Honeysuckle surrounds me, and fingers flutter over my cheeks. Something warm curls around my waist. When her lips crash into mine, all my nightmares, my fears, my flashbacks fade away, and there’s nothing but our kiss.
Wren. I’m with Wren.
The dank, cold caves dissolve into the monochrome gray of a Russian kitchen. And red curls. Creamy skin. She’s wrapped around me, her hands stroking up and down my back, her tongue tangled in a lazy dance with mine, and my God, she’s so fucking perfect.
I almost lost her. And now…I’ll do anything to keep her right where she is. With me. But…not here. Not on a dusty kitchen floor with the stove blazing. Pulling away, I tuck a thick lock of auburn hair behind her ear and try to memorize the look in her eyes. Desire. Understanding. And…need.
“Hold onto me, sweetheart.”
She’s so light I barely notice her weight as I shift her in my arms, turn off the stove, and carry her into the living room. What am I doing? I don’t…I can’t…
“Ry. Stop thinking and kiss me again.” Wren reaches for my belt, and I cover her hands with mine. Holding my breath, I will myself to wake up. This has to be a dream. There’s no way this beautiful, intelligent, capable woman wants me.
And then she peels off her shirt.
“Wren…” Her skin almost glows in the light from the single lamp in the center of the room. A flush rises from her black silk bra, and my gaze travels lower, to the pants that mold to her ass. Why didn’t I notice how tight they were before?
“Have you lost the capability to understand English?” Her hands stroke down her sides, fingers disappearing under her waistband, and I follow their trail. “I’m throwing myself at you, soldier. Catch me.”
My shirt lands next to hers, and this time when she reaches for my belt, I run my fingers through her hair, trying to convince myself she’s real. My dick strains against the thin, tactical material, and she skims her palm over me.
“So…were you serious earlier?” Her smile has the power to undo me, and copper flecks dance in her pale green eyes as she flicks open the button on my pants. “Are you really going commando?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I crush her to my chest. “I said no panties, sweetheart. Last time I checked, briefs didn’t count.”
“There you are.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, she levers up on her toes so I can claim her mouth. She tastes like a summer day, and I might never get enough of her. “So let me see these briefs, soldier. And what’s underneath.”
Sinking to my knees, I bury my face against her mound, inhaling her sweet scent. “Not until I taste you.”
“I…oh…” The tremble in Wren’s voice urges me on, and I peel the leggings down her hips, finding the scrap of silk between her thighs soaked through. “Please…”
“Please what?” One finger dips under the edge of her panties, and her knees threaten to buckle. “Lie down, baby. And tell me what you like.”
The sleeping bags rustle as she stretches out before me like a fucking banquet, and I cage her with my arms, holding myself over her as I wait for an answer.
“It’s been a long time,” she whispers. “But I’m not going to get what I want unless you’re naked.”
The laugh escaping my lips surprises me, but after I undo my zipper, I freeze. “Wren, the rest of me—”
She cups my arousal, her fingers stroking over the hard length through my briefs. “As far as I can tell, you still have the necessary equipment. Trust me, Ry. I don’t know why you think I care about your scars. I care aboutyou.”
Shedding my pants, I watch her expression as she sees my legs. Parts of me look like a fucking jigsaw puzzle, but if she’s shocked, she doesn’t show it. “One day, you’re going to tell me your whole story. But not tonight. Tonight, we’re going to enjoy one another.”
Enough of this slow dance. I need her like I need my next breath. I strip off my briefs, and her appreciative purr sends me to full mast in a heartbeat.
“I…oh…” she says, her eyes widening as she reaches out to stroke me. I won’t last if she keeps touching me, so I pin her hands over her head.
“Not yet.” I barely manage to avoid ripping her panties as I yank them down her legs, and then her taste floods me.
“Oh God…Ry…yes!”
I have to hold her hips still. Her channel weeps for me, and I swirl my tongue over and around her clit. “Like this, sweetheart?”
“More…”
My cock throbs painfully trapped under my bulk, and I plunge two fingers into her channel as I continue to lave my tongue over her sensitive nub. Her whimpers rise at least an octave as her thighs tremble and she starts to tighten around me.
Scoring my teeth gently over her clit, I twist my fingers to find the little patch of nerves deep inside that will send her over the edge. With a strangled scream, she implodes, and I drink her in, savoring every sound. Every touch. Every second I have with her.
