Wren’s fingers join mine, guiding me where she wants me. A breathy moan spills from her lips. “And what?”
“And...” I can’t tell her the truth. That in a few short days, she’s become my oxygen. So I spin her around and press her against the shower wall. Trapping her hands in one of mine, I pin them over her head, then capture one taut nipple between my teeth.
Her arousal mixes with the hot water, coating the fingers of my free hand as I play with her clit. My balls feel like they’re about to implode, but she comes first. Always.
“Ry—” Her toes curl, her thighs tremble, and her eyelids flutter as I draw her closer to the edge. “Please…”
“Please what, sweetheart? Please make you come?” Peering down at her, I chuckle when all she can do is nod weakly and thrust her hips harder against my hand. “Kiss me, Wren.”
As desperate as I am, she shocks me with the intensity of her mouth on mine. Her teeth capture my bottom lip, tugging sharply as I thrust three fingers deep inside her channel. My thumb presses to her most sensitive nub, and she shatters against me, her legs finally giving out as I hold her through her release, whispering her name.
18
Ryker
I’m still hard as a rock when I wrap a towel around Wren and help her out of the ancient shower. “Are you hungry?”
She frowns, leaning against the sink as I wind another of the threadbare towels around my waist. I didn’t think…this is the first time she’s seen…this much of me…in daylight. I start to turn, but Wren grabs my wrist. “Stop.”
My entire body stills, and I hold my breath as she cups my cheek. “Why is it so hard for you to talk to me?”
“I…can’t.” Despite the urge to look away, I hold her pale green gaze. I owe her that—and so much more.
“Not good enough, soldier.” Her sweet scent invades my nose. “I fell asleep in your arms. And when I woke up, you were gone.” The shadows of my nightmares haunt me, flickering in the corners of the room as she wraps her arms around my waist. “Trust me, Ry. Please.”
With a sigh, I drop my chin to the top of her head. “I don’t sleep much. Four hours is a lot for me.”
“Next time, wake me.” She peers up at me, one brow arched and challenge darkening her eyes. “Or better yet, stay with me. There are a lot of things we can do in a sleeping bag besides sleep.”
Her breath tickles my chest, and if she doesn’t step back soon, I’m going to lift her onto the sink and bury myself deep. “Wren…fuck. You don’t know what you do to me.”
“Oh, I think I have an idea.” She cups my dick through the towel and a hum—almost a purr—rumbles in her throat.
Hauling her into my arms, I carry her back out into the living room, lay her out on the sleeping bag, and fish another condom from my go bag. “Tell me to stop.”
“Why?”
This woman is perfect. Soft in all the right places, but with a steel spine and nerves harder than diamonds. She palms my hard length, running her finger over the head as she waits for me to tear the packet open. Damn. No one’s ever…touched me the way she does. Like I’m not broken. Not a monster. Not…me.
Hooking her legs around my hips, she moans as I slide home. “Don’t close your eyes, Ryker,” she whispers. “Look at me when you come.”
I can’t. Can’t let her see how much I need her. But…when she runs her hands over the scars on my back, pure acceptance curving her lips into a smile, I start to rock against her. “You’re…so…tight and hot…little bird. Like you were…made…just for me.”
“Harder.” Flecks of gold brighten in her green eyes, and she swivels her hips in time with my thrusts. Balanced on my elbows, caging her small body, I let her see everything. All of me. All my pain. All my nightmares. All the raw need flowing through me every time I touch her. She doesn’t understand—not caught in the heat of our coupling. But I do. And when my balls tighten, the pleasure shooting through me like a flaming sword, I let go as I shout her name.
* * *
I closemy eyes and let my hands drift over my body. Burner phones—one in each of my jacket’s side pockets. Wallet with fake ID and enough rupees to look natural. Moving slowly and methodically, I pat my lower back. A hidden pouch rests just under the waistband of my jeans with a couple thousand US dollars in case I need to pay someone off. A spare magazine in my hip pocket. Continuing my mental inventory, I verify the knife strapped to my ankle, the extra ear bud stowed in a slit in my sock, and the tracker tucked…where only Wren should find it.
When I finish and look back at her, she’s fiddling with her bracelet, one of the sleeping bags wrapped around her.
“Promise me you’ll stay inside,” I say as I hoist my pack. “Get dressed. Make sure you have your tracker. But don’t leave this house—”
“Unless you send me the 911 code or the perimeter alarms go off.” Wren rises and pulls on a pair of black panties, and the contrast against her pale skin makes me ache for her again.
Turning around, I slide my pistol into its holster. “I’ll be back before dark. You find any sign of Elena or Semyon, raise me on comms. You remember where the backup car is?”
Wren steps in front of me, thankfully mostly dressed. “Ryker,” she says with an edge to her voice, “it’s two blocks away. I have the key. I’ll befine.”
