“So, if I pack my shit and leave, what will you do?” she taunts, lashes fluttering in pleasure. Her pouty simper tells me that there’sonly a fraction of validity to her musing. “Maybe I’m safer with my brothers.”
Goading me. I don’t know why that turns me the hell on, but it does.
My beautiful brat.
Adding a third finger, I chuckle against her mouth. “I won’t allow it. This is the part of me I didn’t want you to see. But if you force my hand … you’re not going anywhere without me, Rena. I’d run with you, so we could avoid it, but that would only get everyone we love killed.”
“Killed?” she croaks, hazels wide and alarmed. “By KORT?”
“Yes.” Sweating through this conversation, I haul her toward me so her inner thighs are nestled against my hips, my cock raging inside my jeans. “There are rules. We agreed to bylaws, and there’s no going back. Anything that puts the organization at risk is punishable by death.”
Her breath hitches, even as she rocks into my hand. “And you killing those guys, does it put the organization at risk?”
Unable to concentrate on anything other than the tragedy of her still clothed, I pull the string on her bathing suit top and watch those glorious tits break free.
“Fuck, baby.” My mouth descends on one, my tongue whirling the cool metal piercing and her peaked nipple as my fingers keep tangoing insider her.
She whimpers, holding my head against her and arching her back. It’s possible she’s forgotten she asked a question about the risk to KORT, lost in this moment between us while God only knows what ensues beyond the door.
I answer anyway between sucking and lapping because she deserves to understand. “Not exactly. It’s messy. Killing those guys doesn’t hurt KORT, but it puts us in the line of fire without a good fucking shield.”
She reaches for my dick, cupping it with a hushed groan when she discovers how hard and ready I am for her, but still pants outmore questions. “And everyone in our families could be targets? Does this marriage keep my brothers safe?”
For this answer, I latch my eyes to hers. I won’t promise her things I can’t deliver. “No.”
Her body stills, spine rigid as she soaks that in. “So, their lives could be at risk because of this? No wonder they’re pissed.”
“Yeah. I’d hate me too.” I abandon her breasts while still massaging her clit with my thumb because I need to stare into her eyes when I explain this. It’s vital to her acceptance. “But your brothers aren’t worried about themselves. They’re worried about you. It’s a perilous process to become part of KORT. What I’ve done is unforgivable.”
Divulging the fact that not everyone survives the loyalty test doesn’t seem beneficial. It’s not an outcome I’m willing to entertain, so there’s no sense. All it would do is terrify her more than necessary.
I capture a dripping tear from her, one that makes me think she’d leave me if she could. I guess I’ll have to live with that, but I won’t squash her fear completely. The only thing worse than dragging her through the flames is pretending I’m offering her the rain she longs for.
Her jaw locks, and she glances away with a hard swallow. “You know that old saying about setting a bird free, and if it’s meant to be, it will come back to you?”
So, she’d definitely leave me if she could. After everything I’ve endured, that spears me more than expected.Not-worthy, chants in the recesses of my mind.
“That doesn’t apply here.” I remove my fingers from her sopping cunt, gliding the glistening tips over my tongue with an involuntary growl. “Did you really believe that after I spent a lifetime in Hell, you could tease me with a taste of Heaven and I’d ever let you go?”
With that question still loitering in the space between us, I smear my arousal-coated fingers across her lips before pushing them into her mouth. “Fucking heaven, Rena.”
She tilts her head, all the previous irritation melting into aboiling puddle of lust before my eyes. “Heaven,” she whispers, sampling herself with a moan. “I think maybe you should shut up and fuck me, Mr. Reynolds.”
Jesus, she’s fucking perfect.
Her spontaneous whims are growing on me.More than growing on me. It’s safe to say that I am madly in love with her. No idea when that happened. Maybe I have been to some degree for years. Either way, there’s no denying it.
“Whatever my naughty wife wants.” In the spell of a single heartbeat, I lift her, shuck her shorts and bikini bottoms off, place my gun on the dryer, wrench down my zipper, and unsheathe my throbbing cock.
She whimpers at the sight, shimmying her weight to position herself closer.
Swiping the dripping head of my dick over her with a taunting friction—clit to entrance—I pluck my phone out of my back pocket and pull up a song that will express far more than I could with words. After setting it on the dryer, I thrust inside her as the opening chords of “Me and Bobby McGee” trill from the speaker.
She gasps through the stretch as her face brightens with both rapture and awareness. “You understood my Joplin reference in the hallway that day?”
The washer has her quivering against me, enhancing every touch I offer so that I know she’ll come undone quickly. I want to savor this though, so I maintain an agonizingly slow pace.
“Not that day.” Anchoring her legs around my hips—where my jeans are hanging on for dear life—I angle her so that I can burrow a little deeper with every pump while I finish answering. “When you were missing, I replayed every moment we’d ever spent together. Especially those last ones at La Lune Noire. I told you that I hadn’t eaten or slept since I had gotten the call that you’d gone missing.Nothing left to loseclicked. There was nothing that could’ve kept me from finding you.”
