The Raven (The Florentine #1)(130)

“You’re exquisite. I want you. But what we share tonight is a different kind of sustenance.” He toyed with her hair, watching as the long strands spilled over his fingers.

“But I love you. I want to give you this.”

He kissed a lock of her hair before releasing it. His arm wrapped around her waist and he lifted her, winding her legs around his hips.

“Let me love you, Raven, with my heart.”

She blinked hard, if only to keep the rising emotion at bay. Now was not the time for tears, not when he was gifting her with everything she had ever wanted.

She kissed him deeply as his hand slid from her breast to her ribs and down to her backside. Raven held her breath as he lifted her skirt and placed his palm against the outside of her thigh.

He made a circle against her skin before squeezing her hip. A single finger traced the top of her panties before descending between her legs.

She moaned her appreciation as he touched her over the silk. In an instant, her underwear was gone and he was stroking her, testing her.

Her mouth found his ear. “Please.”

His hand moved between them, removing the barriers. Then, with eyes fixed on hers and an animalistic sound, he plunged inside. Raven clutched at his shoulders, focusing on the pleasurable sensation.

His movement wasn’t slow. He thrust deep, his hands underneath her backside, lifting and squeezing her. Raven flexed her hips, trying to bring him farther inside her.

She clung to him, their chests rubbing against one another.

He was rumbling in her ear. Her pants and cries spurred him on.

Deeper and faster, he moved at a feverish pace.

She couldn’t keep her eyes open, focusing only on the feelings he elicited from her, the way every stroke, every movement, sent her ascending higher and higher to bliss.

Her heels dug into his ass as she gripped him with her thighs, well beyond words.

Suddenly she was gasping and crying out.

Her body stiffened in his arms and still he continued, thrusting and swirling inside her. When she grew limp and buried her face in his neck, only then did he allow himself to climax.

Her name was the first word on his lips.

Raven was breathing heavily, her heartbeat racing.

William listened to the foreign and rhythmic sounds of his lover’s body, knowing with pride that he’d caused those reactions.

They stood for what seemed like an age, the young woman and the centuries-old vampyre, holding one another desperately on a rooftop that overlooked the Uffizi.

They were the most improbable of lovers. Yet it was manifest to both they were indeed a perfect match.

Raven’s heart was full, her mind relaxed, her body sated.

“Now that you’ve given me your gift, I must give you mine.” He stroked her cheek, his eyes alight.

Raven placed her hand flat against his chest, over his heart. She felt the strange rhythm under her palm, and the almost frightening silence.

“This is the only gift I want.”

“You have it.” He lifted her fingers and kissed them, one by one. “But you’ll want the other gift I’m going to give you.”

He extricated himself from her body, placing her on unsteady feet.

He righted his trousers and withdrew a handkerchief from the pocket. Supporting her with an arm around her waist, he lifted her skirt to press the linen between her legs.

Raven leaned into him and sighed. “This is my gift,” she said quietly. “The way you touch me, I can tell that you love me. But I’m still happy to have the words.”

“I love you,” he whispered. “Defensa.”

She smiled against his shoulder. “That’s a new name. I’m no longer wounded; I’m a protector.”

“You’ve always been a protector.” He kissed her forehead before tracing the faded scar that marred it. “You told me once that no one ever defended you. Tonight, I will.”

“What?” She pulled back, confused.

William tossed the handkerchief aside.

“I promised to give you justice. I keep my promises.”

A wave of anxiety passed over her. “William, what have you done?”

He smiled at her slowly. “It’s what I am going to do. Come.”

He pulled her tightly against him and they climbed to the roof, their bodies disappearing into the night like a wisp of smoke.