She collapses on my chest and buries her head in my neck, kissing and nipping at me as her hips continue to roll and stutter. I grab her ass and help her grind down on top of me until she spasms around me again. I feel her orgasm spread throughout her body as I slide one hand up her back so I can tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her lips up to meet mine.
Rya moans into the kiss, driving me absolutely crazy with the way her tongue slides against mine. I flip us over and pound that pink little pussy with everything I have, swallowing her cries of ecstasy.
Leaning back, I throw one leg over my shoulder, and then the other, grabbing onto the headboard as I slam in and out of her. “Mine, fuckingmine,” I growl, looking into her eyes, branding her with my stare, my cock, and soon, my baby in her belly. “Fuck!” I roar, feeling my dick swell up inside of her.
"Miller, shit, oh shit, I'm…" Rya whimpers and claws at the sheets, thrashing her head back and forth.
“Come for me, Rya. Come for me like a good girl.”
Rya screams and lets go of every goddamn thing, snapping her pussy around me again and again as she's hit with never-ending waves of bliss. She's shivering and sweating and moaning uncontrollably.
With one last thrust, I burst inside of her, coming in long, powerful ropes, emptying every last drop into her fertile, youngpussy. Goddamn, the vision of her round with our kid, her breasts full and sensitive… I release another round of hot cum deep inside of her before rolling off to the side and dragging her limp, sated body on top of mine.
Rya snuggles up next to me and kisses my chest, my neck, my jaw, and finally my lips. “What a way to wake up,” she whispers before kissing me deeply.
When we finally break apart, I pull the blankets over us once again and wrap her up in my arms. “I was thinking about making it a morning tradition,” I tease as I rub my nose up and down hers. I see her long lashes flutter and then she closes her eyes, tucking her head under my chin.
In the quiet of the morning, surrounded by the scent of cedar and Rya, I feel the jagged edges of my past start to smooth over. We lie there for a long time, the silence heavy but comfortable.
Rya eventually breaks it, her voice small and reflective. “My mom… she was always moving,” she whispers, staring at the wall. “She was like a butterfly, never staying in one place, never really looking back. I spent my whole life being the adult, making sure we always had a place to land and money in the bank. When my mom decided I was old enough to survive on my own, she left for good.” Rya shrugs and takes a deep breath. “I built my walls, my digital fortress, because it was easier to be alone than to be left behind.”
I squeeze her shoulder, my heart aching for the girl who had to fend for herself. Pulling her closer, I tuck her head firmly beneath my chin. Rya doesn’t fight it; she practically melts into me, her small, curvy frame curling into the hollow of my chest as if she’s trying to disappear into my skin.
Her breathing, which had been ragged and spiked with the remnants of her painful past, begins to even out, matching the steady, grounding rhythm of my own heart. I wrap my arms around her, a protective cage of muscle and bone, and feel theway she soaks up my strength, leaning into me with a desperate, unspoken need to be held tight.
It’s an intimacy that hits me harder than any physical connection ever could. We’ve shared sweat and skin, but this—this quiet, trembling surrender—is a different kind of claiming. She’s not just giving me her body; she’s handing over the frayed edges of her past, the fears she’s kept under lock and key, and the heavy, secret weight of her loneliness.
To hold that for her, to be the one place where she can finally stop keeping herself together, is both a terrifying responsibility and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known. I realize now that this is what I was actually starving for during all those years in the dark. It wasn’t just physical release; it was this raw, exposed vulnerability. I tighten my grip, silently promising her that as long as I have breath in my lungs, she will never have to be alone with her shadows again.
“I get it,” I say, my voice raspy. “The military gave me a purpose, but it also stripped everything else away. When I came home, I was a ghost.” I’ve never told anyone that before. Hell, I’ve never really articulated that feeling to myself. “I’ve walked through this life for years feeling like a machine without a mission. I didn’t realize how bone-deep my loneliness was until I saw you through my screen.”
Rya stiffens suddenly, her eyes darting to the laptop on the nightstand. “Wait… yousawme? Through the camera?” Panic flickers in her gaze, her breathing turning shallow. “You werewatchingme?”
I sit up, bringing her with me. “It was the mission, Rya. We found the list, and your name was on it. I had to verify the target, to make sure you were safe. But the second your image hit my screen, the mission changed. It wasn’t about protocol anymore. It was aboutyou. I fell for you before I even knew the sound of your voice.”
She looks at me, the panic slowly subsiding as she searches my face for the truth. She sees it there; the obsession, the devotion, the raw honesty. “You fell for me? As in…?”
“As in I’m so obsessed with you, it scares me sometimes,” I tell her, never breaking eye contact. “You’re everything, Rya. Brilliant, radiant, adorable, sexy as hell, brave, and a nerd.”
“Nerd?” she repeats, lifting a playful eyebrow.
“Not as big of a nerd as me, but we’ll work up to that.” There’s an honest to God grin on my lips, and I swear I somehow feel a twinkle in my eye.
“This is all… fast,” she says, a small, shaky smile touching her lips. “It’s crazy fast, Miller.”
“I don’t care about the clock,” I growl, cupping her face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She leans into my palm, her eyes shimmering. "I… I love you, Miller," she whispers. “I’m sorry if that’s too much…” The words are soft, but they hit me harder than any bullet ever has.
Her confession hangs in the air, thick and terrifyingly real, freezing the very marrow in my bones. I’m still cupping her face, my thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles over her cheekbones, and for a heartbeat, the rest of the world—the threat outside, the Syndicate, the mission—simply ceases to exist. There is only the shimmer in her eyes and the truth she just laid at my feet.
"Don't ever apologize for that," I growl, but there’s no malice in it, only a raw, desperate reverence. I need to be sure she knows what she’s doing. I pull her flush against me, my arms winding around her waist until we’re locked together, a single, solid unit. "I love you, too, Rya. So fucking much. That word? Love? That’s the only thing that makes any of this make sense. You think I’m protecting you? Rya, you’re the only reason I’m still standing. You’re my North Star, my sanity, everything."
I tilt my head and kiss her, pouring every ounce of the obsession I’ve been fighting to contain into the movement. It’sslow, deep, and utterly possessive, a silent, binding vow etched into her skin. I guide us to lie down, and I lean over her, my body a heavy, solid weight of comfort shielding her from the cold reality of the night outside.
She snuggles into me, inhaling my scent as she clutches me like a lifeline. The frantic energy that has been clawing at her throat all day begins to dissolve under the steady, rhythmic thrum of my heartbeat against her ear.
"Stay," she murmurs, her voice thick with the weight of exhaustion.
