Ride Hard (Raven Riders 1)

“Okay?” he asked, an eyebrow arched. “That’s it?”

“I don’t know what else to say,” she said. “Thank you for telling me.”

His whole face frowned. “Don’t thank me. Not for that.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked, meeting his intense gaze.

“You, Haven. Always you. I’m fucking starving for you. All the time. You think you’re not wanted? I want you. I want you so much I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. Every minute of every day, all I can think about is you.” Breathing hard, eyes flashing, Dare loomed over her, the words hanging in the tight space between them.

And they were the most amazing, life-giving words anyone had ever said to her. Which made her know exactly what to say. “Then have me.”

At first, he didn’t react, but then Dare leaned in slow, so maddeningly slow that Haven thought she might die before his skin brushed hers. But for all that slowness, the instant their lips collided, a flashfire ignited. His mouth claimed hers, hard and urgent, and she gave back as good as she could—grasping his hair, pulling him deeper, sucking his tongue until he was groaning and rock hard against her belly.

“Can’t go slow,” he rasped, pinning her against the counter.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t hold back.” She wanted him just like this—raw and rough and real.

He jerked her jeans open and pushed them down until she could step out of them. “No one’s around right now,” he breathed harshly into her ear as he bared himself, shoving his jeans down his thighs. His cock fell heavy and hot against her belly.

“I don’t care if they are,” she said. And she didn’t, not in that moment, maybe not ever. She was leaving, after all. In less than two days, now.

“Aw, feel that pussy.” Two of his fingers slipped between her thighs, stroked at her clit, spread the wetness he drew out of her. Haven moaned and thrust her hips forward, so on edge from the fight and her anger and his words, and from wanting him and thinking she’d never have him again, that she felt close to exploding. “Gotta get in you,” he said.

“Please,” she whispered.

Dare found a condom in his wallet and rolled it on, and then he kissed her deeply while he pushed his cock between her legs. He grasped and lifted her thigh, hooking it on his hip. And then he bent his knees, angled his hips, and penetrated her inch by achingly good inch until he’d given her everything he had.

A groan ripped out of his throat when he bottomed out inside her, and then his hips were flying, the strokes fast and deep, his hold on her thigh and the back of her neck tight and almost bruising. Holding onto him, too, she wasn’t complaining, because being needed, being claimed, being wanted—even if it was all temporary—was still the best thing she’d ever known. And she’d carry the memories of these stolen moments with Dare for the rest of her life.

Their foreheads together, their hair wild around their faces, their harsh breaths caressing one another’s lips—it was all beautiful to her. Beautiful beyond anything she’d ever known—and Dare was the one who gave that to her. He’d told her once that she could find beauty in the world, and he’d been right.

It was him, all along.

His cock filled and stroked her so deliciously, and his pubic bone smacked against hers again and again and again until she was holding her breath and straining, straining for release.

The orgasm hit her like a shock wave, throwing her head back and knocking her knee out from under her so that Dare had to hold her full weight. Her breath exploded out of her on a long cry as her fingers dug into his shoulders, seeking an anchor in the storm of him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growled, his hard, grinding strokes crashing over her. “Fucking come all over me.”

“Oh, God,” she rasped, shaking and light-headed. “I wish you could come in me. I would die to feel that.”

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, his mouth coming down hard on hers. And then he was groaning into the rough kiss as his cock jerked inside her. He moved through his release, his hips slowing, his body shaking, his face the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen.

On a long exhale, he eased out of her and let go of her leg. But he didn’t let go of her. Dare wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him until they were touching from knees to forehead, her face buried in the crook of his neck, his hand stroking the back of her hair. His pulse raced against her cheek, and it was such a rush to know she wasn’t the only one so affected by what they’d done. They stood like that for a long time, him just holding her, stroking her, soothing her.