, and I still can’t look away.

Instead, I just stare…and he stares back at me. I know I should apologize and bolt, but I’m unable to form words, not even to offer the apology he rightfully deserves.

Or does he?

He had to have heard us last night. Did he leave his door open knowing I would see him?

Caught in the moment, in my utter stupidity, the morning light in his bedroom lifts as he lowers his eyes. I follow his gaze and see he’s hard.

Get out of here, Cecelia!