The first tear fell. Followed by a guttural sob.
“Let it all out.” He lifted her into his strong arms and carried her limp body back to bed. Cradling her, he held her close. Kissed her temple. Whispered kind, loving words in her ear.
And she cried until there was nothing left but exhaustion.
11
THE REFUGE, NEW MEXICO
Lark blinked and opened her eyes. The early morning sun peeked in through the crack in the shades. The rays stretched into the cabin like long fingers massaging her skin. She inhaled sharply. The scent of fresh pine and raw masculine energy filled her nostrils. A small piece of her still wanted to resent Kawan and push him away. He brought out pieces of her she’d worked hard to forget.
She’d buried that child—and everything she represented—into a dark corner to protect her from the harshness and cruelties of life.
Kawan snuggled in close. His legs tucked in behind hers. His arm draped over her waist. His breath tickled her shoulder. He reminded her that she was indeed a woman who bled both real and emotional blood. It was the latter that scared her. Vulnerability wasn’t something she wore well.
Warmth radiated from his body, wrapping itself around her like a comforting blanket. It was a sensation she’d fought for as long as she’d known Kawan. Being cared for. Having someone love her. That wasn’t in her wheelhouse. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought she desired. Much less needed.Since the death of her parents, she wasn’t even sure she’d even experienced it.
She closed her eyes, sinking further into his embrace. Sinking further into the comfort he offered.
His fingers, rough like a sculptor's yet gentle in their touch, traced a path from her waist up to the swell of her breast. Lark gasped softly, a shower of delicious goosebumps prickling across her skin. The rough pad of his thumb brushed against her nipple, teasing her into a heightened state of arousal.
“Good morning,” he murmured as he lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it across the room before quickly rolling her shorts over her hips.
“Are you in a hurry for something this morning?”
“Maybe,” he said softly.
She pressed further into him, savoring the hardness of his chest against the softness of her back. Silent affirmation that she reciprocated his greeting. The steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat, pulsed in time with hers.
His hand lazily roamed across her bare midriff, fingertips tracing the dimples in her hipbones, before coasting higher to skim her side. It was maddeningly gentle, a careful exploration that elicited a sigh from her that was as much pleasure as it was contentment.
"Kawan," she managed to whisper, her voice barely a flutter in the quiet room. Saying his name felt like tasting forbidden fruit, sweet and temptingly dangerous. She reached behind, threading her fingers through his shaggy mane, tugging him closer. She drowned in his scent, heady with notes of sandalwood and an undercurrent of musk that screamed “male”.
His lips found the nape of her neck, his kisses feather-light yet carrying the weight of unspoken promises. Each caress stripped away another layer of her reservations.
She turned in his arms, meeting his hazel eyes, finding a mirrored desire aflame in them. Her hand cupped his stubbled cheek, every millimeter of contact adding another spark to the fire between them. “I want you.” Their lips met in a kiss that was intoxicatingly slow and blisteringly hot.
Kawan's touch was fire, and she was forest. As the morning sun spilled into the room, she finally understood what it meant to burn.
“I want you, too.” Barely a breath passed between them before he claimed her mouth once more. His lips were firm yet soft, masterfully conquering yet tenderly seducing, drawing a throaty murmur from her. His tongue coaxed her to respond, their dance slow and sensual, an intimate exploration of taste and texture.
Warm fingers traced lightly over her rib cage, moving upward with a delicious slowness that set her heart pounding. She gasped as his hand cupped her breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak, setting off sparklers of ecstasy that rippled through every nerve ending.
Their sexual exploits in the past had always been out of control. Wild. Hot. Raw. They’d been fast. Furious. Flesh on flesh. An animalistic desire to devour.
This could only be described as slow, deliberate, and meant to drive her insane.
It felt like… No. She couldn't let herself finish that thought. What she knew it meant.
He pressed closer, the hard lines of his body molding seamlessly to her curves. Muscles shifted beneath her fingertips as she explored the expanse of his back, her hands sliding down to cup the firmness of his ass.
His lips never left her skin, lingering on the sensitive spot just below her earlobe, his breath brought shivers that made her toes curl. The little hitch encouraged him to continue his trail ofkisses, marking his path down her neck, over her collarbone, and lower still.
His mouth found one hardened peak, his tongue performing a tantalizing dance. She stared down at him, watching him worship her breasts—one, then the other—with slow, deliberate attention.
With her nipple firmly in his mouth, he caught her gaze. His hand slid across her stomach. She lifted her hips as he glided his fingers across her clit, before diving deep inside.
Dropping her head back, she bit her lip and groaned.
