She picks up speed. Really riding me now, lifting up until just the tip of my cock is inside her before slamming back down. The wet slide of her taking me over and over. I'm mesmerized—watching where we're joined, watching my cock disappear inside her, watching her arousal coat my shaft.
"God, Stephan," she gasps. "You're so deep like this."
"You look perfect." My hands grip her hips, helping guide her movements. "Fucking perfect taking my cock."
Her hand slides between her legs and she starts circling her clit while she rides me. The sight nearly makes me come on the spot—this beautiful woman using my body for her pleasure, chasing her orgasm with abandon. Her head falls back, her spine arches, and her breasts thrust forward.
I lean forward despite the pain in my ribs and take a nipple in my mouth. Suck hard while she bounces on my cock. She cries out, her movements becoming erratic.
"Close," she gasps. "So close."
I release her nipple with a wet pop. "Let me see you. Want to watch you come on my cock."
Her eyes meet mine and she rides me harder. Faster. Her fingers work her clit frantically and I can feel her tightening around me. Getting closer. Right there.
It’s enough for me to forget this hell we’re living in.
"Come for me," I growl.
She does. Her whole body goes rigid, her inner walls clamping down on my cock like a vice, and she throws her head back witha cry. The sight of her, lost in pleasure, using me to chase that high, is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I can't hold back. I thrust up hard, ignoring the sharp pain in my ribs, and come with a groan. Pulse after pulse of release while she trembles through the aftershocks.
She collapses forward carefully, mindful of my injuries, and I wrap my arms around her. We're both shaking, breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. My cock is still inside her and I can feel the aftermath—the flutter of her muscles, the warmth of my cum.
"We're alive," she whispers against my neck.
"Yeah." I hold her tighter. "We are."
The adrenaline is finally fading, replaced by exhaustion and the steady throb of pain from my ribs. But I don't care. All I can focus on is the woman in my arms and the way she fits against me like she was made for this. For me.
After a long moment, when our breathing has slowed, she asks quietly: "Do you believe in second chances?"
"I didn't used to."
"And now?"
I pull her closer, press my lips to her hair. "Now I think I might."
seven
Iris
Wereachthesettlementbefore sundown.
The guards recognize me, throw open the gates before we've even stopped moving. Everyone knew I left on a desperate mission, and everyone assumed I wouldn't come back.
But I'm here.We're here.And we have the medicine.
Allie is barely conscious when I burst through the medical room door, her fever so high she doesn't recognize me at first. Her skin is gray, her breathing labored, and for one terrible moment I think we're too late. I think I fought through everything—the zombies, the Wolves, the impossible miles—and it doesn't matter because she's already gone.
Then her eyes flutter open. "Mama?"
"I'm here, baby. I'm here."
I inject the ceftriaxone into her IV line, hands steady despite the terror screaming through every nerve. Medical training takes over, the familiar motions calming me when nothing else could.Dr. Nowak helps me set up the drip, his face cycling through shock to hope to cautious optimism.
"You actually did it." His voice cracks. "Fort Nelson."
