"Including me."
Those two words hung in the candlelit air like smoke, curling around me, refusing to dissipate.
I couldn't move. Could barely breathe.
She'd said it so quietly, like a secret she'd never meant to let out, then went right back to typing as if she hadn't just detonated a bomb in my chest.
My eyes were glued to her.
The way her short black hair brushed her cheek when she leaned forward. The soft rise and fall of her chest under that oversized shirt. The faint flush on her pale neck that she was trying so hard to hide.
She has a crush on me.
Raven.
The girl who built walls out of silence and darkness. The girl I'd been obsessed with since the moment she looked up from spilled ink with storm in her eyes. She felt it too.
And she'd just admitted it.
Minutes dragged by. Maybe ten. Maybe twenty. The only sounds were her soft typing and the crackle of candles.
Then, barely a whisper: "Stop staring at me."
I hadn't even realized I was leaning forward, elbows on my knees, completely lost in her.
"May I kiss you?" The question came out rough, unplanned, raw.
She froze.
Her fingers stilled on the keys. Slowly, she looked up. Gray eyes met mine—wary, guarded, but not cold.
"Why?" she asked, voice soft, almost curious. "You don't want to fuck me?"
My mouth went dry.
Heat slammed through me, straight to my cock.
"Of cour—"
"Time's up," she cut in, closing the laptop with deliberate calm. "Come tomorrow. Same time. Out now."
She thought she could end it there.
I stood.
Crossed the small space between us in three steps. She didn't move. Didn't back away. Just watched me come, lips parted, breath quickening.
I cupped her face—both hands, thumbs brushing the sharp line of her cheekbones—and kissed her.
Not soft.
Not asking.
Claiming.
She tasted like black lipstick and surprise and everything I'd been starving for.
She kissed back—shy at first, then fierce.
My hands moved on their own. Slid down her throat, over her shoulders, and cupped her breasts through the shirt—full, heavy, perfect. Thumbs brushed her nipples, already hard.
She moaned softly into my mouth.
Then broke the kiss, hands on my chest, pushing weakly.
"Hold your horses, pretty boy," she whispered, voice trembling but firm. "Not today. Try your luck tomorrow."
She took one step back.
I snapped.
My hand shot out, wrapped around the back of her neck—rough, possessive—and yanked her close. I kissed her throat, hard, teeth scraping skin.
Lower.
Lower.
Sucking marks into her collarbone, her chest.
"Elliot—wait—"
I didn't.
I threw her onto the bed. She landed on her back with a soft gasp, eyes wide.
I was on her in a second—kneeling between her thighs, ripping that oversized shirt over her head.
Her breasts spilled free—pale, perfect, nipples dark and begging.
I attacked them.
Mouth on one, hand on the other—sucking, biting, licking until she was arching off the bed, fingers twisted in my hair, soft whimpers escaping despite how hard she tried to stay quiet.
I moved lower.
Yanked her lace panties down her legs, tossed them aside.
She tried to close her thighs. "Elliot—"
Too late.
I buried my face between them.
Licked one long, hungry stripe up her center. She cried out—sharp, surprised.
I didn't stop.
Tongue circling her clit, sucking, thrusting inside her, devouring every drop.
She tasted like sin.
Her hips bucked. Hands fisted the sheets. Quiet moans turned louder, broken.
I felt her shatter—thighs clamping around my head, body shaking as she came hard against my mouth.
I didn't give her time to recover.
Stood, stripped fast—shirt, jeans, boxers gone.
My cock sprang free, thick, aching, already leaking.
Her eyes went wide.
"What's that?" she breathed, half-panic, half-want. "Elliot, I can't take that. Wait—"
I didn't.
Climbed over her, lined up, and thrust in—one deep, brutal stroke.
She screamed.
Tight. So fucking tight. Hot and wet and perfect.
I froze when I felt the resistance give, saw the flash of pain in her eyes.
Blood. Just a little. Smearing where we joined.
I waited, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to hers.
"You okay?" I rasped.
She nodded, shaky, tears in her eyes but fire still there.
Before she could say more, I started moving.
Slow at first.
Then harder.