Page 90 of Severed Heart (The Ravenhood Legacy #2)

Chapter Forty-Eight

D ELPHINE

Soldier I have gained six pounds! Scans and blood are done and the Doctor says I’m clear to fuck ;)

Laughing at the nature of my text, I add a picture of myself at the top of the hillside and send both off the way my soldier taught me on my new smartphone.

Forever thankful Tyler alerted me to predictive text to save myself the frustration.

Studying the picture as I trek back down the hill, I recognize the most noticeable changes.

Not just in my face, which has plumped and is smoothing drastically because of the magic needles, but of the life inside my smile. That now resides in my eyes.

More and more with each day, I come closer to resembling the woman I was before he left. A woman who harbors hope as well as a renewed sense of dignity. It’s the shame that fills me of how it came to be that I have yet to press past. The truth that I didn’t get to this place on my own.

My frequent therapy with Regina is, at times, so brutal that some days, it threatens to keep me in dangerous places.

Craving numbing sips so badly that during that time, I fear I will break my sobriety.

As Tyler predicted, and I knew well, all has not been cured since I stopped numbing.

In fact, the battles have become harder.

I’m not always such a happy woman. I have days I’m intolerable, especially to myself.

But Regina told me there’s no storybook life for even those most well-adjusted.

That it’s simply the nature of living, which I knew already as truth.

It’s the man who stares at me with love in his eyes—no matter my state—over the kitchen table every morning and across our pillows at night who makes all days worth fighting for.

My want for Tyler’s constant company no less now than it was all those years ago.

My desire to make him happy taking priority over my own when I’m able.

Now, instead of feeling shame for it and pushing him away, I cling to him as he does me.

Finally deciding not to fault myself further for it, and possibly not by giving a rat’s ass about it if I become so co-dependent happy like Layla.

At this point, it’s the relentless sexual torture Tyler has made very good on delivering that now threatens to drive me to an early grave.

Never in my life believing I would have to work so fucking hard to get a man in my bed.

The irony has laughter erupting from me as I walk back down the hillside.

Musing over the fact that the man I’m so desperate for, the only one I’ve felt such desire for, is putting me through so much just to get a fucking sock on our door.

Filling my watering can at the kitchen sink, I bask in the view just outside the window. The days still warm enough for lighter dress, while the leaves continue to drastically change, enhancing the land in a multitude of colors.

Stepping onto the front porch, I begin to water the plants as delicious anticipation races through me of what tonight might bring. Our most recent session of his torturous foreplay taking over my thoughts.

“This kitchen is a dream, Soldier!” I call to where he is in our bathroom while whipping eggs with a whisk. “Even a woman most resistant to cooking could not ignore its allure! I’m determined to master it now!”

“Oh yeah?” he calls back from the bedroom as he dresses.

“Oui, I have never in my life woke and thought, ‘I’m excited to make eggs,’ but here I am, making fucking eggs for my”—I frown—“boyfriend?” I utter low, testing the word.

“You’re what?” he calls back.

“Soldier, I think maybe I’m too old to call a man a boyfriend.” Firing up the stove, I toss a pat of butter into my new frying pan. “And we both know lover is just .. . not true,” I grumble aggravatedly. “Connard.”

“Connard, huh?” Tyler chuckles as I jump out of my skin.

“FUCK!” I turn and push at his chest where he stands directly behind me. “How did you get so close? I didn’t even sense you!”

“Careful, baby, or you’ll be cooking your hair first,” he says, reaching behind me to turn off the gas burner. “And I’ve been doing that trick for years.”

I narrow my eyes. “What trick?”

“Getting this close to you without you aware of it,” he muses, popping a chopped grape from the bowl of fruit I just cut into his mouth.

“Getting close when, like at night, in my room?” I ask, eyes wide.

“No, you assuming asshole, like in the bright light of day,” he whispers, his eyes softening. “And every fucking chance I got.”

“What would you do?”

“Get close enough to get a good whiff of that light musk you wore,” he whispers, his eyes drilling into mine as he slowly lifts me onto the counter.

“I’m cooking,” I remind him, in awe of the ease with which he lifts me.

“What was that?” he asks.

“What?” I utter, distracted by how gorgeous he looks freshly showered, his lashes and hair still damp, darker.

“The perfume you wore.”

“Oh, I don’t remember,” I say honestly. “An old roll-on I think I had in my nightstand from AVON.” I widen my eyes. “An old lady perfume.”

“You’re being a little ageist today. Why can’t you call me your boyfriend?”

“It feels .. . juvenile, non?”

“Maybe it would be juvenile if I were twice your age, and it’s better than connard,” he murmurs. Tucking his fingers into my pajama bottoms and panties, he presses a hot kiss to the bared shoulder that my thin, long-sleeved pajama top hangs from.

“Non, Soldier, do not start this. You will be late for work.”

“It’s a good thing I’m my own boss.” He rakes his lower lip with his teeth as his rapidly heating gaze roams over me. “And it’s a shame about the perfume because it drove me fucking crazy.”

“I’m cooking your breakfast.” I lightly push at his chest as he begins to stroke the sensitive skin he has leveraged into my pajama bottoms and panties.

“I can see that. What’s in there?” He nods toward a bowl.

“Lemon crème,” I utter, getting lost in the length of his lashes. “It’s for your fruit.”

“Can I have a taste?”

“Hmm,” I say, reaching back to put a little on my finger before holding it up to his lips. He sucks it off seductively, closing his eyes just after.

“Not just saying this, it’s really good, baby.”

“I know.” I smile. “This recipe I remember.” I tap my temple. “It’s simple.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his eyes smoldering as he surrounds me. “What else is on the menu?”

“Non.” I shake my head. “Not me today. You aren’t torturing me before you leave for work. I won’t endure that again.”

“You won’t, huh?”

“Non, so don’t waste your effort,” I say, waving him away.

“After getting a good whiff,” he continues, ignoring my dismissal while running his fingers along my skin in an intoxicating sweep.

“Soldierrrr,” I draw out as a pulse begins to beat between my legs.

Ignoring me, his eyes light fire, captivating me as he easily tugs my pants and panties down before tossing them and leaving me half-naked on the counter.

“Tyler—”

“And with a nose full of you, I’d go home,” he confesses, palming my knees apart before standing between them.

“And then what?” I whisper, my voice coated with my building arousal.

The look in his rich brown eyes enough to set me alight as I trace the path of the tongue he drags along his full bottom lip.

Just the sight of him, the stroke of his fingers, and the path of his tongue has me becoming acutely aware of everything else.

His strategy for that intentional and never failing.

It’s the added look of him in his T-shirt and jeans, the curve of his biceps, and the fresh, mixed scents wafting from him that start to undo me.

“Then I’d take my cock in my hand ... and fuck my fist,” he murmurs, gently running his fingers up my thighs as he dips and places a kiss in the divot of my throat. “Thinking about this”—he kisses the divot again—“and this.” He licks along the column of it as I tangle my fingers in his damp hair.

“You are going to be late,” I remind him, my protest pathetic.

“Give me some more of that cream,” he orders, and I do, taking a dollop onto my finger and playfully dotting his nose with it. He cuts his eyes at me as I laugh, and a second later, I’m flattened against the counter as he runs his cream-covered nose through my center.

“Soldier, I can’t take this anymore,” I utter. “I can’t. Okay? I surrender, and since I’ve learned that means nothing to you, just take out your gun and shoot me.”

A chuckle erupts as I glare down at him where he hovers above my bare pussy.

“Days and days of fingers and tongues,” I release through a groan, “nothing but fingers and tongues and—ah,” I cry as he flattens his tongue on my clit before flicking it rapidly. I’m already battered into submission when he pulls away.

“Don’t like my tongue?” he prompts, and I tighten my fingers in his hair before gently clawing his scalp. Keeping my gaze, he begins to leisurely lick me. At this point, I know better than to look away because the second I do, he stops.

“Soldier, please,” I whimper as he brings me close, only to pull away, thrusting a finger inside me before expertly teasing me with it.

“Please, what?”

“Do whatever is in your eyes.”

“I am.” He adds another finger and begins to pump them into me. “So fucking tight.”

Bending over me, he feeds me his tongue first, his kiss a mix of lemon, my own taste, and mint from his toothbrush. Grappling with the strength of his kiss, I clutch and claw as he seduces me with his wicked mouth. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers directly into my ear, “you’re so wet.”

“Please ... can do just, ah,” I climb as his fingers hasten, “do a little,” I whisper as he deposits wet kisses along my neck.

“Just a little what?”

“A little,” I whisper.

“You mean, just the tip?” He chuckles.

“Why is that so fucking funny?” I growl.

“Oof, baby, someone is getting frustrated.”

“I’m not,” I lie.

“Liar.”

“We could fuck a little. Just a little,” I say. “You love stretching my mouth.” I drop my eyes suggestively.