I strip him efficiently, revealing the body I've been wanting to explore since that night in the shelter. Broad shoulders, defined chest, abdomen ridged with muscle earned through years of military service and manual labor. Scars of his own, including the puckered tissue across his forearm where shrapnel ended his flying career.
I trace that scar with my fingers, then lean down to kiss it. "You're beautiful too."
"Not the word most people use."
"Most people are wrong." I wrap my hand around his length, stroke him slowly. He's hard and thick and perfect, and the way his breathing shifts when I touch him makes me feel powerful.
I take him in my mouth, hollowing my cheeks and using my tongue the way I know drives men crazy. He groans, one hand coming up to tangle in my hair. Not controlling, just connecting. Grounding himself while I work him over.
When his breathing gets ragged, when I can tell he's close, he tugs gently at my hair. "Cara, stop. I want to be inside you."
I release him, crawl back up his body until we're face to face. "Then what are you waiting for?"
He pauses, meeting my eyes. "We didn't use protection in the shelter. Should have talked about it then, but circumstances weren't exactly ideal."
"No, they weren't." I trace my fingers along his jaw. "I'm clean. Got tested before everything went sideways with Stormwatch, and there hasn't been anyone since. Hard to have a relationship when you're running for your life. On birth control since my twenties."
"Clean too. Military required regular testing, and I've kept up with it since." His hand comes up to cup my face. "So we're good?"
"We're good."
He rolls us so I'm on my back, settling between my thighs with his weight pressing me into the mattress.
"Look at me."
I meet his eyes, hold his gaze as he positions himself and pushes inside slowly. The stretch is exquisite, the fullness perfect. He slides in until he's buried completely, then stills, giving me time to adjust.
"Okay?"
"More than okay."
He pulls out slowly, then thrusts back in with more force. Sets up a rhythm that's deep and steady, each stroke hitting something inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyes. His hand trembles slightly where it grips my hip, but his left is rock steady on the mattress beside my head.
I hook my legs around his waist, change the angle so he goes even deeper. The pleasure builds again, faster this time because I'm already sensitive from the first orgasm. He reads my body perfectly, adjusting his pace, his angle, the pressure of his pelvis against my clit, until I'm gasping and clawing at his shoulders.
"That's it. Let me feel you come on my cock."
The words send me over the edge again. The orgasm rips through me, clenching around him, and he follows with a groan. His rhythm falters as he spills inside me, hips jerking with the force of his release.
We collapse together, breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. He pulls out carefully, then gathers me against his chest. I settle into his warmth, let myself be held, let myself feel safe for the first time since Stormwatch.
"Stay with me," he murmurs into my hair. "Not just tonight. Stay with me through this fight. Stay with me after it's over."
The request lodges somewhere deep. "That's a lot to promise when we don't know if we'll survive what's coming."
"Then promise me you'll try. That you won't run when things get hard. That you'll let me stand with you instead of facing it alone."
I press my face into his chest, breathe in the scent of him. Soap and wood smoke and man. "I promise I'll try."
"Good enough." He tightens his arms around me. "Get some sleep."
His heartbeat steadies beneath my ear. Outside, wind moves through the spruce. Inside, his arms tighten around me like he's already bracing for what's coming.
I close my eyes and let exhaustion pull me under. The discussions can wait until morning. Right now, wrapped in his arms, I'm just a woman who's finally stopped running. Tomorrow I'll have to be the fugitive again. The investigator. The woman with a target on her back.
But tonight, I have this.
10
