Raven's Revenge: Paranormal Prison Romance (Paranormal Prison Series Book 2)

by Naomi Martin

  I get to my feet and she pulls me into a long, passionate kiss that makes my desire for her surge. It seems like it’s been forever since I’ve felt this kind of intensity from Raven. Not that we haven’t had sex, but for a little while, it’s been less enthusiastic. There was something a little mechanical about it. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this kind of sexual abandon within her.

  My cock is harder than steel and, with a growl, I turn her around. Grabbing hold of her wrists, I pin her hands to the shower wall as I press the tip of my staff against her opening. I can feel the heat from her center washing over me and I roll my hips, pressing myself forward slowly. I part her lips and plunge into her, moaning as I’m suddenly awash in a tingling sensation.

  Raven looks at me over her shoulder, that flirty smile playing across her lips, her crystalline blue eyes seeming to cut straight through me. My heart skips a beat as she runs her tongue suggestively across her lips and pushes herself back onto me, taking me even deeper. She shudders and a moan escapes her.

  “Fuck me, Gray,” she orders. “Fuck me now.”

  Gripping her hips, I start to thrust myself inside of her; the slap-slap-slap of our wet, naked bodies crashing into each other reverberates through the shower stall and echoes through my mind. It’s the sound of passion. Of love. And it fills my heart and soul with as much pleasure as Raven gives to my body.

  Reaching up, I grip her hair and yank her head back. She gasps as I drive myself into her harder and deeper. Sliding my other hand along her ass, I circle around her waist and start to tease her clit with my fingers. She moans and rocks her hips in time with mine, pushing back on me and taking me as deep as she can.

  Raven stutters, making a choked gasp as I play with her clit, tracing circles around it with the tips of my fingers. He entire body is shaking and she calls my name with a tremor in her voice. A wicked grin curls the corners of my lips upward, knowing that she’s close again. And, as I drive myself into her molten core, I feel that familiar pressure building up low inside of me and know that I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer.

  A strangled cry erupts from me when Raven reaches between her legs and grabs hold of the base of my staff. She squeezes it viciously, making me throw my head back and moan so loud, they can probably hear me down in the war room. Not that I care. It all feels too good right now and I’m not stopping until we’re finished.

  Raven keeps hold of my cock, stroking me as I plunge myself into her, heightening the intensity of my pleasure.

  “Yes, baby,” she moans. “Fuck me harder, baby.”

  I do as she commands, tightening my grip on her hair as I start to savagely thrust my hips, powering my cock into her again and again. Our cries echo around us, punctuated by the sound of our bodies crashing together. I feel her tensing up around me, her warm core starting to grip my staff, making her even tighter. I thrust into her one last time and hold myself there, my thick staff filling her up and hitting that most sensitive spot deep within her.

  Raven throws her head back and cries out, calling my name as her entire body starts to tremble wildly. She reaches back and grabs my arm, her nails biting into my skin. Raven pulses around my cock and I grit my teeth, wanting the rush of warmth that’s flooding my body to stop. To hold off, extend this moment for as long as I can.

  But it’s too late. I’m too far over the precipice of pleasure and I feel myself burst. I erupt inside of her, thick streams of my seed gushing into her. She uses her inner muscles to grip my shaft, milking every last drop out of me, and a choked, drawing a long, throaty growl out of my throat. Raven and I remain frozen as we are for long moments, locked together in our passion as our bodies tremble, both of us wrapped in a thick bubble of ecstasy.

  Slowly, the moment fades and, as I grow soft, I slide out of her. Raven turns around and slips her arms around my waist, burying her face into my chest, seemingly content. She shivers, so I turn her around, letting the warmth of the water rain down over her. She sighs contentedly, a small smile curling her lips.

  She looks up at me, her eyes—bluer than the Caribbean Sea—glittering with a warmth and a sense of happiness that’s been missing so long, my heart actually stumbles over itself to see it again. I lean down and place a soft, chaste kiss on her full lips. Having her clinging to me and holding me so tight, that genuine smile on her face again, makes me feel like all is right with the world.

  “I’m glad to have you back,” I say.

  “I’m glad to be back,” she replies. “I feel more like myself today than I have in months.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods. “I do.”

  “And what’s stirred this change?” I ask.

  “It’s something I want to talk to you and the boys about.”

  “Ominous.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe a little.”

  We both fall silent for a long moment, simply letting ourselves soak in the feelings that are flowing between us. No words really need to be spoken. Our bodies, our hearts, and our minds just seem to know. Perhaps it’s the bond that’s existed between us since the Joining, or perhaps it’s simply that hearts that are true recognize each other and need no words to communicate.

  “I love you,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  “And I love you,” I respond. “With everything in me.”

  Chapter Five

  Raven

  I walk out of my room, pulling my shirt down, to find Zane and Elliot sitting on the sofa in the common area. My body is still tingling and I can’t seem to keep the awkward smile off my face—a smile that only grows more awkward when Gray comes out of his room, pulling on his own shirt. I do my best to avoid looking at him, but my eyes find his anyway and the air between us crackles with tension.

  Zane zeroes in on me immediately, giving me an intimate smile that makes my insides melt and, at the same time, burn with desire. His eyes glitter and I can see in his suggestive little smile that he knows what Gray and I did this morning. He doesn’t even have to say a word, it’s just something in his expression.

  “Hey, good morning,” Elliot says, finally looking up from his tablet. “How are you, Raven?”

  “Judging by that rosy glow in her cheeks, I would venture to guess that she’s fine,” Zane teases.

  Elliot turns to him. “What do you mean?”

  Zane laughs and shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  “What did I miss?”

  Gray and Zane laugh and tease Elliot—the purest and most naive of our little group. He’s grown a lot over the time we’ve been together. He’s changed. But he’s still managed to retain that core of naivete that makes him so damn adorable.

  If there weren’t spots of color in my cheeks before, there are now as I feel my face heating up. I glance at Zane and he gives me a knowing smirk, making the fire in my face burn even brighter. I turn away from him, cursing his abilities, but still can’t manage to subdue the tingling along my skin or keep the smile from my face.

  Nor should I have to.

  It’s been a long while since I’ve felt as aroused as I do right now. And not just sexually. I feel alive. Everything around me seems so much more vibrant and vital. The fire inside of me, which had burned down to little more than embers as recently as yesterday, seems to have been rekindled and is currently raging like an out-of-control forest fire in my belly.

  I’ve missed this side of me. I know the boys have missed this side of me, too, though they’ve been good enough to not pressure me, or make me feel guilty about closing myself off. Just as I don’t know for certain why I’ve pulled away, I don’t know exactly what it is that’s awakened me. All I know is that for the first time in months, I feel alive. Like, really alive.

  I think the talks I had with both Dora and Zane last night have helped put some things into much needed perspective for me. It’s helped me identify where I’m at in my own head versus where I want to be. It’s also helped me come back to the realization that I have three amazing men
in my life who love me unconditionally, and that I have neglected them. I didn’t intend to pull away from them. It was an unintended consequence of withdrawing into myself.

  Elliot looks at the boys, then turns his eyes to me. A small crease forms between his eyebrows, the one he always gets when he’s trying to figure something out. He looks me up and down, back to the boys, then back to me again.

  “You seem… different,” he says. “It might be weird to say, but you seem happier. Lighter.”

  “She just needed a little attitude adjustment. Needed the ol’ pipes cleaned out proper,” Gray says, a cocky smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”

  Elliot finally seems to get it and stares at me for a long moment, seemingly happy that he was right about me acting different. Zane rolls his eyes but chuckles. Feeling totally mortified, I channel a small thread of air and shoot it at Gray, knocking him off the arm of the chair he was perched on.

  He hits the ground with a hard thump and a grunt that sets Zane and Elliot laughing, clapping their hands like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever seen. Gray gets back to his feet and laughs along with them, that cocky smile still on his face.

  Zane stands. “We should go,” he says. “Dora wants to see us.”

  “Another run so soon?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Not sure. Probably.”

  “No rest for the wicked,” Gray says.

  We follow Zane out of the suite and to the bank of elevators, taking the car down. The hotel is only five stories above ground and is nice, though it obviously caters toward a more rural clientele, with the heads of various animals mounted on the walls, and an almost log cabin/hunting lodge motif.

  The chime sounds and the doors slide open. Elliot takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze as Zane and Gray step out.

  “It’s nice to see you back,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you.”

  “And I’ve missed you, too.”

  I give him a quick peck on the lips and a smile, then lead him out of the elevator. We walk through the lobby and to a conference room. Though the hotel mostly houses the Breakers, there is a wing of rooms kept aside for actual guests; not that Meridian has a thriving tourist industry.

  The hotel was built a long while back, when some investors had the bright idea they’d be able to turn it into a mecca for those looking to escape city life. A place where families could come to vacation amongst nature. And there is definitely plenty of natural beauty around the place. But it never really took off, and Meridian remains a very small, very anonymous community. Likely to the delight of the residents, who probably didn’t want this place overrun with vacationers anyway.

  I don’t know who owns it now. All I do know is that whoever bought it is sympathetic to our cause. I can only guess that whoever it is might be a super themselves, and/or foresaw what was coming and the need for safe houses for our kind. Whoever it is predicted the need to have an infrastructure in place to not just fight back, but to shepherd supers who only want to live their lives to a place of safety.

  We are given food. Shelter. Clothing. A safe place to stay and a community to call our own. We’re given safe passage if we so choose, and we’re given whatever material goods we need to fight if we stay. We can come and go as we please, and we aren’t pressured for anything. And for that, I’m grateful. It’s why I’ve chosen to stay with the Breakers all these months. It’s why I fight for them, to ensure others have the same opportunities I was given.

  On the far side of the conference room, a large fireplace is flanked by tall, ornately carved bookcases on either side. Gray walks to the one on the left and pulls on a silver candlestick. There is a sharp click and the bookcase silently swings outward on well-oiled hinges, revealing the elevator behind it. We all step into it and Zane pulls the bookcase closed.

  It locks with the same sharp click, and only then does the car begin to move downward, into the heart of this facility. Whoever owns this place had managed to construct a massive installation beneath the ground. It has room for several thousand supers to live. And some choose to live below ground. It’s got medical and research centers, as well as training areas. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of the Pit. Except this place is used for good, rather than evil.

  When the car stops, we all get out and head for the war room. I can feel the eyes on us from the people who stop their training out on the sparring floor to turn and watch us pass. While relationships down here aren’t uncommon, seeing a foursome is. We’re kind of a spectacle when we walk around, and the way people stare at us makes me feel uncomfortable. Some of them look at me like they think I’m a whore, or trash, or something. Not all of them. Not even a majority of them, honestly. I feel like the vast majority of the Breakers look at me with respect. But there are enough that their air of judgment is stifling and weighs heavily on my shoulders.

  It angers me because I expect that sort of perception from the outside world. I expect that normals would look at us and see nothing but monsters. Freaks. But to know that sort of judgment is coming from my own people—all of us outcasts from society—hurts my feelings. And it simply reminds me that in any culture and any society, there will always be those who seek to assert themselves as dominant. And those who think there always needs to be somebody beneath them on the rungs of the social ladder.

  The clear glass doors to the war room slide shut behind us with a pneumatic hiss. Dora is seated at the head of the long, glossy black table in the center of the room, staring at her tablet. She looks up at us, then gestures for us to sit down. We all take our seats on the side of the table that faces the glass wall that overlooks the training areas beyond, and wait for her to begin.

  “So, we’ve a job for you,” she says, her eyes glued to mine.

  “Another convoy?”

  She looks down and frowns. “Not this time. Not for you,” she says. “This job’s a little bit different and it’s…”

  Her voice trails off and I look at her for a moment. Dora isn’t shy and will always speak her mind, but something about this is making her hesitate. It’s curious—and worrisome. I exchange looks with the boys and they seem to be picking up on the tension, as well. We all remain silent, though, and finally, Dora raises her head, her expression one of grim resolve.

  “It’s a specialized job and it’s for you alone, Raven,” she finally says.

  “For me alone?”

  She nods. “Yeah. We don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves than we have to. This has to be done quickly, and as quietly as possible,” she says, then nods to the boys. “The only reason I’m letting you three sit here is that she’ll tell you anyway. Even if I asked her not to.”

  “I don’t keep anything from them.”

  Dora gives me a wan smile. “I envy you,” she says softly. “I don’t remember the last time I actually trusted somebody enough to be that open with them.”

  This is a different side of Dora than I’ve ever seen. For one thing, she’s not being anywhere near as salty as she usually is. And her remark about not trusting people enough to be open with them… it’s almost like she’s expressing a bit of vulnerability for the first time since I’ve known her. But then, as if she realizes it, Dora seems to fold in on herself and her expression hardens. That vulnerability is stripped away, and we’re left looking into the careful mask of cold indifference she normally wears. It’s a stunningly fast transition, but the fact that I now know she’s got a warm, beating heart inside of her—so to speak, anyway—it thaws a little bit of the ice I’ve kept between us.

  “So, what’s the job?” I ask.

  She shifts in her seat and suddenly looks uncomfortable, her mask of indifference slipping away. This barrage of actual, human emotion from her takes me aback. It’s so foreign that I’m not quite sure how to handle it.

  “There is a man—he’s a senator, actually—and we need him… killed,” she says softly. “He’s part of the anti-supers faction in Congress that keeps Villa’s unit supplied and funded, and
he harbors great animosity for those like us.”

  A sick, queasy feeling starts to churn in my belly as I can already see where this is going. I say a silent word, hoping I’m wrong, but the look in Dora’s eye tells me I’m not.

  “This man is set to be named the chairman of a new and powerful committee in the Senate called the Homeland Defense Committee—and if he is allowed to become chair, that will spell all kinds of trouble for us,” she says gently. “The goal of this man, and others like him, is to first expose us, making our shadow war with them very public. They intend to show us to be a terrorist threat, and then eradicate us. If he has control of this committee, he’ll have the means to do it.”

  I blow out a long breath and let the implications of what she’s saying—of what she’s asking me to do—sink in. She wants me to assassinate somebody. Kill him. This isn’t a battle out in the middle of nowhere with casualties being taken on both sides. It isn’t a fair fight. What she’s asking is flat-out murder.

  I know it shouldn’t make a difference. Killing is killing, and I’ve killed plenty of people. I’ve been able to justify it as being a case of it being either them or me. I felt personally threatened and had simply reacted. But this would be something different. The act of coldly and calculatingly planning out a murder is not the same thing as stepping into the middle of a pitched battle.

  “We have somebody in position to take control of that committee who is more… sympathetic to our cause,” Dora adds.

  “You can’t be serious,” Elliot snaps.

  “Unfortunately, I am,” Dora replies. “The order came in early this morning.”

  “Who gave the order?” Gray asks, his voice tight with anger.

  “Leadership,” she answers cryptically.

  “And who is leadership?” Gray presses.

  “The people who provide the shelter and security we enjoy here,” she says. “The people who feed, clothe, and equip us—”