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Wayward Secrets: The Raven Brothers of Fallen Mountain

Page 17

by KT Strange

He’s got one hand wrapped heavy around my breast, shoved up under my bra, dragging his finger-tips over my nipple until it hardens.

  His mouth is lapping down low, his other hand flicking my jeans open, and his tongue follows, wetting my panties. It’s dark. He can’t see them, and I’m at the point I’ve stopped caring. It’s just… waves. Waves of need, of sparks of lust, of wanting to clench down on something, but criminally I’m empty, and he’s teasing me. His mouth is just one big tease, wet and hot through the cotton of my underwear, his hand palming my breast over and over.

  I push my hips up against his him, urging him with my fingers.

  “Please,” I breathe, “c’mon, I’ve been so nice, never complaining once about anything ever-”

  “You’re mouthy as fuck,” he says against my pussy, “and nosey. And bossy. I ought to punish you, but that’s more Beau’s thing-”

  That.

  My eyes fly open because that image, suddenly, in my head, does things for me I didn’t expect, ever, at all. I freeze up, and he curses at my jeans, tugging them down my hips, my panties going with them, and he splits me open with two fingers and just licks.

  My head slides back, my eyes close, and god yes.

  He’s right. I can’t say his name. I don’t want to. I’m just breathing, cool air flooding my lungs, trying to combat the rising wave of an orgasm, that distant, trembling feeling that threatens to not arrive at all if everything doesn’t click into place. I’ve never really had someone who was good at this. That…

  “Let go,” Kyron says into me, like he knows what I’m struggling with, or can sense that this is just, too much all at once, but not enough. His hand grabs mine, and he drags it down between my thighs. I’m wet all over, from his tongue, from my own arousal, and he slicks my fingers through it. “Not too proud to admit you know your own body better than I do,” he murmurs against my thigh, rough cheek with stubble, biting into my sensitive skin. I can’t look down, but I can feel his fingers on mine. “Show me what you like, and I’ll-”

  I swallow and drag my fingers up to my clit. My teeth sink into my lower lip, because I’m so exposed even though it’s pitch black in this cabin, and his fingers follow mine. That first touch has me gasping, both of us together. He mirrors the soft, short strokes, light and fluttery, until I’m wound up so tight that I can’t even breathe.

  He kisses my belly, and abandons my hand, his fingers sinking down low and then sliding inside of me. The instant warmth, the threatening stretch of it, it’s so perfect it almost hurts, and the gasp that catches in my throat melts away as the warm rush of an intense orgasm shudders through me.

  It feels like it’ll last forever, until it’s just too much. I’m bumped off the edge with a sharp jerk and I press my palm against myself, to stop the feeling from being overwhelming. He’s resting against me as my breathing returns, and the sound resumes in my ear. His fingers are still buried inside of me, and he’s just…

  Laying there.

  Breathing me in.

  I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my leg.

  “Delia,” he says, voice ragged, like he’s the one who’s just come all over his hands, “that was fucking beautiful.” My face is hot, but anything that like shame has been chased away. I reach down, needing to feel grounded, needing him to wrap around me, and just… be close. So close until I can feel his heartbeat against mine.

  This is why I’ve never let someone close, because after, I need them right next to me, the intense emotions of what’s broken inside of me too much. He answers my silent request, and slides across the sheet, fingers slipping from me gently. The bed dips as he shoulders in beside me, and I’m being pulled against his chest. He lets me bury my face in his neck, hiding there. His hand traces up and down my spine, and I’m still half dressed, his thumb catching on the soft fabric of my worn-out shirt.

  Suddenly he goes stiff and still, and then sits up. I sit up too, and he puts a hand to my lips. I can smell myself on him, the scent earthy and heady, but it barely cuts through my thoughts as he springs off the bed and goes right for the door. He flings it open, and there, in the doorway, the silhouette of a girl.

  I scramble to pull a blanket up over myself, and reach over to my bedside table to hit the light.

  There, within arm’s reach of Kyron, stands Lacey.

  Book 2 in the Raven Brothers Series is coming soon!

  Pre-Order here:

  Wayward Brothers

  Acknowledgments

  Insert joke about 2020 being a do-over year if we’ve ever had one.

  I just really hope you’re doing okay. That you’re healthy, and not losing your sanity, and that you have enough of everything you need to keep going.

  It’s been… a year. This book was so long in coming. It took forever to just get the story out of me, because it felt locked up in my chest like it’d never emerge.

  Cordelia is a different sort of heroine than I normally write. She’s older. Life’s worn her down and is slowly stealing the people she does and her very existence too. She feels like she is the embodiment of 2020: winding down too slow and too fast at the same time. I hope you found a bit of yourself, your bitter hopes, your dashed dreams, and the slow lift as someone (hot werewolves maybe) step into your world and make it a bit better each day.

  And I can’t wait to share the next book with you, because I’ve never written a murder mystery before, and it is so much fun (but also kinda creepy!!!!!)… so pre-order the next one so I know I did a good job here. <3

  Some big thank you to Jennifer, Chels, and Toritori for beta-reading this to me, CJ for the cover, and you for your patience and giving me grace while this creepy little story took it’s time to unwind from around my heart.

  - Kit

  (KT Strange)

  p.s. I moved into a haunted house in Dallas! It’s super haunted! Maybe I’ll write a series about that next….

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  About the Author

  KT Strange is an internationally best-selling and Top 100 Amazon author from the Great White North. After spending a decade in the music scene babysitting drunk rock-stars, she’s finally ready to settle down and write books inspired by her life on the road with bands and her love of everything paranormal.

  Also she is rather fond of cats.

  ktstrange.com

 

 

 


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