"Let go," I whisper, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
His rhythm changes instantly, harder and deeper, the careful control shattering. One hand slides between us, his fingers finding my clit, and the dual sensation of him inside me and the pressure of his touch sends lightning through my nerves. My back arches off the bed, thighs tightening around his hips as the tension coils tighter and tighter.
"That's it," he growls against my throat, his voice raw. "Come for me, Andi."
The orgasm hits like a shockwave, muscles clenching around him as pleasure pulses through my entire body. I cry out, nails raking down his back, lost in sensation so intense it whites out everything else. He thrusts through my climax, prolonging it, drawing out every last tremor until I'm gasping beneath him.
His control breaks completely. His movements turn urgent, desperate, driving into me with single-minded intensity. I feel him swell inside me, his whole body going rigid, and then he groans deep in his chest as he comes, heat flooding inside me as his hips jerk with each pulse. His weight collapses onto me, both of us shaking, breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other.
We lie there afterward, tangled together, breathing hard. His weight pressing me into the mattress feels grounding, real. After a moment, he shifts, rolling to his side and pulling me with him so we're facing each other. His fingers trace idle patterns on my hip.
"You okay?" Vulnerability underlies the question.
"More than okay." I press a kiss to his jaw. "We should have done that long before now."
"Maybe." His palm continues its idle exploration of my hip, my waist. "But I needed to know you were safe."
"And now?" I tilt my head to look at him.
"Now everything's different." He pulls me closer, and I rest my head against his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat slow back to normal.
"I know." My eyes are already getting heavy, the combination of exhaustion and satisfaction pulling me under. "I'm okay with that."
Duke shifts on the floor, a soft whine escaping him. Devlin reaches down and pats the bed. "Come on, boy. Up."
Duke doesn't need to be told twice. He jumps up, circling once before settling at our feet with a contented sigh. Pack. All of us together.
I drift off at some point, because the next thing I'm aware of is sunlight filtering through the curtains and Devlin's phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. He reaches for it, his other arm still wrapped around me, but the moment he looks at the screen, every muscle in his body goes rigid.
"What?" I'm suddenly fully awake.
He shows me without a word.
A photo fills the screen. Us. On the back porch last night, sitting close on the steps, the moment before our first kiss. The angle and zoom suggest someone was positioned across the street or in the distance with a telephoto lens, far enough that Duke wouldn't have alerted but close enough to capture our faces clearly in the light from inside.
Below the photo: "She's already yours. That makes this even better."
Duke is on his feet instantly, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Devlin's already moving, pulling on clothes with military efficiency. "Stay here. Lock the door behind me."
"Devlin—" But he's already gone, Duke at his heels, and I'm left sitting in his bed staring at that photo on my own phone where he forwarded it.
Someone was watching. Last night while we were on the porch. Far enough away that Duke didn't sense them, but watching us through a camera lens. Seeing us kiss. Documenting us.
And whoever they are, they're not done.
8
DEVLIN
Duke and I move through my quarters with tactical precision, my sidearm holstered, his training kicking in the moment I give him the alert command.
Someone photographed Andi and me on my back porch last night. Watched us. Documented the moment before our first kiss. And they did it without Duke alerting, which means they were positioned far enough away to avoid detection but close enough to get clear images. Professional equipment, planning, and patience. This isn't harassment or escalating anger. This is calculated stalking by someone who knows what they're doing.
I clear the interior of my quarters first, Duke's nose working corners and shadows. Nothing. We move to the back porch where Andi and I sat last night, and I scan the tree line beyond my small yard. Base housing backs up to a wooded area that provides natural separation between residential and training facilities. The setup is good for privacy but not so good for security.
Duke's already moving toward the tree line, his body language shifting to alert. I follow him, my hand on my weapon, eyes scanning for movement or threat. He stops at a large oakabout halfway between my porch and the main tree line, his attention fixed on something in the branches.
I look up and there it is. A small camera, weatherproof housing, positioned to have clear line of sight to my back porch. Professional grade, not some cheap surveillance equipment. I pull out my phone and call base security, watching the camera while Duke maintains his position below the tree.
