Page 100 of Severed Heart (The Ravenhood Legacy #2)

“It is obvious that...” She gestures between us and rolls her eyes up slightly, the shake in her voice unsettling. Her stunted silence telling me she’s thinking of the right verbiage, which she confirms when she speaks up. “That period of time where everything is new... the phase is over .”

“The honeymoon phase?”

“Yes. That’s what it’s called. Our honeymoon phase has ceased, and you don’t desire me as much anymore.”

“That’s straight-up utter and complete bullshit,” I say, pulling my belt off to ease some of the growing discomfort in my jeans, “but actions speak louder.”

“Forget it.” She shakes her head. “Like I want you to pity me and fuck me now.” She rolls her eyes and begins turning her pillows the way she does as if readying herself to sleep.

“Hey, best friend ,” I clip firmly as her eyes dart to mine. “Remember when you told me to tell you when you’re being a jerk? Well, you’re being a jerk,” I clip as her eyes lift and narrow. “Come here,” I coax as we stand on opposite sides of the end of our bed.

“Non,” she says, rattling with an energy that I don’t like. It’s then I decide to distract her from it, selfishly, too fucking hard for her to think about much else until I undo that robe.

“Just forget it.”

“You sure?” I unbutton my jeans and free my cock, gripping it and stroking it a few times.

“Because I promise there will be no pity in the way I plan on fucking you, and by the way you’re acting, you’re quickly tipping over into punishment fucking.

” Her silvery, blazing eyes glide down my frame as she watches me slowly stroke myself.

“Look at me,” I say, heat licking up my spine. “I’m rock fucking hard for you, and let me be clear, nothing about us will ever be a fucking phase. Come here.”

“Non,” she whispers, her voice too obviously affected as she watches me stroke myself. I fight like hell to hold my grin as her breathing starts to pick up.

“Are your panties off?”

“You do not get to know,” she taunts hoarsely.

“Pretty sure I do know ,” I tell her, loving this side of her.

That, combined with the fight and the fact that she’s openly admitting she’s craving me—nothing has ever felt so good.

All the longing for her paying off endlessly during our time together.

There have been a lot of moments before this one, but this one in particular starts to undo me as my need for her takes over.

It’s the shifting look in her eyes as she stares back at me that has me releasing my cock, certain there’s more going on than I assumed.

“Delphine,” I draw out in a more serious tone, “you have to trust me enough to tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I do trust you. I just don’t like how much I want you right now.

” Her French lilt curls around the words as the caress of them seizes my heart in a vice grip.

“It feels way too much like I need you now, and I don’t think it’s fucking funny.

It scares me to be this co-dependent. I am restless.

Every day, I can’t wait for you to get home.

Every day, I look for you to come up the driveway because I can’t wait to talk to you.

I can’t wait for you to touch me. All of this feels too much. ”

Instantly tucking my raging junk back into my jeans, I stalk over to where she stands and snake my arms around her waist, inhaling her clean scent before plucking her off her feet honeymoon style.

She buries her head in my chest, clearly embarrassed by her admission, as I nudge her chin with my nose to lift it.

“Come on, look at me. We’re so close now.

We’re past embarrassment,” I order, not a trace of humor in my voice.

Even so, she cracks her eyes open to slits, her expression slightly sheepish. An expression I didn’t think she was capable of, but it’s there.

“Don’t ever shy away from saying things like that to me. Not ever. I want it all, as raw as you’ll give it to me, and I want you to hear me say this.” I wait a few seconds to ensure I have every ounce of her attention.

“I need you just as much. I feel the exact same way. We’re in love, Delphine, and so there’s now a line between us flirting co-dependency. But, if the feeling is mutual, and no harm is happening to either of us , there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I don’t want to give a rat’s ass , Soldier,” she mumbles as I bite my lip so hard to keep from laughing that my eyes water. But I manage it because of her confession, which is still warming me from the inside out.

“Keep opening yourself to me this way so I can tell you I feel the same. And know that I race down that driveway to you every fucking night.” I draw her lips into a long, slow, possessive kiss, and she immediately responds, moaning into my mouth.

When I pull away, her eyes are lit with arousal and affection.

Placing her on her feet, I lower an inch of her robe over the skin of her shoulder. Biting down lightly, I slide my hand down the fabric of her robe beneath the matching camisole to find her bare. My smile at the discovery disappears when I see what remains in her expression.

“Delphine, you have got to help me out here.”

“I don’t know why my emotions are so strong , why I feel so much restless ache right now and ... want to fuck so much .”

“I have an inkling of what’s happening,” I tell her, said inkling growing when she claws the back of my neck when I pause my hands. “Do you know you’re around the age you start to enter your sexual peak?”

“T-truly?” she replies as I savor the fact that I’m onto something while tracking every bit of her reaction to my every touch.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, especially when you’re bothered this much, and oh, how I’m going to reap the benefits of this season in your life.” I continue to stroke her over her negligee, loving the look of her under my touch.

“Tyler,” she draws out in slight aggravation, further convincing me that I’m onto something.

“Think about it, baby, maybe your body has healed to the point you’re in a hormonal state that you’re actually supposed to be experiencing, and fuck does sexual frustration look good on you,” I murmur.

“I feel this restlessness so often now,” she whimpers, as my angry cock demands I take action, but I tamp it down to palm her cheek.

“Well, it could also be,” I drawl, “that you are healthy,” I whisper roughly, my lust starting to take over, “and cancer-free for the first time in half a decade, and settled here on the farm, so maybe you need something to sink your teeth into.” I give her a wink. “Besides me.”

“I have thought about a job much lately,” she admits, “I don’t want to be supported. Yes, I agree. I feel done being Betty Crock.”

God help me. I screw my lips up as if in thought as I miraculously tamp more laughter down. “I have a job for you.”

“The club?” she asks, pushing up the hem of my T-shirt as I pull it over my head. She instantly begins to palm my chest, her breaths intensifying as I continue to work her up.

“The timing couldn’t be more perfect,” I tell her honestly. “You already know everything there is to know.”

I’ve spent the last few months relaying the ins and outs of the club, as well as recounting stories of my time in the GRS.

In turn, she’s given me more in-depth details of what she learned on the streets while running for Alain, as well as the backgrounds of the past and present players on the board in France.

“You know it’s right. It feels right, but I’ll sweeten the deal and keep your involvement between us until you’re ready.”

She nods, her eyes lit with the idea even as I palm one of her silk-covered breasts, then the other.

“I’ll ... take ... the ... job,” she gasps, a sheen of sweat breaking over her skin as a needy moan escapes her.

“Okay,” I chuckle darkly, “we’ll talk benefits and 401k after I make you come because now”—I dip and sip on one of her dark nipples through the silk—“I’m fucking starving .”

“Then, hurry up, Soldier,” she whispers heatedly. “We have to get to work.”

Sometime later, we’re soaked in sweat, our connection deep as she cradles my back and neck with one arm, palming the mattress behind her with her opposite hand for support as she takes what she needs.

It’s ecstasy fucking the woman I love—have loved for so long. My need never to be satiated. She’s got it so wrong at the slightest notion I could ever tire of her. I do my best to show her as my chest goes raw, giving me no choice but to voice it.

“Forever,” I whisper against her parted lips.

“Forever,” she whispers back instantly.

I feel the truth of that vow everywhere because there’s no honeymoon period when you find such a hypnotic and intoxicating connection with someone to the point that it feels spiritual.

Even with as little experience as I have in relationships, I’m acutely aware of how lucky we are.

Some part of me believes it’s a reason for her restlessness as well. It’s too good. Too perfect.

But just as I start to get lost in her, a haunting whisper in the back of my mind tries to work its way into my psyche, warning me there will be a price to pay for this perfection.

Reminding myself that trauma has a way of haunting your present with these warnings, I bat it away and dismiss it for what it is—fear.

Instead, embracing our surreal connection before utterly losing myself in her silk-covered love.