Page 80 of The Collector

His hands stopped at her hips, steady and sure, pulling her forward until she perched at the edge of the bed.

Her body paused there—bare, waiting, exposed.

She looked down and found him on his knees, watching her as if she were something sacred.

His fingers slid inside—long, deliberate—pushing deep, stealing her breath and unraveling her composure in one motion.

When his mouth found the inside of her thigh, he lingered there, lips grazing, tongue tracing slow, reverent paths toward her center.

His mouth was velvet, his hums of approval low and resonant, vibrating through her like a promise.

She felt herself tipping, pulled toward the rising wave of need, his fingers deepening their rhythm, coaxing her closer to the edge.

Her hands were grasping at him and then the sheets as she rode the wild waves of pleasure he was creating with his every touch.

Mynx cried out, her body arching as he took her into his mouth—his lips closing around her, sucking with deliberate hunger.

It shattered her last thread of restraint.

She came undone, the sound torn from her throat as release surged through her, raw and unstoppable.

Before she could refocus, she felt the crown of his dick at her entrance.

He pushed in hard, fast, and deep in one motion. It rocked Mynx's body against the bed. He pulled back slowly, inch by inch. Before his need overcame him, he raised her legs, placing her feet on his chest, rolling her upward, before his strokes began again. His thrust was unhinged as he dived deeper. His breaths were frantic and unchained as he lost himself inside her. Mynx grasped at the sheets. At him, lost in her delirium as the wave of a second orgasm crashed into her.

Raven flipped her to her stomach and then onto her knees, forcing her head to the bed. He gripped her hair at the base, the palm of his hand holding her to the bed. Before he became wild and unrestrained, he pushed her to the limits. Stretching her, molding her insides to accommodate his size.

Mynx couldn't think, only feel. And the wild abandon he brought forth in her made her cry out for more. Scream his name as he pushed her past every limit she thought she had. His release came with a roar. His fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her so close to himself that not a breath could pass between them.

Raven's breath was ragged, his body slick with sweat as he collapsed against her, forehead resting between her shoulder blades.

He wrapped his arms around her middle, holding her tightly—as if he needed her to anchor him to reality.

His heartbeat thundered against her spine, wild and uneven.

She lay still, her breath shallow, her body trembling from everything he'd taken—and everything she'd given.

Neither of them spoke.

But in the silence, something shifted. Something permanent.

"Are you ok? I didn't mean to hurt you. I was lost in the moment— in the pull of you."

Raven asked as he pulled his body away from hers.

"More than ok. Deliriously tired but fully sated."

He nodded, relief flickering across his face. But something deeper lingered in his eyes—something that hadn't yet found words.

Raven moved to lie beside her, the sheets rustling beneath his weight. Mynx turned her head, studying him—not the sculpted body, not the sharp lines of his face, but the quiet beneath it all.

He looked different than when he arrived.

Better.

Grounded, somehow. Like something inside Raven had stopped running.

"Can I ask you something"? She spoke. "Why do you call me Butterfly"?