The Raven Wolf King: Wolfless novel Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Valeria

“Raphael?” I complain.

When we’re in his room, he throws me on his bed. The book falls to the floor.

Watching me as I maneuver myself to sit up, he takes his shirt off and then begins unbuckling his pants. His eyes stare at me as if I were his prey. There’s something raw about him right now, and I like it.

When his pants are undone, he pulls me by the legs all the way until I’m at the edge of the bed. “Come here.” His voice is so low and gruff.

Picking me up, he hooks my legs around him and kisses me, stealing the air from my lungs until neither of us has any breath left. When we part, he throws me on the bed again, but this time he rips the button of my pants when he forcefully opens them. He holds my hips, and I ready myself for him to take my pants off, but instead, he turns me around and bends me over the edge of the bed. I try to get up, but he holds my hair in his fist and pins me in place with my cheek pressed against the mattress.

He’s rough, and I love it. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I don’t have much experience, and what little I’ve had was dull and forgettable. This is different.

He lowers himself, his breath brushing my ear. “Stay still, Valeria,” he whispers. The sound of his voice makes me want to purr. It’s velvet and fire all at once, pure pleasure to my ears.

I feel him lowering my pants down to my knees, and then I feel his warm, soft, yet stiff member slide up and down my entrance. It makes my insides burn and pulse with anticipation. He plunges into me, his girth slithering in and stretching me. I moan, one hand clutching his grip in my hair, the other fisting the blanket beneath me. My knuckles whiten as I hold on, the fabric twisting under my fingers. Every nerve in my body is alive, straining between restraint and surrender, the sound escaping me raw.

He fucks me so hard it almost feels like he’s punishing me, and maybe it would be punishment if I weren’t loving it.

I moan so loudly the birds on the window ledge scatter, startled into flight.

“You are mine. Say it,” he whispers, voice low and commanding.

I refuse. Silence is my answer.

He slows, drawing out the moment, a long moan escaping his lips. “So good…”

He pulls out of me and swiftly turns me around, laying me on the bed. His lips press against mine as he takes my pants completely off and then works on my shirt and bra. Gripping my legs, he spreads them and bends the knees, positioning them to each of his sides, and then enters me again.

“Ah!” I moan.

He groans, liking my sudden gasp.

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I wrap my arms around him, my palms pressing into the hard lines of his back. My fingers trail upward, then scratch lightly, just enough to draw a shiver from him. A low, unrestrained moan escapes his lips.

“Say it,” he whispers, breaking from my lips for only a breath.

Again, I stay silent.

He lifts himself, parting from my lips, holding my hips, and thrusts faster and harder. I have nothing to grip now but his hands.

I uncontrollably moan as my body bounces with his vicious hip thrusts, my breasts jiggling wildly. Arching my back, I begin to feel it. I’m about to come undone.

“Say it!” he grunts.

“No!” I moan, readying myself for my fix.

But the bastard stops and leans over my body, fixing his mouth close to my ear. “You are mine. Fuck everyone else. No one else can have you.”

“Please… don’t stop.” I move my hips on him, trying to get him to start again, desperate to finish myself.

“I don’t want you to beg. I want you to say it.” He looks into my eyes. His lips tremble. He wants me, and he’s suffering just as much as I am, but he’s a hard–headed man, and he has me where he wants me.

I grind my teeth in desperation and anger. Through clenched teeth, I whisper, “I am yours.”

He holds my chin. “All yours. Say it.”

“All yours! Fuck me!” I cry out.

He crashes his lips on mine and begins to pummel me. I scream so loud I almost fear someone coming in here to check who’s being murdered. Heat coils low in my stomach, spreading outward until my whole body trembles with it, sending shivers racing through me, leaving me breathless and undone.

He suddenly grabs me by the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling me in a ferocious kiss that muffles my scream and silences his loud grunt.

Never have I been done like this. His thrusting slowly comes to a stop, but he continues to kiss me, leaving me out of breath. When he finally parts, I inhale deeply. His lips slide to my neck, and then I feel him smelling my skin, gliding to my shoulders, breasts, and then back to my neck.

“I want to imprint all of your scent in my memory,” he whispers.

My pulse hammers against my ribs, faster than I can control. His words unsettle me, because they’re the kind of things mates whisper to each other, things meant for mates.

“I am not your mate,” I tell him.

“Oh yes, you fucking are,” he whispers with a growl.

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“Stop being delusional.” I sit up, looking for the book, trying to make sure it isn’t ruined, and thankfully, it isn’t.

“You ain’t going anywhere.” He holds me by the waist and brings me to his chest, locking me in a hug.” You’re staying here all day, and I’m going to do you over and over.”

I laugh. “Sorry, but you don’t tell me what to do. Remember that.” I lean out of the bed and pick up the book, putting it on the pillow as I lie down and open it.

Raphael shifts onto his side, resting his head in his hand, his elbow sinking into the bed. “Are you looking for something specific in this book?”

“Not really.” I turn the pages, looking at the handwritten cursive ink.

Raphael caresses my shoulder, watching me.

“The Battle of the Fallen.” I skim through the pages and begin to read the book out loud.

“The Raven Wolf King was locked in battle with the High Wolf King. Early 15th century. The battle raged for days until both monarchs finally met in battle, locking in a gruesome sword fight. Ravens flocked to their master as they waited to do his bidding. The High Wolf King fought with valor with all odds stacked against him, for the Raven Wolf King was known for his resilience and invincibility–the devil man was known not to die.” I read the rest fast, skipping small parts until I reach the end of the page.

“The light and the darkness each plunged their swords at the heart of their opponent-“It’s as if I can see it, as vivid as if I had been there. And maybe I did see it all. The vision comes back to me. I saw this scene when I di–when I almost died.

“Both men fell that day, and so it was known as The Battle of the Fallen.”

“Are you into war and battle stuff now?” Raphael asks.

“Maybe I am. You don’t know me.”

“I don’t, but I want to.” He gets closer and kisses my shoulder.

Why does he have to say that?

I realize I might be playing a dangerous game here. I’m trying to make this only carnal pleasure, but it isn’t easy playing the cold queen. My heart wants to melt and feel.

I clear my throat. “This is all about the battle that was fought, and I guess I’ll read it in detail later, but I was hoping there was more on the Raven Wolf King. Like, who was he really?”

“Why do you want to know about that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Just curious.” I’m not about to tell him that I seem to have had a vision of him when I tried to commit suicide.

I sigh, closing the book and putting it on the table. Raphael’s arms wrap around my waist and pull me into his body.

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“Stay,” he whispers in my ear and catches my lips with his before I can complain.

His lips want to ignite me, skin burning where his hands press, every nerve sparking alive.

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Everything in me is saying yes. I want to spend the whole day with him, but that could result in my getting attached. I’m sure that’s his game. He wants me to fall for him. And if I surrender, what’s to stop him from growing bored and tossing me away as if I never mattered?

I force myself to break away from the delicious kiss and give his chest a light pat. “Na, I’m good,” I say with a grin as I pull back. “That was really good, though. We should definitely do it again.” Good is an understatement. It was the best damn sex I’ve ever had.

He grunts, kissing my neck and turning to get up. “You’re only using me for my body.”

I giggle as I scoop up my clothes, slipping them back on piece by piece until I’m put together again. With the book clutched in my hand, I make a dash for the door just as he’s tugging at his zipper. But before I can escape, his hand catches me, pulling me back from freedom. “You’re not leaving me without a goodbye kiss.”

My insides twist at how devastatingly good he looks when he’s disheveled. I can’t resist, I kiss him, giving in exactly as he wants. The taste of him, the heat of it, makes restraint impossible. The kiss alone leaves me aching to strip everything away again. But I pull away, take a deep breath, and bolt out of the room. Yet, that was it. I was hooked. I spent the whole damn day locked in my room, thinking about him so much I ended up taking three hot showers, trying to shake it off. The book? Didn’t even glance at it.

Nobody bothered me either. I could hear Father and Meryl in Jade’s room, trying to calm her down while she cried over the events of today with Grimm.

The day burned by fast, and by the time night came, I was exhausted. The second I closed my eyes, sleep took me and I dreamed.

***

I fly, circling the castle, spotting details that could never be seen from the ground. I spot light on one of the towers, and it draws me in, but I’m not the one in control. It’s as if I’m a spectator.

I look through the window and see Grimm with his friends in the old, hidden tower. Grimm comes to the window as if he spots me. He raises a closed fist, only his index finger extended. Instinct takes over. I climb onto it, and only then do I notice the talons gripping his skin. Raven’s feet. My feet. I am a raven again.

This is impossible! It feels so real. What the hell is this? This is a dream, it has to be.

“Eww, what is it with you and those animals?” one of the guys in the tower asks Grimm.

“They’re smart, and I like to feed them so they know me,” Grimm replies.

“Aren’t they known as rats with wings?” another asks.

“I think you’re referring to city pigeons, and I don’t share your sentiment.”

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Elsie’s lips tremble as she looks in my direction. “I’m scared of them now. They attacked us at the ball.”

I miss the rest of the conversation when a sound from the forest pulls me away. I act before I realize I’m moving. I launch into flight, weaving through the trees until I settle on a branch.

Again, I’m not in control. It’s as if I’m trapped inside a raven’s body, seeing through its eyes, hearing through its ears.

I focus, narrowing in on a rustle from the undergrowth. A naked, dirt–streaked man emerges from a bush, his gaze fixed on the castle. Then the shadows behind him shift There is movement. More men. Dozens. Enough to be called a small army.

“When?” one speaks, sounding impatient.

“We’ll attack when the moon peaks and all the women and children are sleeping in their beds, feeling safe and oblivious to what is coming.” The man laughs with excitement.

One of the men looks up at the trees. “What is it with all these fucking crows?”

“They’re ravens,” another responds. “Height, wings, beak, and tail are different from crows.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” The angry man lifts his hand and throws a rock. I watch myself fall to the ground as all other ravens fly away, startled.

***

I jolt awake, gasping for breath. “What… was this? Impossible!” I jump up and rush to the window, eyes scanning the forest. Ravens burst from the trees, wings beating frantically as if something deep inside has scared them off.

“This can’t be real! No! No…”

And if it is? If it is, and I don’t say anything? What then?