Raven didn't know how long he sat there holding Savannah. Nor did he care. Nothing had ever felt as right as having her body pressed against his. The weight of her head against his shoulder. The steady beat of her heart next to his. She was so small and fragile. Completely vulnerable as she slept in his arms.

Every protective instinct he possessed demanded that he hold her close and never let her go. His heart was in complete agreement. Hell, even his cock was nodding confirmation. But his head had a problem with it. Because keeping her with him meant dragging her into the cesspool of filth he was forced to wallow in.

And that shit wasn't happening.

Savannah was a trust fund baby from a prestigious, influential family. She was also a beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated woman and a completely respectable member of society. She deserved better than to be saddled with a low life OMC president with criminal ties and blood on his hands.

Sighing with regret over what could never be, he stood and eased her down onto the couch. She grumbled a complaint in her sleep and shifted onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest. A bittersweet smile on his lips, Raven pulled the throw off the back of the couch and gently draped it over her.

Returning to the kitchen, he pulled a playlist up on his phone and connected it to the Bluetooth speakers mounted in the ceiling. Soft jazz played as he checked his messages and saw a text from his Veep. He walked into the garage so he wouldn't disturb Savannah and called him back.

Raven saw red when he learned that Snake had shown up at the clubhouse claiming to be their official liaison with the Org. The fucker probably thought that his connections would save his ass. That theory was about to be proved wrong. "Put him in chains and leave him for me," he commanded and hit end.

Yeah. He had plans for Snake. But first, he needed to make sure his woman was taken care of. That meant feeding her dinner and getting her settled for the night. Then he'd eliminate the danger to her once and for all. While Savannah slept safe and unaware in his bed.

Alone.

 

***

 

Savannah had wakened to a heavenly aroma. Raven had been indulging his closet Martha Stewart tendencies again. There was just something romantic about having a man cook for her. Not to mention the soft chenille throw he'd placed over her had been such a thoughtful gesture from such a tough guy.

She was beginning to suspect the big bad biker was a softie at heart.

Which only made him more loveable, dammit.

After an incredible walnut shrimp dinner, she'd insisted on helping him clean the kitchen. As it turned out the kitchen faucet had been a little more high tech than she was used to. Savannah had wound up spraying Raven instead of the pan he was holding. Which had resulted in him removing his wet shirt.

Best accident of her life right there, folks.

The beads of water glistening on his chest had made her want to lick him dry. The hunger must have shown in her expression because his eyes flared with that dangerous heat again. Then his expression hardened. His eyes became cold and detached. His voice almost harsh when he commanded, "Savannah, don't."

Emboldened by her need for him, she asked, "Don't what? Look at you? Want you?" She laughed lightly and admitted, "You'd have more luck getting me up a flight of stairs."

"Jesus fucking God," he muttered viciously and closed his eyes as if he were in pain. "I'm not the kind of man you need."

Cocking her head to the side she asked, "You mean the kind of man who'd rush to my side when I needed help? Or move into another house to indulge me? Maybe you meant the kind who'd hold me when I cried and cover me with a blanket while I slept. Because that's the kind of man I need, Raven."

Those obsidian eyes opened, locked on hers. They weren't cold anymore. The banked heat in their depths was smoldering. "I'm not a good man, darlin'," he growled. "I'm your worst fucking nightmare."

"No, that was Parker," she countered. "You're nothing like him."

"I'm worse."

"Prove it," she taunted boldly and stepped into his space. "Hit me."

He recoiled as if she'd slapped him. "I don't hit women," Raven bit out.

"I know," she said with a triumphant smile. "And you're not as bad as you think. If you were, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

***

A chink in his armor snapped, and Raven backed her against the counter. His hands came down on either side caging her in. "You'd better be glad we are having this convo, darlin'," he growled. "Because if we weren't, I'd bend you over the counter and fuck you till you couldn't walk for a week."

Her breathing hitched. Her pupils dilated. Eyes filled with a raw hunger that set his balls on fire."Yes, please," she said breathlessly.

Just like that, his iron control evaporated like smoke in a breeze. He hauled her into his arms and flush against his body. His mouth devoured hers like the ravenous beast he was. Savannah moaned as her tongue curled around his. Her hands delved into his hair, nails scoring his scalp, shifting his desire into high gear, fishtailing out of control.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He was hot enough to go up in flames. Raven wrenched himself away from her and braced his hands against the edge of the island behind him. The breath was sawing out of his lungs. His heart was trying to hammer itself out of his chest. He had to find some measure of control while he still could.

One look at her desire laden face assured him it wasn't going to happen. Because he was the man responsible for that look. He was the man she wanted. But he had to give her the chance to change her mind while he could still let her. "Last chance, darlin'," he rasped hoarsely. "Walk away while you can."

Those golden eyes narrowed before she grasped the hem of her sweatshirt and whipped it over her head. Savannah threw it on the floor between them like a gauntlet. Goddamn, her feistiness set him on fire. "Shut up and fuck me, Raven," she commanded and hopped up onto the bar with her knees spread wide.

That was one command he had no problem following. But it would not happen on the kitchen counter. A woman like Savannah deserved a bed. Raven closed the space between them, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He slid his hands under her firm little ass and lifted her into his arms.

Her arms locked around his neck as she demanded, "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed," he said as he started walking toward the bedroom.

"What was wrong with the island?" She demanded and looked pissed at the change of plans.

"When I'm through with you neither one of us will have the strength to move," he assured her with a wicked smile. "You'll appreciate having a mattress beneath you instead of granite."

"Yeah, but the whole bend me over the counter line was seriously hot," she pouted.

His woman wanted it wild? Goddamn right he was going to deliver. Raven did a one-eighty and carried her right back into the kitchen while she laughed in delight. "Just remember this was your idea when you have to crawl to the bed later," he warned.

"Then you'd better make it worth the effort," she challenged.

"Keep running that sassy mouth, and you'll get more than you bargained for," he assured her.

"Promises, promises," the little spitfire taunted.

Back in the kitchen area, Raven released her legs and let Savannah do a slow slide down the length of his body. He placed a hand in the center of her chest and gently shoved her back against the wall. Then he dropped to his knees and yanked the body-hugging tights down her legs and off her feet.

She stood before him in a flesh-colored satin bra and panty set. Classically elegant just like the woman who wore them. Too bad she'd never wear them again. Pulling the knife from the sheath on his hip, Raven heard her breathing hitch. That wicked smile firmly in place, he ordered, "Don't move."

***

"Eep!" Savannah squeaked and plastered herself flush against the wall. The flat edge of the blade was cool against her heated flesh as it sliced through the fine satin with a whisper of sound. She barely noticed as her panties fluttered to the floor because Raven had moved on to the front of her bra.

Lord Jesus. The man had sliced her freaking underwear off. The action was dirty, illicit, and oddly enough, darkly erotic. Her eyes never left the hunger displayed on his handsome face as she shrugged the bra off of her shoulders. It joined her panties on the floor, but neither of them even noticed.

Her heart was pounding with anticipation, wondering what he was going to do next. His hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled until she spread her legs apart. Both hands slid up the back of her legs and stopped at the top of her thighs. He leaned forward, and she felt the rasp of his beard scrape against her sensitive inner thigh.

Oh, yeah. It was even better than she'd imagined. Which meant it was pretty damn spectacular. Raven lifted one of her legs and placed her foot on his shoulder, opening her up to him completely. His nose rubbed against her clit and she heard him breathe deep. Her knees went weak at the realization that he had just sniffed her.

"You smell so fucking good," his rough voice praised. "Like sugar and sin. My favorite flavor."

Her head fell back against the wall with a thump when he licked her pussy slowly as if savoring her taste. Again and again, until she whimpered for more. And he gave her more. Raven feasted on her. Ravaged her. The tender torture went on and on until the only thing holding her upright were the hands gripping her hips.

Her body wracked with yet another shattering climax, her hands fisted in his hair, a hoarse cry of pleasure escaped her lips. By the time Raven began to pay homage to her breasts she was wishing she hadn't dissuaded him from the bed. At this rate, she really wouldn't be able to crawl to it when he was finished.

Savannah decided that sleeping on the floor was a small sacrifice compared to the pleasure she was receiving. She was on sensory overload, and nothing had ever felt as good. He gave her no respite between orgasms. No chance to recover. Raven owned her body and controlled her pleasure. He was completely ruthless.

She freaking loved it!

When he finally stood upright, his rock hard body pressed into hers, his mouth crashing down on hers with fierce hunger. From somewhere she found the energy to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Her body undulated against his. She'd become a wanton creature, shameless in her desire.

"Raven, I need you," she pleaded when he buried his face in her neck. Gasped with pleasure as his teeth raked across her flesh.

"Fuck," he bit out and lifted his head. Eyes on fire with desire were hot enough to singe flesh when they met hers, yet his expression was grim. "I don't have a condom."

That announcement was not what she wanted to hear. Not when he had her so desperate for him that it felt like her body was going to combust spontaneously. "Why the hell not?" She demanded in frustration.

"Haven't needed 'em," he scowled.

Savannah's eyes grew huge in realization. "You normally have unprotected sex?" She squeaked in shocked disbelief.

"I don't normally have sex," he denied heavily.

And that just pissed her off. Because she'd seen him getting a blowjob. In public. Her eyes narrowed, and she shoved him away. All right, she tried to. He didn't move an inch. "You lying asshole," she accused furiously. "I saw you last night, remember?"

"A blowjob is not sex," he denied.

"Are you seriously pulling a Clinton right now?" She demanded indignantly and shoved his chest harder.

Raven grasped her wrists and pinned them against the wall above her head. "Let me rephrase," he bit out and looked just as pissed as she was. "I haven't fucked a woman in ten years. That means my cock hasn't been inside any orifice on a female body except her mouth in a decade."

The realization that he wasn't kidding shocked the hell out of her. Because the cock pressed insistently between them seemed to be in perfect working order. Which could only mean, "Oh, shit. You're gay."

"Fuck no," Raven barked and looked furious at the assumption.

Confused, she demanded, "Then why haven't you had sex?"

"Because they weren't you," he bit out.

"What the hell do I have to do with it?" She spluttered in exasperation.

"I saw you on TV when your old man was sworn in. You looked like a ray of sunshine in a sunflower yellow dress," Raven explained. "Every time I touched a woman after that it was you I saw in my head, Savannah. You were the one I wanted, and if I couldn't have you, then no one else would do."

Savannah stared at him in astonishment. As absurd as his explanation seemed, she believed him. Raven hadn't had sex in a freaking decade. Because he'd wanted her. Only her. Her heart took flight and soared into the stratosphere. Then it plummeted like a lead balloon because they still didn't have a condom.

She gave him the evil eye and complained, "You do know you can get an STD from oral sex, right?"

He flashed her a wicked smile and admitted, "Not in my club. When I took over it was rampant with disease. I kicked their nasty asses out and made new rules. Members can't have unprotected sex unless it's with their old lady, the bunnies can't have sex outside the club, and everyone gets tested regularly. We're clean, darlin'."

That was a huge relief. A brilliant smile covered her face as she said, "I'm clean, protected and yours."

***

After a second of stunned disbelief, he shucked his jeans and attacked her mouth. Raven could not believe the gift that had just been handed to him. His brain wanted to take it slow and savor her. His cock was about to explode. If he didn't get inside of her right fucking now, he'd wind up embarrassing himself.

No way in hell he'd waited this long to let sugar turn to shit.

Never releasing his hold on Savannah, he maneuvered them over to the island. He lifted her up onto the granite surface and feasted his eyes on the beauty sprawled before him. His for the taking. "You are so goddamn beautiful," he breathed as his eyes memorized every detail.

Raven grasped her hips, pulled her to the edge and thrust hard. Savannah gasped. Arched her back. Her hands blinding reaching out. For him. Nails scoring his forearms. He pulled back, thrust again. Deeper. Her moan of pleasure was sweeter than any symphony he'd ever heard. He drove deep. Sank home.

Balls deep in her tight, wet pussy.

Sweat broke out on his brow. His eyes crossed. Vision blurred. His pulse was racing. Lungs heaving. His formerly deprived cock was in heaven. Then she moved, tilting her hips up. His tenuous control snapped. Raven lost touch with reality and embraced the fantasy that had played out in his mind countless times.

He pounded into her like a man possessed, and she fucking loved it. His sweet Savannah bucked beneath him like a wild thing. Demanding everything he had to give. He pulled out, flipped her over. Slammed into her from behind. Her nails raked the slick granite. Mewls of pleasure echoed in his head.

Her inner muscles clenched him tighter and tighter. Increasing his pleasure. Escalating his need. Knowing she was close, he wrapped her hair in his fist. Pulled her head back and commanded in a voice raw with emotion, "Look at me, Savannah. Let me see you come." Golden eyes wild with desire locked on his. Her mouth fell open.

Her pussy contracted. Squeezed so tight it was almost painful.

She screamed his name.

Savannah screamed.

His name.

Raven thrust to the hilt. Held himself buried deep. His cock erupted. Her name tore from his throat in a ragged shout. He collapsed over her. Boneless. And so fucking happy he could barely contain it. Lifting himself away, he rolled her over and saw the same stupid smile on her face that he wore.

Pressing a tender kiss to her lips, he said, "Told ya we should've moved to the bed."

"So you did," she admitted without concern and placed a kiss to his chest. "Was it worth the wait?"

He laughed and scooped her into his arms. "Damn right it was. But darlin', we're just getting started. I've got a lot of lost time to make up for."

"Promises, promises," she taunted with a devilish smile.

Yeah, feisty women were his weakness. And he'd been right. Savannah had him on his knees. Right where Raven wanted to be.

 

***

 

Savannah woke after a night of the most intense pleasure she'd ever known and stretched languidly. Her body had delightfully delicious aches and twinges. Her legs still felt like rubber. A satiated smile curved her lips because walking just might take some serious effort. But Lord Jesus, it had been so worth it.

Opening her eyes, she saw Raven sitting on the side of the bed, his head bowed. Needing physical contact with him, she sat up and scooted over, sliding her arms around his lean waist. Leaning forward to press a kiss to his back, she paused and stared at the raven tattoo. Up close she could see the details that she'd missed before.

From a distance, it appeared that bits of feathers were being shed from the tips of its wings, but she realized they were actually miniature ravens. The body of the main bird wasn't solid black either. An intricate design of barren tree branches had been left uncovered throughout, and a small patch of bare skin shaped like a raven soared above them.

Freedom was woven through the bird's tail feathers.

"Oh my God," she breathed in amazement and lifted a hand to touch his warm flesh. "This looks like a Jasper Ravenwood painting."

"That's because Jazz drew the template," he responded.

"Jazz?" She queried absently and couldn't look away from the haunting image.

"If you think Savannah Banana was bad, imagine how much a kid named Jasper got teased," he imparted. "His friends call him Jazz."

"Shut up," she exclaimed and lightly swatted his back. "You know Jasper Ravenwood?"

"Since we were kids," he admitted and looked at her over his shoulder. "We had something in common."

Savannah laughed and finally got around to pressing a kiss against his back. "So he's a tough guy, too?"

He laughed at that. "No. Our common link was the name, Raven."

She rested her chin on his shoulder and asked curiously, "So why is he a recluse? He never appears at his showings and refuses to make personal appearances."

"Because he's a normal guy with a normal life and he wants to keep it that way," Raven informed her. "He does go to his shows, but no one knows it's him. I've been to a few, and they're boring as fuck."

"Neanderthal," she teased and poked his ribs.

"Yeah. That's me," he replied, and his eyes took on that detached look she detested. He shifted sideways and lifted a knee onto the bed to face her. "Last night was a mistake, Savannah."

The breath lodged in her throat. The blood froze in her veins. Her damn heart might have stopped beating. "No it wasn't," she denied.

"A beautiful mistake," he reiterated. "If you knew who I really am, what I've done, you wouldn't have let me touch you."

"Try me," she challenged and was willing to fight for him. For them. Because now that she'd found him, she wasn't about to let him go again. "Tell me all about the ruthless club president and see if I run."

***

Jesus fucking Christ. The woman was just as goddamn stubborn as she was feisty. Making love to her for half the night had been the greatest experience of Raven's life. Waking up and realizing that he had to let her go was the worst. And he'd had a lot of really fucking bad experiences to compare it to.

And here she sat, naked and beautiful in his bed. Looking like a woman well loved. Like a woman in love. His heart rejoiced at the knowledge, but his head rebelled. Because keeping her with him meant pulling her into the life that he despised. The only way to guarantee that didn't happen was to set her free.

Fierce determination filled him at her challenge. Savannah wanted to see his dark side? Fine. He'd show it to her and watch the love fade from her golden eyes. It would fucking kill him, but he was ruthless enough to do it. He'd do whatever it took to make sure that she walked away. Even if it meant she hated him.

He stepped into his biker persona like it was a second skin. His expression became hard and implacable. His eyes cold and detached. His voice was harsh when he responded. "You wanna see the real me? The monster hidden beneath the surface?" He demanded and turned so she could see his back again.

"The tattoo you admire so much is a testament to my sins, darlin'. The little ravens around the edge are tally marks. Every one of them represents someone I killed," he bit out and heard her swift intake of breath. Turning back to face her he said in his coldest tone, "One of them is for my mom."

Her beautiful golden eyes filled with pain, tears leaked down her cheeks. Even though it ripped the beating heart out of his chest, Raven forced himself to keep nailing his own coffin shut. "The day we met, I told you I'd done something bad," he reminded her in a guttural tone. "I blew my mom's brains out. Shot her in cold blood. That's the reason my brother hates me."

"I pretend to be something different than what I am. Try to act respectable. And you bought the act. But that man doesn't exist," he confessed. "Deep down inside my soul is rotten. My heart is black. I'm ruthless to the core. There is no good in me, Savannah. I'm on the highway to hell and there ain't no turning back."

Raven was prepared for her scorn, horror, and outrage at his revelation. What he was not prepared for was Savannah moving behind him, wrapping her arms around him and placing reverent kisses over every tally mark on his back. His heart stuttered. His eyes grew damp. The woman was going to kill him.

"The fuck are you doing?" He demanded hoarsely.

"What you won't do for yourself," she replied between kisses. "Forgiving you."

He laughed bitterly at that. "There is no forgiveness for my sins, darlin'."

"There is," she countered and placed a kiss to the bare flesh raven in the center of his back. "Every Jasper Ravenwood painting has a hidden meaning. I love his work because I understand it. Your tattoo tells me everything I need to know about you. You're not the ruthless bastard you claim to be, Raven."

"You're delusional," he shot back.

"And you're a stubborn ass," she responded as her fingertips delicately traced the ink on his back. "The large raven represents reality, while the image inside it is the dream. The flesh toned bird is a depiction of you flying free, which is an illusion. You're actually trapped inside the larger bird."

His heart actually skipped a beat because she was right. About everything. "It's just a tattoo," he derided.

"Sure it is," Savannah replied mockingly as her fingertips trailed over the outer edges. "These marks are not a body count. Permanently marking your body to remember them is an act of penance. It shows remorse."

Unable to stand another second of the truth, Raven surged up from the bed and turned to glare at her. Grown men had been known to piss themselves when on the receiving end of that look. His sassy little spitfire merely smiled back at him. "Stop trying to make me into something I'm not, Savannah," he warned in a vicious tone.

"You're the one doing that," she countered. "I'm just separating the truth from the lies you tell yourself."

Determined to make her understand, he grasped her shoulders and hauled her up onto her knees. Getting right up in her face he snarled, "I killed my fucking mother, or did you forget that?"

"Nope," she denied and seemed completely unfazed by his threatening attitude. "Kira told me about it a couple of years ago."

Raven stared at her incredulously, his hold on her growing slack. "You knew?" He demanded hoarsely. How the hell had she known about that and still managed to trust him? To let him touch her with his filthy, bloodstained hands.

"I knew you did it to protect your brother," Savannah confirmed. "I knew he'd hated you for it for it until he understood why. I know that he forgave you, but the problem is, you've never forgiven yourself. Until you do, you'll always be trapped inside that big black prison of guilt inked on your back, longing to be free."

Mother fucking hell. She really did get it. Because it was the absolute truth. The raven on his back represented the guilt of his own actions. All the horrible things he'd done to survive. And somehow Savannah had known what he could barely admit to himself. She read him like an open book. "How do you know this?" He choked out rawly.

"I have a degree in clinical psychology," she said patiently. "I'm trained to figure out what makes people tick."

He digested that and said, "Yet you still claim there's good in me."

"Because you have a beautiful soul," she replied and framed his face with her hands. "In spite of being trapped in the club, you created a normal life outside of it with your house, your businesses, the things you surround yourself with. As far as I can tell you keep your two lives completely separate."

"You are a good man at heart, Raven Caulder," Savannah insisted, the golden eyes fixed on his with fierce intensity. As if she were willing him to believe her. To believe in himself. "What you don't understand is that this is the real you. The ruthless club president is a role you play in order to survive."

She broke him. Just fucking broke him. Because Savannah believed in him. She thought he was the man he wanted to be. "You're good, you know that?" He asked with a rasping laugh.

"Yeah, I do," she agreed with a brilliant smile. "And so are you."

"How do you know?" He queried and wanted to believe. God, how he wanted her to be right about him. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm too smart to fall in love with a ruthless man," Savannah admitted and wrapped her arms around his neck. "He might not love me back."

Joy such as he had never known filled him and tears sprang to his eyes. Raven crushed her against himself and held on for dear life. "Fucking love you," he vowed as he buried his face in her neck. "You're mine now, sweet Savannah. Never gonna let you go."

"Damn right you're not. Now shut up and kiss me," his sassy little spitfire commanded.

 

***

 

Raven simply could not fathom how Savannah could have so much faith in him, but he wasn't about to argue with her about it again. She was his now, and he was going to do everything in his power to be the man she believed him to be. Which meant he needed to find a way to sever his ties to the club.

Actually, the club wasn't his problem. It was that fucking neo-nazi group that his old man had gotten mixed up with. The Org, as their people referred to it, was an international syndicate that had tentacles in every aspect of organized crime imaginable. And some he didn't even want to think about.

Their original deal with Bullet had been for the club to handle transportation of drug shipments for them. When he'd taken over, Raven had refused to touch the shit. Oddly enough Midas hadn't pushed the issue and had arranged for the club to transport illegal arms headed out of the country instead.

Those fuckers were the ones he needed to get out from under.

Until then, he'd make damn sure Savannah stayed out of that aspect of his life. No matter what he had to do to accomplish it. Which meant dealing with the immediate threat to her safety. After pampering her with breakfast in bed, he headed over to the clubhouse and found Snake chained to the floor in the cellar as ordered.

The bastard glared venomously up at him from where he sat on the concrete floor. "You stupid fuck," he snarled. "Do you know who I am?"

Raven had no intention of playing petty power games. He was there for one purpose, so he demanded coldly, "Who knows about Savannah being here?"

The other man looked stunned by the question. Then he began to laugh nastily. "That's what this is about?" He asked in a tone dripping with contempt. "You're trying to protect your high-class piece of ass? Trust me, man. She ain't worth it."

His steel-toed boot connected solidly with the fucker's jaw. Snake howled in pain when his head slammed against the cinder block wall. "Who the fuck did you tell about Savannah?" He grated out.

"No one, okay," the other man admitted and spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "I haven't reported her to the agency or the Org yet."

"Good to know," Raven confirmed and pulled the gun from the small of his back. The other man's eyes widen a split second before a bullet pierced the space between them. Tucking the gun back in his waist, he walked up the stairs, told his Veep that he was in charge until further notice and left.

Savannah was safe and his work here was finished.

It was time to get back to reality.

And his woman.